Divine Milking System-Chapter 48 | The Overwhelming Pleasure of Giving Him Everything
He walked her backward toward the bed. Not rushed, just directed, his hands moving from her hips to her waist as they moved, and when the back of her knees hit the mattress he caught her, lowered her down onto it like she was worth the care. She landed against the cream-colored sheets and looked up at him standing over her and felt the nervous return at a different frequency. Lower. More specific.
"Hi," she said, slightly ridiculous.
"Hi," he said back, not even a little ridiculous, somehow. He sat beside her and reached out, tucking a strand of pink-black hair back from her face with his thumb. "Tell me if anything’s wrong."
"Nothing is wrong."
"Naomi."
"I’ll tell you," she promised. "I will actually tell you."
He nodded once. Then he leaned down and kissed her jaw. Just below her ear. Her breath came out choppy.
His mouth moved down her throat, slow and thorough, and her back made an arch she hadn’t planned. His hands came to her shoulders, found the straps of her sports bra where they sat over the hoodie, and paused.
She sat up enough to pull the hoodie over her own head.
The cool air of the sanctum hit her bare arms and stomach, and then the straps were just sitting there on her shoulders and Jace was right in front of her, and Naomi could feel her own pulse in places she’d previously been unaware had pulses.
He reached for the left strap first.
He slid it down her shoulder, slow, watching her face the entire time, and she let him, and the right strap followed the same way, and then the sports bra was just fabric bunched at her waist and Naomi sat in front of him with her chest exposed in the soft fake-moonlight and her face absolutely on fire.
His breath came out different. She noticed.
"Naomi," he said. Just her name. Just that.
"Don’t say anything," she managed. "I’m going to get shy."
"You look—"
"Jace."
He closed his mouth. He looked at her instead, and the looking was loud enough that she felt it on her skin, and then he moved, and his mouth found her neck again, below her jaw, moving down, and she tipped her head back and made a sound she couldn’t have stopped if she’d tried.
"Mmh—"
His lips dragged down the curve of her throat. Down to her collarbone. Along it. She felt his breath first, warm, then his mouth below that, soft and deliberate, working down toward the swell of her left breast in a way that made her fingers curl into the sheets on either side of her.
"Jace—" Her voice broke in the middle of his name.
He pressed his mouth to the top of her breast. Then lower. Then the skin just at the edge of her nipple, a slow circle around it without touching it, and Naomi’s hips moved completely against her will.
"Please," she said. The word fell out embarrassingly easily.
He covered her nipple with his mouth.
"Ah—"
Wet heat. Suction. His tongue, slow and deliberate, and Naomi’s spine went loose as the sensation rolled through her chest and down her stomach and further, connecting in ways that anatomy class had never adequately explained. Her hand found the back of his head before she’d decided to move it. Her fingers pressed gently into his hair.
She felt it start. The warmth gathering in her breasts, familiar now from last night, like her body had already learned the cue and was simply waiting for permission.
He sucked, steady and patient, and Naomi heard herself make a sound that was mostly vowel and entirely involuntary.
"Hnn—"
The milk came.
And Jace made a sound against her, low and satisfied, and swallowed, and Naomi stared at the sanctum ceiling with the fake moonlight painting silver across it and thought, distantly, that she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do about any of this.
The ceiling of the sanctum had no cracks to count.
Naomi found this out because she needed something to stare at that wasn’t Jace’s eyes, and the ceiling was the only option, and it was perfect and featureless and completely useless as a distraction.
Haah—
His mouth pulled again. Slow and thorough, like he had nowhere to be, like the sanctum had all the time in the world stored inside it, and the milk came easy now, her body having decided somewhere between last night and this moment that Jace was safe to give to.
Her fingers pressed into his hair. Not directing. Just holding.
Nn—
The warmth spread from where his mouth worked and moved outward in slow rings, down her sternum, across her ribs, settling low in her stomach like something gathering weight. She’d felt this last night. She knew what it meant. Her body knew what it meant. That knowledge made it worse, somehow. Made the anticipation sit heavier because she couldn’t pretend she didn’t know where this was going.
Then his hand moved.
It slid off her hip and found the waistband of her shorts, and Naomi made a sound that wasn’t quite a word.
"Jace—"
He didn’t stop drinking. His eyes came up instead, finding her face, and the glow was back. Low amber light behind his irises, the system doing whatever the system did, and being looked at like that while his mouth was full of her milk and his hand was sliding under the fabric of her shorts was almost too much to process as a single event.
Ha— She bit her lip. "Jace, I’m not—"
His fingers found her.
"Oh—"
No preamble. No testing. He pressed his palm flat against her and felt exactly what she’d confessed about earlier, exactly the situation she’d walked in here having already created for herself, and even in the dim sanctum light she could see his expression shift. Something appreciative and dark.
Haah.
He circled, slow.
Her hips moved.
She hadn’t planned that. Her hips just decided to participate and there was nothing she could do about it because he was still drinking from her left breast, pulling long and steady, and his fingers were doing something below that made the two sensations braid together into something she didn’t have a word for.
Nn—haah—
"Jace." His name came out wrecked. "Jace, that’s—"
Schlk.
