He only circled, gathering wetness, stroking the swollen bud of her clit with the pad of one finger in lazy, deliberate passes.
Misha’s breath hitched. Her hips lifted into the touch, seeking more.
Kane kept the rhythm unhurried.
He returned his mouth to her breast, sucking gently while his fingers worked her open.
The dual sensation made her moan again, longer this time.
Her hands moved from his shoulders to his hair, fingers threading through the red strands and holding on as if the contact grounded her.
"Kane—"
"Slow," he murmured against her skin.
"I said slow."
He meant it.
Even as his cock pressed hard and heavy against the inside of his trousers, even as the scent of her arousal rose between them, he did not rush.
He slipped one finger inside her, carefully, feeling the tight heat of her body close around the intrusion.
She was wet enough that it slid in easily, but he still moved with care, curling the finger just so, stroking the front wall in a rhythm while his thumb continued its slow circles over her clit.
Misha’s thighs trembled.
Her golden eyes fluttered shut, then opened again, locking on his face as if she needed to see him while he touched her.
The marriage of convenience, the other women, the scent of her mother on his skin, none of it mattered in this moment.
Only the careful way he was opening her, the pressure of his mouth on her breast, the low sound of approval he made when her body clenched around his finger.
He added a second finger.
The stretch made her gasp.
Kane paused, letting her adjust, kissing the underside of her breast while he waited.
"Go... on."
When her hips began to rock again, seeking the friction, he resumed the slow thrust and curl.
His free hand braced beside her head, the bulk of his body sheltering her without crushing.
The red hair of his head brushed her collarbone as he moved between her breasts, giving each equal, lingering attention.
Misha’s moans grew softer, more continuous. Her pussy was thoroughly slick now, the wet sounds of his fingers moving inside her quiet but unmistakable in the still chamber.
Kane felt the first flutter of her approaching orgasm and eased the pressure just enough to keep her on the edge without tipping her over. He wanted her open. Soft. Ready.
When he finally withdrew his fingers, she made a small sound of loss.
Kane didn’t reach for his trousers.
Instead he shifted lower, sliding down the length of her body until his broad shoulders settled between her thighs.
He gently pushed her knees farther apart, opening her fully to the air and to his gaze.
"...Wait."
The pink folds of her pussy glistened, swollen and flushed from his careful fingers. The delicate inner lips were already parted, the little bud of her clit standing proud and wet.
Kane lowered his head and breathed her in first, warm, intimate, the clean scent of her arousal mixed with the faint salt of her skin.
Then he pressed his mouth to her.
The first long, slow lick dragged from the tight entrance of her body all the way up through the valley of her folds to the swollen peak of her clit.
Her taste bloomed across his tongue at once: mild and faintly sweet, with a deeper, musky richness that was purely her.
Not sharp, not bitter, just the living flavor of a woman already open and wanting.
The wetness coating her was slick and warm, coating his lips as he licked again, slower this time, mapping every soft contour.
Misha’s breath left her in a trembling exhale. Her hands found his hair again, fingers tightening as his tongue returned to the sensitive inner lips, tracing their delicate edges with the flat of it.
The tissue there was incredibly smooth, velvet-smooth, almost fragile under the careful pressure of his mouth.
He sealed his lips around one side and sucked gently, drawing the plush flesh into his mouth, savoring the way it yielded.
Then he switched to the other side, giving it the same lingering attention until her hips twitched upward against his face.
He settled more firmly between her thighs, one arm hooked beneath her left leg so he could hold her open without effort. His tongue delved deeper, sliding into the entrance of her pussy in a slow, deliberate thrust that mimicked what his fingers had done.
The inner walls were even softer, hot, silken, clinging to the intrusion of his tongue as he licked inside her.
Her taste intensified there, richer, the wetness thicker and more concentrated. Kane hummed low in his throat at the flavor, the vibration traveling straight into her.
He fucked her with his tongue for several long strokes, curling it against the front wall the way his finger had, before withdrawing to lavish attention on her clit once more.
He circled the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue, light at first, then firmer, then light again.
When her breath hitched, he closed his lips around it and sucked in careful pulses, alternating the suction with flicks that made her thighs tremble against his shoulders.
The softness of her there was almost overwhelming, plush, responsive, the little hood sliding easily under his tongue as he worked it back to expose the most sensitive point.
Every few moments he would pause to lick lower again, gathering more of her wetness, tasting the fresh rush of arousal that answered every suck and stroke.
Misha’s moans had gone quiet and continuous, broken only by soft gasps when he found a particularly sensitive spot.
Kane took his time.
He licked the crease where her thigh met her body, tasting the faint salt of her skin there before returning to the center. He spread her open with his thumbs, exposing every glistening fold, and dragged the flat of his tongue over all of it in broad, unhurried strokes.
The wet sounds of his mouth on her filled the chamber, intimate, unashamed. Her taste coated his lips, his chin, the inside of his mouth; he swallowed it without hesitation, chasing more.