34.

His touches burned my skin with the kind of fire you don't want to put out, because it's too beautiful to be extinguished.

The first time I had felt it, I didn't know where this would take me, where this would take us.

But the mystery of it all is something I cherished then, and cherish even now.

His tongue lands exactly where I want it, and I squirm under his touch, biting down on my hand to relieve the pressure and also hold back the moans that were due to escape my lips. He brings my leg up over his shoulder, in an attempt to spread me out further, so he could reach a deeper spot. His movements are slow and torturous at first, but then with my free hand I begin to tug on his hair so hard that I was afraid I might snap his neck, but I needed something to hold onto desperately.

"Shit," he groans, as he pulls back a little, and goes to nip at the skin on my pubic bone, before dipping back down.

Or rather, after I push his head back down.