Valka
I obey, instinctively, the salt of my own skin sharp on my tongue, my jaw working around his fingers. He pulls them out, slick with my saliva, and returns his hand between my legs. While his mouth works magic on my clit, those cool, saliva-slicked fingers find my entrance again. This time, he pushes one deep, curling it inside me, pressing against that spot that makes my vision grey at the edges. I buck against his face, a sob tearing from my throat.
"Feel that?" he rasps, lifting his head for a second, his chin gleaming. The white of his irises are non-existent. "Feel how perfectly you take me? Made for this. Made for my fingers. My tongue." He sinks a second finger inside alongside the first, stretching me, filling me, his thumb finding my clit.
My mouth falls open on a silent cry as he begins a relentless rhythm--fingers pistoning deep, thumb circling hard, his mouth returning to suck my clit into the wet heat of his mouth, tongue flicking rapidly.
