Eternal [HS]

Chapter Twenty*

Lips hovering over her clit, close enough that she can nearly feel it, he taunts, "What?" His low, mocking voice sets her body on fire. "Poor little Jo can't ask for what she wants?

Even from down there, he can see that the blush spreading across her face from earlier has worsened. Everything about her body language screams of desperation, of submission, and it fuels him on.

Her eyes flutter shut as she wills herself to focus enough through the arousal, anticipation, and feathery-light touches he gives her to ask, face burning, "Please"—She has to stop for a second, gathering the nerve—"I want you to eat me out."

The smirk that spread across his face makes her toes curl in anticipation.

"That was all y'had to say."

That first uninhibited lick he gives, tongue delving into her with none of the previous teasing attitude he had only seconds ago, is enough to send shockwaves of pleasure rippling through her body. His hands have to press down on her hips hard enough to bruise to keep her in place for him, and she can feel him smiling against her at her involuntary enthusiasm.

Part of her knew when she was fantasizing about him that he would be this way. It wasn't hard to imagine after witnessing his inclination to control the situations around him, despite that he can be easygoing in smaller ways. And even in a moment like this one where he has complete control over her, body and soul, it's hard to ignore what a failure in controlling himself in this relationship with her has been. She may be the one being physically under his power now, but emotionally? He never stood a chance.

She doesn't bother trying to contain the moans that leave her mouth at this point, too wrapped up in him and what he's doing to feel self-conscious. When she first undressed in front of him, she couldn't deny that there was a lingering sense of insecurity that followed her until now, until he sank between her legs and made her forget about it. With every flick of his tongue and caress of his lips, she is left with nothing to do be writhe and gasp beneath him.

"Harry—" the word comes out as more of a whine than it does anything else, and she feels the urgency of those licks and messy, open-mouthed kisses triple in the wake of it.

The fire burning inside of her only flares brighter as the seconds pass.

He keeps her legs in place with ease as he focuses relentlessly on that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking, licking, kissing, and practically worshipping it all while she feels herself building toward her eventual high rapidly. It's as if he knows exactly where she needs him next and can sense whatever she needs him to do send her jaw falling open in a moan, making sounds she never knew she could make. She never thought she was vocal during sex, but maybe that was just because no one she was with was doing it as well as him.

One of her hands reaches out and tugs on his hair, brown curls soft in her closed fist, but it doesn't remain there for long before he slaps it away and presses her arm to the mattress with a hand around her wrist.

"No touching," he pulls away from her for a second to warn, "y'have to lay there and take it like a good girl."

She doesn't say anything, but the way her body squirms tells him everything he needs to know about how that affected her, and he makes note of her reaction for later as he dips his head back down to her.

Much like how he always struck her as the controlling, dominant type, he has had a feeling she'd be this way in bed since the moment they shared at the dinner party, when he pressed her up against the bathroom counter and she melted in his arms. It was so easy to rile her up with a simple kiss or well-placed touch, and it's as evident as it has ever been now that he's actually touching her.