“P-properly?” I stutter, as his tongue traces along my chest.
“Meaning, I’m showing you exactlywhyit’s a good morning.”
He takes my nipple into his mouth, and I gasp. His tongue circles slowly, lazily, and then he scrapes his teeth across the peak and I make a mewling sound as I arch into him.
"Mmm, such tender little nipples," he murmurs, moving to the other breast.
He works his way down my body with the patience of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. His mouth traces the curve of my ribs, nips at my waist, and when he reaches my stomach, he presses a long, slow kiss just below my navel that makes my muscles flutter.
"You're so soft here," he says, almost to himself, his thumb stroking the skin his lips just left.
I normally might deflect that—make a joke about skipping crunches or eating too many of the lodge’s cinnamon rolls. But the way he says it, with his mouth still hot against me and his hand spread wide across my hip, so possessively, I let it go.
He slides lower, and his hands ease my thighs apart. My breath catches because I know where this is going. "Dean?—"
"Shh." He presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh, then the other, and his stubble rasps against the sensitive skin there. I squirm. "Tasting this sweet pussy is part ofmygood morning too, ya know.”
He settles between my legs—shoulders wedging my thighs wider, hands curling around my hips—and I’m already trembling with anticipation.
The first stroke of his tongue silences my nerves.
He licks me slowly, and the sound I make is not dignified. It's a full-bodied, back-arching moan.
"Fuck," I breathe.
“My god, your pussy is delicious,” he murmurs, as he licks and kisses, his tongue sliding through my folds, swirling around my clit, my hand flying to his hair to grab on.
He starts with slow, flat strokes that cover everything, alternating with focused, pointed licks right where I need them, and every time I think I've figured out the pattern, he changes it. His tongue circles, then presses, then retreats to kiss the crease of my thigh before diving back in, and I'm writhing against his mouth in ecstasy.
"I hate that I love how you do that," I pant.
He chuckles, before dropping his mouth back onto me, and this time he sucks on my flesh and then my clit, working it with his tongue. I‘m bucking, seeing white spots behind my eyelids like fireworks at close range.
His hands grip my hips tighter, holding me exactly where he wants me, and he eats me as ifI ambreakfast for a starving lumberjack. The sounds he's making—deep, hungry growls—are obscene, and they're doing as much for me as his tongue.
"Oh my god, Dean, that’s so good. Right there…yes!" I gasp, and my voice comes out high and desperate.
He doubles down, tongue flattening against my clit as he shakes his head slightly from side to side.
Oh fuck…
I come so hard my whole body locks up, then breaks apart, pulsing and shaking, and I'm gripping his hair with one handand the sheet with the other, and the sound I make is somewhere between a sob and a scream.
He works me through it as he groans…gentler, slower, his tongue soft until the aftershocks fade to trembling. Then he kisses the inside of my thigh, my hip, my stomach, and crawls up my body to hover over me with the most self-satisfied expression ever.
I grab his face and kiss him hard, tasting myself on his mouth, and he laughs against my lips.
He’s hard against my thigh as I push his shoulder and he rolls onto his back easily. I slide down his body.
“This cock deserves a good morning, also,” I say, wrapping my hand around him. He groans loudly.
I kiss his chest, then move lower…down his rippled stomach, following that trail of dark hair that has tormented my dreams for the last two weeks. I look up at him from between his legs and his chest is heaving.
"Kaylee." My name comes out strangled.
I don’t answer, I just press my lips to the head of his cock, and he curses. I take him into my mouth and his moans—so deep and broken—are working me up all over again. His fingers thread through my hair, gripping loosely.
I work him the way he worked me, varying the pace, the pressure, and the depth. I go slow when he's getting close, faster when his breathing evens out.