Chapter Nineteen

 

DAVIS

 

I shouldn't be doing this. I can't let him do any of this. His hands explore across my body, though, and whatever resistance I might have had, even at this late stage, fades. I can't stop myself, never mind stopping him.

He teases a nipple to a hardness that I can't begin to imagine, a hardness and sensitivity that's almost painful. Then he pulls it between his teeth, pulling my chest and spine along with it until I can't do anything but act as his puppet.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. He forces it out of me, and when I try to take another breath in, the air won't come fast enough.

His fingers explore the place between my legs, rubbing and teasing and giving me everything I wanted, everything I needed. Feelings I didn't know I needed before he gave them to me.

It's not my first time, but I wouldn't have known that from the way that my breath hitches in my chest, the way that he steals the air right out of my throat. The way that each and every touch lights a fire inside me in ways I've never felt before.

I can't stand any more. I have to let myself lean back against the bar, have to find some way to hold myself up and hold myself back. The pleasure has already made my knees too weak to stand anything more than the task of keeping me connected to the floor.

Ryan stops his explorations, pulls his hand away. I can't stop myself feeling a little bit disappointed. The approach of something I couldn't refuse or deny had been teasing on the edge of my mind like a destination that I hadn't even realized existed until I knew that it was the only place I wanted to go.

Then I felt him pulling at the button on my trousers, felt it coming apart. The fabric dropped to the ground at my ankles, weighed down by my badge and my gun and my belt.

I look at him standing there, still fully clothed, reaching down for the last piece of fabric protecting me from the chilly night air. That's certainly not fair.

I stand up on my wobbly legs and reach down to pull at the hem of his shirt. I'm going to even the odds if it kills me.

Ryan's hand comes up and pushes me back against the bar. It doesn't take much of a push for me to lose my balance and fall back, not that I've got a long way to fall.

He pulls the thin cotton fabric of my underwear away from me, down my legs. His lips start pressing kisses into my skin halfway down my thigh. He follows just a little way behind the fabric as he pulls it off and away.

Then he traces his kisses back up my leg, teasing me with the thought of what's going to come. Eventually, I know, his kisses will find their way up to the place where I need them to be.

I can feel each time his lips move closer. Every eighth of an inch feels like it's almost there now, any second he'll press his lips into the folds of my womanhood and I'll—

His lips don't go near my womanhood. Right as I start to think I'll go crazy, he moves to the other leg, pressing his soft lips into my thigh, inside my knee, then tracing his way back up.

The cycle begins again, the building up. I don't know how long I can keep going like this. He's giving me too much, asking me to feel too much. I can't do it, not any more. Not if it's going to be like this.

And then, right when I think I'm about to lose it, he stops teasing me altogether. His mouth presses into me, his lips pulling my button into his mouth. He presses his tongue against my womanhood and gives it a swirl.

My entire body convulses with the pleasure, threatening to slip me further down the bar. I barely manage to hold myself up, but he's not done yet.

Where his tongue had swirled a moment ago, he replaces it with a finger, using his tongue to taste me in other places, in other ways.

His hands move lower, exploring the depths of my folds, invading my womanhood and probing. His tongue returns to exploring the hard, pleasurable nub at the top of my slit. Just as his tongue settles into a rhythm, the constant shocks of pleasure shooting through me like lightning bolts, his fingers find the right spot.

I let out a moan loud enough that anyone outside might have heard, and he seems to get the message. His hands move around in that spot, finding places to press that I didn't even realize existed. Finding new pleasures I hadn't known I could ever want until Ryan was already giving them to me.

My body goes tense, every fiber in me bunching up together at once, and then the world around me goes dark. I can't open my eyes any more, the pleasure is too much. My body's on autopilot, now.

I can feel my hands digging into Ryan's hair, pressing him into me more, as if there is more pleasure to be found if he just gets closer to the source. His tongue continues to explore, continues to shoot waves of pleasure through me. Pleasure my body has no more place to hold.

His fingers have found the right place, now, as well, and he's only moving enough to send me spiraling further out of control. My hands tighten in his hair, pulling and pushing.

My body knows it wants something, but it doesn't know how to get it. I want more. I try to get my hands to act the way I want them to, try to get my eyes to open. I get a brief glimpse of the bar around me, my eyes unable to focus, before my eyelids, too heavy to keep open, press shut again.

My hips, however, have none of the problems of my hands. They know exactly what they want, pressing in more, taking every ounce of pleasure I can get for as long as I can get it.

I can feel Ryan smile appreciatively into my pussy, lips and tongue and teeth all attacking my clit, drawing out pleasure long after I lost control of whatever the difference is between pleasure and pain.

I don't know how much longer I can keep going, and I certainly don't know how much longer I can stay standing. Still, somehow my weak knees manage to keep me upright, even if it's only barely. Even if it's only to keep the pleasure coming for another second longer.

Ryan seems to sense my distress and speeds up his ministrations. Orgasm after orgasm crashes into me, until I can't tell when one ends and the next begins. Perhaps they don't end, just building up, one orgasm on top of another in layers.

I can't move my body any more, except for my hips, which continue to move on their own, grinding in against Ryan's face. The man continues to lick and probe, supplying me with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of pleasure.

With a shout, my body finally gives out completely, leaving me barely able to hang on to the bar. My hips fall away, and with it, the magic stops for a moment. I force my eyes open. Ryan's arms are wrapped around me, and he's pulling me back to my unsteady feet.

For a moment I think I'm going to have time to catch my breath. Then he turns me around and leans me forward, pressing my weight onto the seat of a raised booth. My feet can almost reach the floor. I could move myself away, if I had to, but as I feel him line his hardness up with my waiting pussy, I don't think I want to.