"Spent"
Chapter Thirty-Four
By darthelwig
*** I own nothing. I'm just having fun. ***
He says her name like a prayer as he looks up at her from where he kneels next to the bed, between her parted legs.
"Wanda."
She shivers hearing it, goosebumps dotting her flesh. He forever has this effect on her, can make her aroused, make her crazy, make her come with just a word. She is wet with desire.
"Wanda," he whispers against her skin as he rests his face against her thigh. She feels his lips move, watches as he brushes them over her in the softest of caresses. He worships her nightly now, but his touch never fails to excite her.
It isn't always this way. Most often he is firm, demanding, unyielding, and she craves it. But tonight is a time for tenderness, her heart a giant wound in her chest, and he knew without asking what she needed. She thinks he knows her better than she knows herself.
"Wanda," he says again as he pulls her forward and dips his head to her core. His breath is a tease, but only for a moment. He slides his tongue into her folds and she moans and spreads herself wider for him, wanton and needy.
She clutches at his head but he is immovable. He takes her at his own pace, slow licks and swirls driving her mad. Her hips rock and thrust, but he controls her with strong, steady hands and a firm grip. She is in his power, as always, and he will give her what she needs.
"Wanda," he moans, and she gasps at the way it feels when his face is buried so deep within her. He devours her with teeth and tongue and lips. The room is filled with the obscene sounds of his lust, and she has never heard anything more erotic.
He pulls back only to slide a finger inside her. It is not enough, but she cries out as he curls it up into that perfect spot, finding it unerringly as he always does. She whimpers, watches a slow smile spread across his face.
Her back arches, head thrown back, when he adds a second finger, stretching her tight opening. She wants him to both draw this exquisite torture out and bring it to a climax all at once, and would beg if she could only decide one or the other.
"Oh, Wanda."
She is writhing, breaths coming in stuttering gasps, aware only of the way he moves inside of her. What little breath she has is expelled in one great rush when he takes her clit between his lips and sucks, and she falls back onto the bed as she quakes with the magnitude of her orgasm.
She rides one crest to another as he swirls his tongue around the slick, swollen nub, his fingers pumping and massaging her aching, wet core as well. He fucks her through a second peak before he is satisfied, his mouth moving to press damp kisses to her thighs.
Wanda pushes herself up and pulls him in for a kiss, savoring her taste on his lips. He looks up at her like she is a goddess, like he could spend eternity worshiping her, and she melts under his gaze.
"Wanda," he says quietly, her name like a prayer. She has never said this to him before, but she knows it to be true, so she tells him.
"I love you, Vis." Her voice is breathless, her hand cupping his cheek as she meets his stunned expression with a smile. His fingers trace her face and he looks at her as if seeing her for the very first time.
"Love?" he asks.
"Yes," she says simply. "I love you."
His kiss is answer enough for now.