“Isaac … ” Summer breathed, when finally he touched her. It felt like liquid heat poured down through her body, pooling where his mouth touched. Her fingers clawed into the blankets, and she fought to keep from lifting into him. She had to lay back, her arms were trembling so much, and he found one particular spot and she arched involuntarily.
He alternated between lapping and sucking, using what he’d heard through eavesdropping as his teacher, and what he lacked for in knowledge, he more than made up for with enthusiasm. Humming as he lay sprawled out his stomach, his fingers tightened around her hips, pulling her down closer to his mouth.
She knew his name kept tumbling out of her mouth, but she wasn’t aware of how ragged her voice was, of the way she kept gasping in breaths desperately, of the way her hands fisted and flexed. Only the way the heat of his mouth washed over her, the way his touch made the fine hair rise and fall in waves on her skin, the way she danced right on the edge of pleasure and pain — it felt so good. If he hadn’t been holding on to her with fierce, trained strength, she would have been bucking up into his mouth.