The Incubus System Chapter 1419. Patience is Overrated
The Incubus System Chapter 1419. Patience is Overrated
Her thumb brushed lightly over the tip, smearing the wetness that had already gathered there in a slow circle.
A faint, satisfied smirk touched her lips as she watched my reaction.
Then she leaned closer, her other hand moving up to cup the back of my neck.
Her face was inches from mine now.
Her breath warm against my mouth.
The scent of her perfume, warm, rich, faintly spiced, seemed to fill my lungs entirely.
The game had ended.
And the real thing was beginning.
She stroked me once.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A full length pull from base to tip that made my whole body tighten in response.
“Lilieth,” I breathed.
My hips shifted, rising slightly into the motion as a quiet gasp escaped me, the movement involuntary but unmistakable.
Her fingers tightened slightly around me, stroking again, setting a slow, teasing rhythm that made the pleasure build like a current beneath my skin.
Every muscle in my body tensed slightly in response, the warmth coiling in my stomach as a deep, hungry need began to grow.
My hands, still braced behind me on the mattress, clenched into fists, the rough texture of the sheets grounding me as the pleasure built.
My breath came in shorter, rougher pulls now.
Each exhale was a quiet groan, the sound rough with need.
My eyes drifted shut for a second, the overwhelming sensations flooding my senses, the warmth of her touch, the scent of her skin, the subtle flex of her fingers as she moved again.
Her other hand slid up the back of my neck, her fingers threading into my hair, her grip firm but not painful.
Possessive.
Loving.
She tugged my head back slightly, exposing the line of my throat.
Her lips brushed against my jaw.
Soft.
Warm.
A fleeting touch that sent a shiver through me.
I turned my head, chasing the contact, wanting more.
She chuckled, a low, husky sound that vibrated against my skin.
“Patience,” she murmured, her lips moving against my earlobe.
Her teeth scraped lightly against the sensitive skin there, sending another, sharper jolt of pleasure through me.
I groaned, the sound deep and unrestrained.
“Patience is overrated,” I managed, my voice rough with need.
Her lips curved into a smile against my skin.
“Perhaps.”
Her strokes slowed, becoming even more deliberate, each one a deliberate, measured caress that made the pleasure co tighter and hotter inside me.
My hips rocked in a slow, unconscious rhythm, rising to meet her touch, my body begging for more.
Then, her hand movement got bolder. Faster.
“Lilieth…”
Her name was a plea, a whispered prayer, the sound of it raw and unguarded.
She responded by tightening her grip, her strokes becoming faster, more demanding.
My head tilted back, exposing the column of my throat.
Her lips left a trail of fire down the line of my throat, her tongue darting out to taste the salt on my skin.
I could feel the heat of her breath, the soft press of her lips, the sharp, teasing scrape of her teeth.
Each sensation was a brand, marking me as hers.
My hands, which had been braced behind me, now moved, my fingers digging into her hips, pulling her closer, needing the contact, needing the feel of her body against mine.
She shifted, her movements fluid and graceful as she straddled my lap, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of my thighs.
The change in position sent a new wave of desire through me, the feel of her, so close, so warm, a delicious torment.
Her breasts, still confined in the delicate fabric of her blouse, brushed against my chest, the friction sending sparks of electricity through me.
Then she stopped. A smirk bloomed on her face.
She took out her hand slowly, only for unzipped my jeans. The slow rasp of the zipper was like a thunderclap in the quiet room, a promise of what was to come.
She hooked her fingers into the waistband of my jeans and boxers, her gaze locking with mine.
The look in her eyes was a mixture of hunger and adoration, a look that made my heart pound and my cock ache with need.
With a single, fluid motion, she pulled them down, the fabric turning into dark aura.
My cock, now freed, stood hard and proud, a testament to my desire for her.
Her gaze dropped, her eyes darkening with hunger.
Her gaze lifted back to mine, and in her eyes, I saw everything. The love, the desire, the possessive pride.
Instead, she leaned forward, her hands bracing on my shoulders, and slowly, torturously, she lowered her mouth onto my hard cock.
"You can't cum... before I say so~" she whispered. Her warm, wet mouth enveloped me, a perfect, exquisite heat that sent a jolt of pure pleasure straight to my soul.
The room faded away, the only reality was the feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her.
My hips bucked, a desperate, involuntary movement, seeking more of that incredible pleasure.
Her hands moved from my shoulders to my hips, her fingers digging into my flesh, holding me down, asserting her control.
A low growl rumbled in my chest, the sound of a predator being tamed, the sound of a king submitting to his queen.
I wanted to take over, to flip her onto the bed and fuck her until she couldn't remember her own name.
But I didn't.
I let her have this.
Let her have me.
Her head bobbed, her movements rhythmic and sure. Her tongue was a masterful instrument, swirling and teasing, driving me to the brink of insanity.
The pleasure was a wave, building and building, a storm gathering on the horizon.
My hands fisted in the sheets, my knuckles white.
"F*ck," I gasped, my voice a ragged plea.
She looked up at me, her lips stretched around my cock, her eyes shining.
The sight was enough to make me lose control.