Oranges
Oranges
Part III
He could hear her breathing in the silence between them. He could smell her.
Layers of smells. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, adrenaline. With one hand
on the back of her neck he held her still, a breath away from his face. With
the other he rubbed at the slick wet skin between her legs, women's skin, his
favorite kind. It was always soft and velvety. He loved the smell of their lotions
and soaps. Perfume. This girl though, this Ramalia, she smelled like oranges,
like fruit. It was strongest near her pulse points, as if it ran through her
veins, oozed through her skin. Her breath caught and stopped as his rough thumb
strummed over the sensitive clit. It made her jump. She felt his hot breath
rush over her lips. She heard him swallow when she gasped. His fingertips glistened
as he touched them to her open mouth, spreading her own musky juices over her
lips and tongue.
"I want to have a taste of that
pussy," he whispered, pulling her into a kiss. "I want to fuck you
with my tongue, little girl." His thumb still brushed at her sensitive
pink nub. She was so wet. She was embarrassed at the sounds her body made, the
wet, sucking sounds beneath his touch. He wanted to feel her buck against his
hand, but even when he stuck a finger inside of her, she didn't move. She froze
in position. He heard her swallow, watched her throat move, her eyes blink.
Her heart began to pound, her thighs were quivering and she pulled away. He
grabbed her wrist before she could get off the bed and made her sit back down.
"Don't you run away from me girl. I'm not done with you yet."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I
was...I was going to get you some water."
"I don't want water," he
said, inching closer to her. "I want you. I want to hear you."
Her face flushed hot. She tried to
communicate silently, to plead with him with her eyes. She pulled her legs together
tightly, but at the same time she ached for the release he could give her. She
wanted to know what it was like.
"Hear me?"
"I want to hear you come,"
he said, tipping his head to the side, running three fingers over her taut nipples.
She felt a jolt of electricity from her breasts to her pussy. She squeezed her
legs together tighter.
"I..."
"Are you arguing with me, my
little whore? I paid to get what I want. I paid to get it several times tonight.
Making up for lost time, sugar."
"I...I'm here for you, sir. I'm
here to make you come. Not me." Her eyes were wide and watery around the
edges, her bottom lip trembled, still glistening from the kiss they'd shared.
A feathery pink flush was spreading across her naked chest. He could swear she
was...afraid.
"I don't want to come again yet.
We've got all night, sweetcake. I want to listen to you howl. I want to hear
you whine for me."
"I can't," she said simply,
looking at her knees. "I don't do that. I...never have."
He laughed out loud, his smile wide,
but stopped when she didnt join in. She wasnt joking. She was a closed flower,
he thought to himself. Not a virgin, but still a rookie of sorts. She was shaking
now, still looking into her lap, her hands resting on her thighs, palms up.
A tear fell from her cheek to her open palm and he got up.
"Lay down," he said quietly.
"On your back." He walked over to the table and selected an orange
and began peeling it in one long ribbon of skin.
"What..."
"Do what I say little girl. Just because you've never popped your cork doesn't mean you can't. I'm here to save the day, baby. Your knight in shining armor."