Page 89 of Obey
“Your mind is racing so fast I can almost see tiny legs in your eyeballs.”
He sure is romantic, isn’t he?
“Can you kiss me already please? I’m in my head, and I don’t know how to get out of my head. I’ve got questions and thoughts on repeat, and I want to put it all down on a shelf somewhere and kiss my boyfriend.”
His warm hands slip under the hem of my shirt, curling around my waist. His hands are big, possessive, strong. Safe. He’s holding my weight so I can relax into his grip a little. When his nose brushes mine, lightning dances down my spine.
When his lower lip presses against mine, I sigh into his mouth. When his tongue teases mine, pulling me from my mental prison, I loop my arms around his neck and pull him to me.
It’s been such a short space of time since we met, but I want to explore things with this man. There’s potential here for a deep and meaningful relationship.
His hands tighten, like he’s reminding me he’s got me without using words. How long do we kiss? I have no idea, I get lost in the nipping and biting, the lip-tugging, and tongues dancing. When he stands up, loops my legs around his body, and picks up his bag of tricks, I hold him tighter. He doesn’t miss a beat as he walks, carrying me to my bedroom.
Except he has no idea where that is, so he toes open doors one at a time until he finds it. He’s kissing my neck, nibbling on my jaw, everywhere his body touches mine ignites, like my nerve endings have been supercharged.
He places me tenderly in the middle of the bed before climbing on top of me, caging me into the mattress with his body. I don’t want him covered, I need him naked, so my fingers scramble to get him undressed.
His shirt gets caught over his head, and he snorts, grumbling into the fabric curled around his face. I can’t help but throw my head back and laugh.
When he’s shirtless, I’m drooling. The planes and ridges of his chest are like something from a storybook. His skin is flawless, the lines of his tattoos sharp and clear, calling to me to trace my fingers over. They wind their way back around his shoulder and up his neck, and his muscles loosen as he pulls his pants off, leaving him in briefs and me fully clothed.
It’s reassuring, comforting even, he’s almost entirely naked, and I’m not. But that means the sensations are muted when he touches me the fabric barrier between us absorbs it. Just like when I pulled his shirt off, I get tangled in my own, except, instead of helping me out of it, Jagger dots a line of kisses down my collar bone. I don’t know how I got tangled, but I can’t get myself unstuck. I’m sort of cuffed by the sleeves of my shirt.
His trail continues along the edge of my bra, down my stomach, and within seconds he has my pants and panties off and my legs over his shoulders.
He blows on my crotch. “Are you too nervous to be wet for me, baby girl?”
That wobbly feeling hits my chest every time he calls me baby girl, it takes an extra beat to steady myself to answer. “No Daddy. I’m wet for you.”
He spreads my lips with delicate fingertips. “So perfectly pink and glistening for me. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”
I bite down on the shirt that’s covering my face, strangling a moan.
“And you have a praise kink a mile wide. My beautiful good girl.”
He slides his thumb over my clit, making me shiver and roll my hips. “Just relax, Half-Pint. It’s going to take a while.”
I finally get my shirt off, and look down. He’s staring up at me with adoration and awe in his eyes. I’m expecting his tongue, but his thumb hits my clit, gliding across my slick skin, making my breath catch in the back of my throat.
When two of his fingers enter me, I can’t help purring. He kisses his way back up my body, working his two fingers in and out of me, pressing my g-spot, making me wiggle and squirm as he finds my mouth again.
“We’re going to work with my hand for a bit, okay? See if we can’t get you to relax for me.”
I’m already molten, putty in his hand, and when his fingers press that intimate spot it makes me shiver and pant. He adds a third finger and my body tenses, my lungs locking. “Shhhhh.” He murmurs against my skin as his soft lips glide across my chest leaving a damp trail. “Just relax and let it happen, baby girl.”
His voice chips at the anxiety gnawing my brain. He’s in control, he knows what he’s doing, and he’s not going to intentionally hurt me. When his tongue hits my nipple, I’m grabbing the sheets at my side, clutching them in a tight grip. “Please, Jagger, more, please.”
I’m not sure what I meant, but him sliding a fourth finger inside me wasn’t it. When he does, a gush of liquid comes out of me. My embarrassed groan isn’t lost on him, and he pumps a little harder, making me squelch all over again.
His patience is unending. His rhythm is slow, in and out, his fingers gliding through my arousal into my body and back out again, my muscles following his lead; my body is an instrument, and he’s playing me with ease and skill.
He’s licked and sucked my nipples so much, my breasts are hyper tingly.
“How’s this pussy of mine, baby girl? Doing okay?”
“Mhmm.”
“Use your words please, Talia.” His hand pauses, and I can’t let him stop. I can’t. I need him to keep going. There’s a faint tingle at the base of my spine, and I’m pretty sure it’s an orgasm brewing.