The Bacelor: Make A Sex Deal

“Yesss.” Just as I filled my lungs again, I yelled, “Ahhh!” This time because something freezing was on my nipple. “What the hell is that?” My back fell against the mattress, and the coldness moved to my other breast. “Ice?” I swallowed. “Is that what it is?”

“Wait until I press it on your cunt.”

My toes ground into the bed as he dragged the cube down my chest and stomach, stopping at the top of my boy shorts.

“They look so fucking perfect on you. I hate to take them off.” He gripped the sides of the panties. “But they have to go.”

And just like that, they were gone from my body, my bareness completely out in the open, and the first thing I felt was air. Like he was blowing as hard as he could across my pussy.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

My legs attempted to close, but he kept them open, maneuvering some part of his body on each of my inner thighs so I couldn’t move them inward.

“Do you know how fucking hot it is that I can tie you up and you completely trust me?”

I felt so exposed.

Devoured.

Desired.

And even though I couldn’t see him, my vision filled with white fireworks on a black background. I felt his stare scanning every part of me.

“And how badly I want to be inside you right now?”

“You can.”

“Don’t tempt me, Oaklyn. We’re at four, not five.”

“But-”

My voice cut off when his tongue touched down.

Landing.

Wiggling.

On that fucking spot.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

A feeling I’d never had.

And with it came silence.

Because I couldn’t process.

I couldn’t think.

I couldn’t even react.

I could only take.

My hips lifted, angling him there, trying to keep him from ever leaving.

What he gave me was a slow, gradual lick that started at my entrance and lifted to my clit.

I didn’t need more.

That was enough.

And it was more consuming than I’d ever felt.

When I could finally comprehend what was happening, when I found my voice, when I was able to release the feeling through sound, I let out the longest, most honest exhale, along with, “Camden …”

“Mmm.” He was dragging the wetness from the bottom of me to the top. He wasn’t hurried. He wasn’t using strong pressure. He was just loving me there. “I’ve waited so long to do this. To know what you taste like directly from your pussy rather than licking you off my finger or yours. To feel your goddamn heat on my tongue.” His voice turned to a whisper. “Oaklyn, you couldn’t possibly be more perfect.”

Just when I was going to moan.

Just when I thought this couldn’t feel any better.

Just when I was positive there was a build happening inside me.

Everything changed.

It turned … frozen.

“Oh shit,” I cried. “Ah!”

The ice was on my clit.

But that wasn’t it. There was a fullness now too.

One that came from a finger that was carefully sliding into me.

I wasn’t sure, but it felt like he was twisting his hand as he dived in, hitting me from every direction.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he hissed.

I hadn’t known the location of his face until his words hit my stomach.

“I can’t get enough of you, Oaklyn.”

The ice was circling my belly button, melting and dripping.

Down, down, dooown.

And he licked each droplet.

“I can’t.” I tried to hold in air, my head shaking back and forth. “I just can’t.”

“You’re lost, aren’t you?”

My head nodded. “So far gone.”

I heard a crunch, assuming it was the ice he was chomping, and suddenly, there was something cold against my clit. Like little shards were stuck to the flatness of his tongue, which he was pressing onto me.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t lick.

He just stayed like that, his finger going in deeper, aiming toward that spot I remembered so well.

The one toward the inside of my stomach.

The one only Camden had touched.

And once things started to warm down there, when the ice was fully gone, he replaced the frost with speed. Pressure. Those came from his tongue, pointed at the top of my clit, rubbing it.

Horizontally.

With an amount of friction that caused everything-even my voice-to scream.

“Oh shit!” I shouted.

Waves were rocking in my stomach, sparks flying across me.

Moving.

Rising.

“Camden!”

“Let me taste your cum.” He licked harder. “Come for me, baby.”

My orgasm rose to a peak. It happened so quickly that I hardly even felt the climb.

It was just there.

At the highest point.

Holding me hostage, causing every part of me to shake.

Tremble.

Shudder.

“Fuck!” I screamed. “Camden, yes! Yesss!”

He began to move so fast-his hand, his tongue-licking me through the crest and past each swell until I turned still.

“That was so fucking sexy,” he growled, kissing up and down my pussy.

He was soft.

Tender.

Just when I thought he was going to take off the blindfold and release my wrists, there was a new feeling on my body.

It took a moment before I could figure out what it was.

I was far too sensitive to differentiate what, where, and how-my senses getting mixed and jumbled-but after a few seconds, I realized it was the eyelash kisses.

Which, after a few sweeps, I was certain it was a feather.

It went over my nipples, rotating around them, over and under my breasts, moving from one side of my chest to the other until he was brushing it between my legs.

The touch of the feather felt like a whisper.

Light.

Fragile.

All I could do was moan.

“And you thought I was done.” His statement vibrated across me because his lips were on my clit. “Except I’m not. I need to watch you come again.”

He was in my head.

I didn’t know how.

But he knew.