Chapter 1265: Wandering Hands, Mouth and Wet Bodies (r-18)

Phei kissed lower; the hollow of her throat to the slope of her collarbone. The upper swell of her breast, where water still ran in thin, shining trails over skin gone flushed and sensitive. He followed one of those trails with his tongue, then closed his mouth over her nipple and sucked slowly, thoroughly, as if he had all morning and no intention of wasting any of it. Melissa’s back arched.

A richer sound left her whole her breast in his mouth felt even fuller now, the peak tightening against his tongue.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, not pulling him away — holding him there and tighter.

He gave the other breast the same unhurried worship. Open-mouthed kisses over the soft underside. The slow drag of his tongue across the tight bud and the gentlest scrape of his teeth that made her thighs tighten around him and another moan spill from her throat.

All the while his cock stayed pressed between them against the warm plane of her belly, and here pussy and Melissa’s hand finally slid down between their bodies to find it.

Her fingers closed around his dick.

Phei’s breath broke against her skin.

She could barely wrap her hand around the girth and the shaft was heavy than she remembered, it was so ridged and pulsing hot against her palm. She stroked him once, slow and wet from the bath and from her, feeling every throb, every vein, the way the swollen head leaked against her fingers.

He kissed her again for that — deeper, hungrier — then he caught her other wrist and kissed the inside of it before guiding her hand back to him.

"Keep touching me," he murmured against her mouth. "I want your hands on me while I take my time with you."

Melissa hand worked him in long, lazy strokes while his mouth traveled lower.

He kissed the underside of her breasts, where the skin was even softer, even warmer to the sensitive line of her ribs until the tight trembling plane of her stomach.

There he lingered there.

Phei went still for a moment, both his hands framing the gentle swell of her womb, thumbs stroking the warm, taut skin as if the life beneath it could feel him. Then he bent and kissed her there. Once. Twice. Then again, slower, open-mouthed, the kind of kiss that was half devotion and half hunger. Melissa’s fingers tightened around his cock.

"Mhmm~" A shaky sound left her. "You’re being ridiculous," she whispered, though her voice had gone soft and wrecked.

"I’m being thorough."

He kissed lower still, just above the place where his Mark had vanished, then returned to her stomach as if he could not stay away from it. His tongue traced a slow circle over the taut skin. His hands held her as though she might vanish if he loosened his grip. Melissa’s other hand came to the back of his head, holding him against her womb while she kept stroking him, her rhythm faltering every time his mouth lingered too long.

He lifted her slightly and laid her back along the warm stone, water still dripping from both of them.

Steam curled over her body — over the full, wet weight of her breasts, the tight peaks, the living curve of her belly, the dark, glistening heat between her thighs. Then he started again from the beginning, as if the first pass had only been an introduction.

Ankles. Calves. The inner line of her knees.

Phei kissed his way up the inside of one thigh with devastating patience, feeling her tremble under his mouth, feeling the heat grow sharper the closer he came to the join of her legs.

Melissa’s hand stayed around his cock even then, stroking him in shaky pulls, her other arm flung above her head. Soft, continuous sounds spilled from her from little moans, broken breaths, his name when his mouth found a place that made her hips lift.

He did not go where she wanted him yet.

He kissed the other thigh the same way; slow, claiming and reverent at once.

Only then did he lower his mouth to her pussy.

He kissed her pussy the way he had kissed her mouth — soft first, almost careful. The first touch of his lips against her was warm and unhurried, pressed to the slick, swollen folds as if he meant to greet her rather than devour her.

Melissa’s whole body jerked; a broken moan tore out of her.

She was already wet not just from water; the soft inner lips glistening with her juice and the small peak of her clit was flushed and tight beneath his mouth.

Phei kissed her there again softer and then slower.

Phei parted Melissa’s pussy with his thumbs and looked at her properly; the wet, delicate folds of her pussy, the way she opened for him and the way her body clenched when his breath ghosted over her.

He kissed her open pussy and his tongue dragging in one long, lazy stroke from her entrance up through her, until Melissa’s back arched off the stone.

Her hand left him and flew to his hair.

"Phei— ah—"

He stayed there, kissing and tasting Melissa, worshipping the slick pussy with his mouth until her thighs shook on either side of his head. He licked her in slow, thorough passes, then closed his lips around that swollen little peak of hers and sucked with devastating gentleness. Melissa’s moans turned wet and continuous.

Her hips rolled against Phei’s mouth, chasing every stroke of him.

Clear, warm wetness spilled over his lips and chin, and he drank her like she belonged to him.

He did not rush Melissa. He built her with a kiss to that sensitive place of hers, then a slow, deep stroke of his tongue through her, then two of his fingers sliding into the tight, fluttering heat of Melissa while his mouth stayed devoted to her.

Melissa cried out, her thighs clamping around Phei’s head, her womb tightening under his other hand as he kept her there — licking her, sucking her, curling inside her until her whole body drew taut.

She came with a broken, helpless sound, her pussy clenching hard around Phei’s fingers, her wetness spilling in a warm rush over his mouth.

Her back arched and her breasts lifted; Melissa’s nipples hard become tight and her stomach trembled under his palm. Phei kissed Melissa through it, soft even then, drinking every pulse of her until her thighs shook and her moans turned into wrecked, breathless little sounds.

Only when the last tremor eased did he kiss his way back up Melissa, over her womb, over her breasts, back to her mouth so she could taste herself on him.

Melissa pulled Phei down, her wet body arching up into his, her breasts crushed to his chest, her hand finding him again — still thick, still leaking, still aching for her. Phei’s palm returned to her womb and stayed there, protective and possessive, while his other hand slid over her hip, her waist, the full curve of her ass.

"Every inch of you," he said against Melissa’s lips. "I want all of it."

Melissa moaned into the next kiss, her thighs opening around him, the head of him sliding through the slick, oversensitive heat of her without entering her yet.

She rolled her hips, chasing the pressure, her hand guiding Phei along her soaked folds in slow, sinful strokes.

He kissed her again; her mouth, her throat, the swell of her breast, the warm living curve of her womb — again and again, as if marking Melissa with his mouth first.

Melissa’s sounds grew wetter, needier.

Her hand on him grew bolder.

She stroked Phei from base to tip, her thumb spreading his wetness over the flushed head of him, then brought him back against her, rubbing him through her while his mouth stayed devoted to her stomach and the soft, ruined sounds she made.

He was in no hurry to finish the worship.

He had the whole of Melissa under his hands and mouth — pregnant, wet, trembling, already spent once and already asking for more — and Phei intended to take every inch of her the way she had asked him to make it memorable.