The Taste of Her
LILIANA’S POV
The second his words—are you ready?—left his lips, my body went molten. My thighs trembled under the weight of his stare, the hunger blazing in his eyes sending shivers through me that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the fire he set inside me.
My mouth went dry, but my head dipped anyway, the faintest nod, surrendering to him like I always seemed to do. My heart thundered, a frantic drumbeat echoing in my chest as I whispered, “Yes.”
That was all he needed.
Ronny’s hands slid down, strong and unyielding, curling around the waistband of my panties. The slow, deliberate way he tugged them down my legs nearly broke me. The soft scrape of fabric against my skin left me hyperaware of every inch of me, exposed under his gaze. He dragged the thin lace lower, lower, until it slipped past my knees, then my ankles, leaving me completely bare for him.
He held them in his hand for a beat, his chest rising and falling hard as his eyes stayed locked on mine. And then, without a word, he lifted them to his face.
My breath caught.
He inhaled, deep, his eyes falling shut as a low, guttural groan rumbled in his chest. The sound—raw, primal—sent heat racing through me so fierce I thought I might combust. My cheeks burned as he dragged the delicate fabric against his nose, savoring me like I was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever tasted.
When his eyes opened again, they were darker than I’d ever seen them.
“Sweetest thing I’ve ever had on me,” he rasped, his voice so rough it scraped against my skin like sandpaper. Then he let the panties fall from his hand, forgotten on the floor, before lowering his head between my thighs.
A shocked gasp tore from my throat when his lips pressed the softest kiss to the inside of my thigh. Then another, lower this time, heat searing into my flesh with every brush of his mouth. He wasn’t rushing. He was savoring. Worshipping.
And then—he was there.
His lips touched me, right where I ached most. A sharp cry broke free before I could stop it, my hips jerking against his mouth. His tongue flicked across my clit in one teasing stroke, and I swore the world tilted. My fists clenched the sheets, my body strung tight, begging, needing.
“Ronny—” My voice was a plea, a broken sound I couldn’t disguise.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His mouth was already on me again, this time rougher, hungrier. His tongue flattened against me, dragging slow and deep before he latched onto my clit, sucking hard.
“Ahhh—oh God—” My back arched violently, the pleasure so sharp it was almost pain. The scrape of his teeth, the gentle bite, sent shocks through me, making me tremble uncontrollably.
And then his tongue was everywhere. Pushing into me, plunging inside my aching pussy in relentless strokes that made me thrash against the sheets. He groaned into me, the sound vibrating against my sensitive flesh, making the heat climb higher, unbearable.
“Please—please don’t stop,” I whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from the sheer intensity of it. “Yes, Ronny—God, yes!”
But gentle wasn’t what he gave me.
He devoured me. His tongue dipped inside me, wild and reckless, while his nose pressed against my clit, dragging shocks of sensation through me so fast I couldn’t catch my breath. He pulled back just long enough to spit against me, the obscene wet sound making my cheeks flame. Then his mouth sealed over me again, sucking harder, hungrier, until I was writhing, a desperate mess under him.
My thighs tried to clamp around his head, but his hands held me apart, firm, unyielding, forcing me to take every lick, every plunge of his tongue. His thumb rubbed rough circles over my clit in rhythm with his tongue fucking me, the combination so brutal, so perfect, I thought I might shatter apart completely.
I screamed his name, my voice breaking. “Ronny—oh God, Ronny—please—please—”
“Take it,” he growled against me, the vibrations sending me spiraling. “Take every fucking thing I give you.”
The pleasure ripped through me like a storm breaking. My orgasm hit hard and fast, a violent crash that made me cry out until my throat was raw. My entire body shook as I came undone against his tongue, my hips jerking, grinding helplessly against his mouth as wave after wave rolled through me.
He groaned, drinking me in, his tongue still working me, pulling every drop of pleasure, every twitch, every broken moan from my body until I was limp, trembling, drenched in sweat.
When I finally managed to peel my eyes open, he was crawling back up my body. His face glistened with me, his lips swollen and wet. And the way he looked at me—dark, hungry, intent—made my breath stall in my chest.
He hovered over me, his weight braced on his arms, his gaze locked on mine like I was the only thing that had ever mattered. My chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths, my green eyes hazy and half-lidded from the high.
And then—his voice. Low. Rough. Trembling with something more than lust.
“Liliana, I… I—”
But before he could finish, the shrill sound of his phone cut through the air.
The ring shattered the moment, slicing through the haze like a blade. My heart still thundered, but now it was tangled with something else. Confusion. Dread. What had he been about to say?
His eyes flickered with something I couldn’t read, something buried deep, before he pulled back slightly, jaw tight as the phone kept ringing between us.
And I couldn’t help but wonder—what did he want to tell me?
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