“Quinn,” I begged, needing him to help alleviate all this throbbing pressure he’d created.
His lips were red and swollen when he lifted his face to grin at me, his blue eyes still glazed with alcohol but also, I think, arousal.
“Ready for another biology lesson?”
“What?” I gasped in disbelief, my chest heaving. How could he even think about—
My eyes crossed when he slid his hand down and touched me through my drenched panties.
“I want to teach you about flowers. Flower anatomy.”
What had he just said? Nothing was computing. So I just bobbed my head and slurred, “’Kay.”
“Like humans, flowers can have female reproductive organs, male reproductive organs, or they can have both.” His fingers curled around the band of my underwear, and he began to lower them over my abdomen, then my pubic hair.
I sucked in my stomach, unable to catch a steady breath.
After he peeled the cloth down my legs and tossed them over his shoulder, his gaze focused on me, right where I was wet and aching. I didn’t mean to, but I squirmed until I’d arched my hips an inch off the bed in a silent plea for attention.
His lips spread with a masculine kind of pride. “First, you see the petals that cover the reproductive organs.” His gaze lifted to mine as one of his fingers stroked my petals. “That’s the prettiest part, I think. So pink and delicate, hiding the best things inside it.”
I bit my bottom lip as my thighs quivered with need.
His attention fell to where he was gently thrumming his finger up and down my labia. “Some flowers react to sunlight and open their petals during the day, exposing all their carpels to the world.” He swiped his finger between my lower lips, making me cry out and jerk from the mattress. “Am I your sunlight, Zoey? Is that why you opened your petals?”
I didn’t respond past a needy whimper, but I don’t think I needed to. He already knew the answer. He wasn’t just my sunlight; he was my everything.
“This receptive tip here would be the stigma. It catches all the pollen for germination.” He slipped his finger over my clit and rolled it delicately under the pad of his finger. “It’s definitely caught me.”
He massaged the nub relentlessly, focusing on nothing but the circular movement of his touch. My body seemed to compress into that one spot, coiling all feeling there as if waiting for the right moment to release it and zap the sensation back out the ends of my arms and legs.
“Nectar is what attracts the bees who carry off the pollen to other flowers where they get more, but me...if I were a bee, I don’t think I’d be a good pollinator. I think I’d taste one brand of flower and like it so much I’d become addicted. I’d never want to go off to another one ever again.”
After dipping his face, he licked me, right up through the center of my petals, swiping up a mouthful of my nectar. I shrieked and clutched the blankets under me, my thighs quivering and chest heaving while the hard tips of my nipples burned for the same attention.
Lifting his face to look up at me, he groaned. “God, yes. That’s the flavor, right there. That’s what would keep me coming back for more, every time.”
Which is exactly what he did. His tongue went back for more, working faster, making his strokes longer, and applying pressure harder until I was squirming under him, grabbing handfuls of his hair, and whimpering completely incoherent words. It was so much more than I ever thought this could possibly be, and yet something seemed to be missing, like I needed—
As his tongue continued to lavish ceaselessly, his finger went lower, circled the damp rim of my sex and then pushed inside.
I cried out. The muscles inside me greedily contracted around his fingers before the tightening in my womb went crazy. I didn’t know how to control it; there was no way to control what happened next. I choked out the most embarrassing sound, and yet I didn’t care. I was freaking flying. My body went haywire in the best way possible and Quinn, the source of it, just kept feeding the explosion with his mouth and fingers.
By the time I settled down, I was limp and exhausted, yet exhilarated and at peace, satisfied in a way that boggled my mind.
Quinn took his mouth off me and slid his finger free. I whimpered from the loss, but I still felt too good to really care. When he sat up and our gazes met, he looked a little feverish, his eyes desperate and his skin slick with sweat.
Feeling as if I’d taken on all his alcohol, I offered him a drunken smile. “Whoa,” was all I could think to say.
He laughed, and his flushed face crinkled with genuine pleasure. “I wish I could take a picture of your smile right now.” He reached out to unstick a sweat-clogged piece of hair from my cheek. “I want to memorize it and carry it around with me always.”
