Chapter 19 19
POV Katherine
I said nothing. I couldn't. My head was a mess of guilt and desire, of "this is wrong" and "don't stop." He took it as permission.
His tongue came out first, flat and hot, licking from the base of my entrance up to my clit in one long stroke, as if tasting an ice cream he didn't want to melt. The taste of me on his mouth made him groan low, a sound that vibrated against my skin and made me grit my teeth. God, it felt so good. It wasn't clumsy or rushed, like I remembered from Andrew on his best days. It was patient, exploring every fold with the tip of his tongue, returning to the hairs to lick them too, as if nothing about me was too much.
His hands held my ass now, lifting me a little so he could reach better. I spread my legs wider, without thinking, and he rewarded the movement by plunging his tongue into my entrance. Not shallow, no. He thrust it deep, curling it to touch the inner walls, sucking gently as he pulled out. I felt the graze of his teeth on my lips, a light nip that made me let out a choked "ah." My clit throbbed, ignored for a second, and that drove me crazy. I wanted him to touch it, to lick it already, but he wasn't rushing.
He kept licking around, sucking the wet hair, running his tongue over the taut skin of my inner thighs. Every lick was deliberate: he controlled the rhythm, and I could only feel.
My breasts rose and fell quickly, nipples hard brushing the air, and I lowered a hand to touch one, pinching it like he'd done before. The pleasure doubled, a direct shot from my chest to my core. Elliot saw it, and his eyes darkened.
"Like that, Mrs. Ellis. Touch yourself for me. Show me how you like it."
I obeyed, because there was no turning back. I pinched the nipple, tugging gently, and he responded by thrusting two fingers into me at once. Not soft, no. They slid in slippery from my wetness, curling immediately to press that spot inside that made me see stars.
"You feel so tight, Mrs. Ellis, too tight—I could swear I'm the first in a long time." He moved them in circles, stretching me, while his mouth finally covered my clit. He sucked it whole, his tongue flat moving fast now, up and down, side to side. It wasn't a uniform lick; he varied the pressure, hard in the center, soft on the edges, as if he knew every nerve needed something different. I felt his teeth graze the hood, a bite that hurt a little and made me moan loud, the sound bouncing off the walls of the room.
"Elliot!"
"That's it… Don't forget my name."
Fuck, so good. My hips moved on their own, pushing against his face, smearing him with my arousal. He didn't pull away; on the contrary, he buried his nose in my hair, inhaling deep as if smelling something addictive. "So sweet," he murmured against my skin, the vibration making my thighs tremble. He pulled his fingers out, shiny with me, and ran them over my clit before thrusting them back in, three this time, opening me wider.
"You're so small, Mrs. Ellis. Let me stretch you a little more; your walls need to make space." The stretch burned a bit, but it was the good kind of burn, the one that made me feel full, desired. His lips sucked harder now, his tongue spiraling around the clit, pressing right on the sensitive tip.
I started to feel it build, not like a distant wave, but like a knot tightening in my belly, low and hot. Every lick tightened it more, every thrust of his fingers made it bigger. I tried to speak, to tell him I was going to come, but only a broken moan came out.
"Elliot, I..." He understood. He didn't stop. He sped up his tongue, sucking in pulses, like nursing directly from my pleasure. His fingers curled deeper, rubbing that spot rhythmically, and with the other hand he squeezed my ass cheek, digging his nails to anchor me.
The knot snapped all at once, not soft, but with a burst that left me breathless. My whole body tensed, thighs closing around his head, heels digging into his back. It came in spasms, one after another, my entrance contracting around his fingers, my clit pulsing against his tongue. It wasn't a clean explosion; it was messy, with a small squirt that wet my thighs and his chin, and me gasping his name like it was the only thing left. Hot tears ran down my cheeks, not from sadness, but from how intense it was to feel so much after so long without anything.
I came trembling, with my hand in his hair, pulling without realizing, and he kept licking softly, prolonging it, until the last spasm left me limp.
He pulled away slowly, his mouth shiny, lips swollen. He stood up, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, and looked at me as if he'd just won something. I was still sitting there, legs spread, chest heaving, feeling exposed and, fuck, alive. I didn't want to close up. I didn't want to cover myself. I just looked at him, heart pounding wildly.
"See?" he said, voice low, running a finger over my still-sensitive clit, making me shudder. "It wasn't a mistake. And I won't stop until you admit it."
I didn't respond. I couldn't. He helped me down from the desk carefully, dressed me as if we were going for a walk, not as if he'd just eaten me alive. But when his fingers brushed my skin while buttoning my blouse, I knew it wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
The class continued that day as if nothing had happened. We ended up sitting on the living room sofa, with tea I'd prepared while trembling, talking about nothing. Books, the university he wanted. But his eyes kept returning to my mouth, to my crossed legs. And I, for the first time in years, didn't want him to leave. I wanted more. I wanted to know what else he could make me feel.
We went out for lunch hour and came back home without talking about what happened.
In the end, he picked up his backpack and kissed my cheek, casual, as if he hadn't just changed everything.
"See you tomorrow, Mrs. Ellis."
He closed the door, and I was left alone, body still buzzing, skin marked by his fingers. I touched my neck, where his tongue had been, and smiled a little, guilty. What the fuck had I just done? And why didn't I regret it either?
Andrew called that night, finally. His voice sounded tired on the other end.
"Everything okay there?"
"Yes," I lied. "The classes are going well. And you?"
"Good. I'll be back in a few days."
He hung up quickly, without asking more. I stared at the phone, feeling an emptiness that wasn't just for him. It was for me, for what I'd just unleashed. Tomorrow he'd come again. And this time, there'd be no talk. Just us.
I fell asleep with his taste on my skin, imagining his mouth in other places.
This was so wrong, but it felt so good.