As if on cue, I feel myself getting wetter, and Cash chuckles before diving in to lap up my arousal. His fingers keep working into me, finding that spot that makes me gasp and shiver at the way it makes the sensations even sharper.
“Fuck,” I hiss out, squirming in place. “Fuck, Cash.”
“Just like that,” he says. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Do you know what that means?” His eyes flick up to meet mine before dipping back down to my pussy. “It means you’re getting close for me. I can feel it. I can taste it.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, but suddenly all my brain power is going toward keeping myself sitting upright. My thighs tremble as pleasure lashes through me, intense and almost painful. But it’s the good kind of pain, the kind that leaves wildfire burning in my body and consumes everything it touches.
Cash keeps going, pumping his wrist to fuck me on his fingers, while licking up every drop of my wetness he can get his tongue on. The sounds are wet and filthy in the kitchen, broken up only by my harsh breathing and little whines of pleasure.
There’s something hungry in it but also something possessive. When his eyes meet mine, there’s a light in them that says he wants this. That he wants to be the person to make me come.
“Let go, Harper,” he says, his silky deep voice curling around the words. “Let go for me. Stop thinking and just feel.”
“I’m—I’m trying…”
He shakes his head. “Don’t try. Don’t put any thought into it. Just feel what I’m doing to you. How good it is. It is good, isn’t it?”
I nod eagerly because it is. It really fucking is.
“Tell me. Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”
“Y—you.” I barely get the word out when he rubs against that spot again. My breathing keeps stuttering, and my heart is galloping in my chest like a wild thing.
“Say it. Say my name,” he orders.
“Cash! Fuck, Cash, I’m so?—”
He presses into me deeper, adding a third finger and curling all of them. “Again.”
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Cash. Cash, it’s you. You’re—it’s so?—”
“Good girl,” he breathes. “Now I want you to come for me. I want you to feel everything I’m doing to you, and I want you to let yourself go.”
Something about being told to do it helps a lot. It’s like a door unlocking inside me, swinging open to let me finally,finallyexperience the full force of what he’s doing.
His mouth drops back to my clit, and he grazes it with his teeth just lightly. Just enough for me to feel the edge of pain there before he soothes it away with his tongue.
I gasp for breath, unable to stop the shaking of my body and the tide of intensity that comes right on the heels of everything he’s doing to me.
It shouldn’t work.
It usually doesn’t.
But there’s no way I can stop it.
My orgasm builds and builds and builds and then crashes over me with a force unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I stop breathing for a second, giving a broken cry of Cash’s name that echoes in the kitchen. My thighs tremble around his head as hekeeps working me, and I try to keep myself afloat through each crashing wave of pleasure.
It’s more intense than anything I’ve ever felt, and my vision goes white around the edges. I didn’t think it was possible, and somehow the shock of it makes everything even more overwhelming.
Cash doesn’t let up once I come either. He works me through every aftershock, gentling his licks and pressing kisses to my pussy.
I can feel the heat of his breath against my inner thigh, the way he’s panting too as he licks me up like I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.
I have no idea how long it goes on. For a while there it’s like I’m just floating along somewhere outside my body, wrapped in a warm cocoon of post orgasmic haze.
But slowly I come back to myself. I can feel the hard counter under my ass and the way my muscles feel loose and wobbly, like I’ve been working out or something.
Cash is there, getting to his feet while keeping one hand on me, like he needs to be touching me while I get my shit together.