My tongue traced a line from the top of her, down to her c**t. She tasted like honey and coconuts, like she always did, mixed with the underlying sweet taste of her arousal— and knowing she was wet for me was a f*****g absolution.
I pressed a kiss to her c**t, and she cried out, arching her hips up to meet my mouth. In that moment, I swore the sound of her in absolute bliss because of me would be better than any orgasm I’d ever have. Ever noise she made was f*****g addictive.
My tongue ravished her then, worshipped her for everything she was— my angel on earth, sent here to either save me or torture me— I wasn’t sure which one.
Because in that moment, with her taste in my mouth and my tongue making her breathless, I realized something, despite my hard d**k and cloudy head.
I loved
