“Just like before, you’ll have to tell me what you like,” he murmured against my skin, kissing the spot above my belly button as one finger dipped under the cup of my bra. It brushed against my nipple in time with a swipe of his tongue over my stomach, and I shivered, hands tightening into fists at my sides. “And what you don’t.”

I nodded, though my heart was racing so loud I could barely hear him. I just watched in a mixture of fear and anticipation as he trailed his kisses lower, flipping up the hem of my skirt to reveal my white lace panties beneath it.

Clay fixed his eyes on me, then trailed one soft fingertip down the center of the fabric, the sensation so light it was a brutal tease against my aching clit.

“Clay,” I cried, my head falling back as my eyes closed.

“Fuck, Kitten,” he said next, his fingertips playing at the seam of my thong. “You fucking loved that, didn’t you? Being on your knees for me. You’re soaked.”

He slicked a finger through my wetness with the comment, and heat invaded my neck even though I opened for him more. I was as ashamed as I was aroused, and the latter won over.

“Yes,” I confessed.

“What did you like?” he teased, running the pad of his thumb over the fabric and back down again. It pressed the harsh lace against me, a burning friction that made me writhe with need. “Did you like how I tasted, how you gagged on my cock?”

“Yes,” I breathed, rolling my lips together as I squirmed beneath his touch. “And I loved when you came because of me.”

“All because of you,” he validated, and that made my nipples peak, made me light up with pride and power.

Clay lowered himself even more, until he was lying on his stomach with his elbows propped under my legs. I had no choice but to set my thighs on his shoulders, and my knees bent inward, because I was suddenly aware that my wet sex was right in his face.

“Don’t,” he said, stopping me before my knees could touch. He gently tapped the inside of each one until I let them fall back open. “I want to see you, Kitten,” he cooed. “I want to taste you.”

A breath of a moan fell through my lips as he did just that, keeping his eyes on me as he ran the flat of his tongue over the lace of my panties. He soaked whatever my pussy hadn’t already, wetting the fabric and using his tongue to press against it and rub a sweet friction over my clit.

“Oh, God,” I breathed, head falling back against the dome again. My hands shot out for his hair instinctively, but I tore them away, reaching for my sides, instead.