Chapter 170. The Ride Back Home III
Maisie
I climbed. That was the only word for it.
One knee on either side of his head, my hands finding purchase on the seatback, the cool kiss of the air conditioning against the bare skin of my inner thighs. "You’re insane," I breathed.
"I’m efficient. There’s a difference."
The car took another gentle curve, and lurch pressed me an inch forward, an inch closer to Jericho’s waiting mouth. Heat and anticipation entwined. The electric knowledge of what was about to happen and where it was about to happen.
I felt like a sinner who needed to repent.
Maybe after this.
Definitely after this.
"May." Jericho’s voice had dropped into a register that singed my skin. "Stop thinking."
I lowered myself.
The first contact was barely any contact at all. Jericho’s warm breath moved across me and I inhaled sharply. Then his tongue found my folds lightly, tracing the shape of me without entering, mapping territory he already knew by heart.
"Jericho."
"Mm?"
The vibration of that single syllable traveled through me like a current. My fingers tightened on the seatback.
He took his time. His tongue painted slow strokes along my seam, spreading the wetness, finding the places where I was most sensitive, still sore. When he brushed my clit, it was an accident but it sent a spike of sensation through the ache and straight up my spine.
My hips jerked. His hands caught me, one on each thigh, steadying.
"Easy," he murmured against me. "I’ve got you."
The car rolled to a stop at a light and beyond the tinted glass were cars, but my world had shrunk to this backseat and the man underneath me.
Jericho’s tongue found my entrance and circled, and my hips tilted forward, giving him better access, and I received a low groan of approval in response.
His tongue pressed inside. Shallow at first, testing. My breath stuttered. I felt the brief soreness, but--
"Oh," I thought out loud at the warm, tingling sensation that felt strangely like healing. But I barely had a second to dwell on that before Jericho’s gentle probing changed. He moved inside me with short, soft strokes that made my thighs begin to tremble.
"I need—" I didn’t finish. Couldn’t.
Jericho pulled back. His lips found my clit instead. He sucked gently, once, twice, and then released me with a soft sound that was obscene and tender at the same time.
"What do you need?"
"More."
"More what?"
"I don’t know. Just... more."
His tongue returned to my entrance and this time he went deeper, curling upward on the withdrawal in a way that made me see stars. The rhythm he established was merciless, never fast enough to let me climb, never slow enough to let me come down. He was building something inside me, brick by brick, and every brick was placed with the exact such care, my eyes had begun to water from the pleasure and frustration.
My arms were shaking. The seatback leather was slick under my palms. I looked down and saw his silver hair mussed against the cushion, his shoulders working as he ate me out much like he did everything else. With an intensity that bordered on obsessive, focusing all his attention on the slow invasion of his tongue.
My body bloomed for him and my harsh moans filled the air. Warmth tightened at the base of my stomach, and I felt it trickle out of me, right onto his tongue. The scent of my arousal filled the car and I nearly choked on it.
He pulled back just long enough to speak. "You’re doing so well."
My hips rolled downward in a helpless little circle at the praise, and Jericho made a sound of satisfaction, his hands sliding from my thighs to my ass, gripping tight.
"Again," he groaned.
I did it again.
His tongue flattened against me, and suddenly he was everywhere at once. Licking, sucking, pressing, consuming.
And I lost track of time. Lost track of the road. Lost track of everything except the hot, wet pressure between my legs that was beginning to spiral out from my core. My clit was throbbing now, neglected and desperate, but every time I tried to angle my hips to bring it into contact with his mouth, Jericho’s hands tightened on my ass and held me in place.
"Not yet," he said.
"Please."
"Not yet."
I made a sound that was almost a growl. "Jericho, I swear to God—"
His tongue entered me again. Deeper this time, deeper than he’d, and the stretch of it bordered on pain. I gasped. The ache inside flared white-hot for a single heartbeat before dissolving into something darker, a pleasure so intense it felt like falling.
"Okay?" he asked, pulling back.
"Yes. Yes. Don’t stop."
He didn’t.
At some point, my fingers left the seat and pressed against the windows. This couldn’t be real. I wasn’t riding Jericho’s face and crying myself hoarse. And I felt the slow, relentless build of my orgasm, tipping higher and higher, as he seduced it out of me.
And when I couldn’t take it anymore, his tongue found my clit.
The stroke was featherlight, just the tip of his tongue barely grazing the swollen bud, but after being edge after what felt like an eternity, it might as well have been a lightning strike.
I cried out. The sound was too loud for the confines of the car, too raw for dignity, and I didn’t care at all.
"Like that?" Jericho asked, and I could hear the smugness in his voice.
"Buzzard," I answered, and his hands on my ass pulled me down harder, pressing me more firmly against his mouth, and I realized with a dim, distant part of my brain that I was grinding on him now, a rhythmic roll of my hips that I had no control over whatsoever.
My breath came in sharp, ragged bursts that fogged the window in front of me and he flicked his tongue against it in a pattern that was clearly designed to kill me. "I’m going to--Jericho."
It started at my center and spread outward, a rush of heat and relief and impossible pleasure that turned my bones to water. I made sounds I couldn’t identify. Words, maybe. His name, probably. Nothing that mattered.
And I must’ve lost time, because when my eyes opened again, I was draped across Jericho’s lap, my head resting against his thigh, eyelids extremely heavy.
His fingers were playing lightly in my hair, but he was staring thoughtfully at one of the papers from the arranged stacks in the corner.
I blinked, feeling groggy. "What happened?"
His gaze slid to me. "You passed out." His eyes crinkled and I realized he was laughing at me. "Welcome back to earth, malyshka."