The room was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of golden candlelight. She lay beneath him, bathed in warmth and golden light, her body stretched out like a goddess who knew she was about to be adored. He took his time watching her, admiring her like a masterpiece. He started at her hand—lifting it gently, kissing each fingertip as if they were precious petals. Her nails, painted neat and delicate, brushed against his cheek as he lingered at each knuckle, warm lips pressing into her skin like promises.
He reached for her face with reverent hands. Brushed her hair gently from her eyes, then leaned in… and kissed her eyelids. One, then the other. Feather-light. Her lashes fluttered under his lips, and a soft sigh escaped her. He kissed her cheek letting his lips press into her skin with quiet warmth.
He exhaled against her ear lobe, then kissed just beneath it, letting his lips linger before whispering, “You’re my queen” His wet lips rubbed over her neck—slow, hot kisses placed just below her ear. He kissed along her jawline, then down to the curve of her throat. Her breath hitched as his lips explored the space where her shoulder met her neck. She tilted her head, giving him more. Inviting him closer. And he whispered, “You’re everything.”
He kissed lower now—over her collarbone, down to her chest. The valley between her breasts. He paused at her breasts, admiring their soft fullness, the way her nipples had already hardened. He licked one gently before taking it fully into his mouth, his tongue swirling, his lips sucking slow, with care. One hand played with the other nipple, rolling it softly. She moaned, her body shifting beneath him, but still trusting.
Then, without a word, he kissed lower—down the middle of her chest, the soft dip of her ribs, until he reached the curve of her waist. He didn’t rush. He let his lips feel her body, kissing across her belly, to the outer edge of her waist, slowly circling her like he was sculpting pleasure from the air itself. Her skin trembled beneath his mouth.
She sighed his name—soft, needy.
He traced down her body, pausing to kiss the curve of her waist, the dip of her hip, the soft skin of her inner thigh. Her breath hitched as her legs parted naturally, a silent surrender. She was already glistening with need, her body so responsive, so ready.
And then—he looked up at her once more, and whispered, “Let me worship you.”
He knelt between her thighs, spread her slowly, and pressed his lips to her wet, warm flower.
And then—he paused.
He shifted lower… to her feet.
He lifted one, cradling it like something sacred, kissed slowly, moving from her ankle to her heel, then over the soft top, then finally, each toe—tender, delicate kisses that made her heart pound. When he placed her feet back down, spreading her legs slightly wider, she was already soaked—her need pulsing, her body open and begging.
And then his mouth met her.
He parted her slowly, reverently, as if unfolding a delicate flower.
His tongue moved with patience, with devotion. Up and down on through the folds. Around her clit. Gentle sucks. Slow flicks. His hands held her thighs, grounding her, keeping her safe. He licked her with devotion, slow and deep, like worship. Every stroke of his tongue was measured, reverent, sending waves of heat through her body. He kissed her like she was sacred, flicking over her clit with practiced care, circling, pressing, tasting every drop she gave him.
Long, deliberate strokes. Slow, worshipful circles. His tongue moved like he was reading a language only her body could speak. She gasped, hips lifting. He pressed a hand to her lower belly, the other sliding up her chest to feel the quick thump of her heartbeat. With every flick of his tongue, every gentle suck, her body responded like an instrument being played with love and skill. He wanted to see her lose herself, to watch her melt into the sheets. “That’s it,” he murmured between strokes, “Give it to me. Let go.”
She cried out as the flood came—deep, raw, wet crashing over her, her body shaking under the intensity, . He drank it in like it was meant only for him. Without loosing a single drop he got flooded in his mouth, for a moment he lost his breath and chocked.
And when she was trembling, spent, and glowing with satisfaction, he climbed up to her, kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. Then he looked into her eyes and said with full honesty,
“You’re my queen, and I will never stop worshipping you.”
He reached for her face with reverent hands. Brushed her hair gently from her eyes, then leaned in… and kissed her eyelids. One, then the other. Feather-light. Her lashes fluttered under his lips, and a soft sigh escaped her. He kissed her cheek letting his lips press into her skin with quiet warmth.
He exhaled against her ear lobe, then kissed just beneath it, letting his lips linger before whispering, “You’re my queen” His wet lips rubbed over her neck—slow, hot kisses placed just below her ear. He kissed along her jawline, then down to the curve of her throat. Her breath hitched as his lips explored the space where her shoulder met her neck. She tilted her head, giving him more. Inviting him closer. And he whispered, “You’re everything.”
He kissed lower now—over her collarbone, down to her chest. The valley between her breasts. He paused at her breasts, admiring their soft fullness, the way her nipples had already hardened. He licked one gently before taking it fully into his mouth, his tongue swirling, his lips sucking slow, with care. One hand played with the other nipple, rolling it softly. She moaned, her body shifting beneath him, but still trusting.
Then, without a word, he kissed lower—down the middle of her chest, the soft dip of her ribs, until he reached the curve of her waist. He didn’t rush. He let his lips feel her body, kissing across her belly, to the outer edge of her waist, slowly circling her like he was sculpting pleasure from the air itself. Her skin trembled beneath his mouth.
She sighed his name—soft, needy.
He traced down her body, pausing to kiss the curve of her waist, the dip of her hip, the soft skin of her inner thigh. Her breath hitched as her legs parted naturally, a silent surrender. She was already glistening with need, her body so responsive, so ready.
And then—he looked up at her once more, and whispered, “Let me worship you.”
He knelt between her thighs, spread her slowly, and pressed his lips to her wet, warm flower.
And then—he paused.
He shifted lower… to her feet.
He lifted one, cradling it like something sacred, kissed slowly, moving from her ankle to her heel, then over the soft top, then finally, each toe—tender, delicate kisses that made her heart pound. When he placed her feet back down, spreading her legs slightly wider, she was already soaked—her need pulsing, her body open and begging.
And then his mouth met her.
He parted her slowly, reverently, as if unfolding a delicate flower.
His tongue moved with patience, with devotion. Up and down on through the folds. Around her clit. Gentle sucks. Slow flicks. His hands held her thighs, grounding her, keeping her safe. He licked her with devotion, slow and deep, like worship. Every stroke of his tongue was measured, reverent, sending waves of heat through her body. He kissed her like she was sacred, flicking over her clit with practiced care, circling, pressing, tasting every drop she gave him.
Long, deliberate strokes. Slow, worshipful circles. His tongue moved like he was reading a language only her body could speak. She gasped, hips lifting. He pressed a hand to her lower belly, the other sliding up her chest to feel the quick thump of her heartbeat. With every flick of his tongue, every gentle suck, her body responded like an instrument being played with love and skill. He wanted to see her lose herself, to watch her melt into the sheets. “That’s it,” he murmured between strokes, “Give it to me. Let go.”
She cried out as the flood came—deep, raw, wet crashing over her, her body shaking under the intensity, . He drank it in like it was meant only for him. Without loosing a single drop he got flooded in his mouth, for a moment he lost his breath and chocked.
And when she was trembling, spent, and glowing with satisfaction, he climbed up to her, kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. Then he looked into her eyes and said with full honesty,
“You’re my queen, and I will never stop worshipping you.”
