One Little Question

He was looking at me like I was his fucking queen.

"Phoebe," he whispered, his eyes finally reaching mine. "Is this a dream?"

I almost giggled, but when I opened my mouth, something completely unlike me slipped out instead.

"Come over here and find out," I said, and before I could even process how I'd thought of something like that, Miguel had scrambled to his knees and crawled forward, stopping when he was kneeling at my feet with his neck craned up to look at me.

Without so much as a glance down, he let the fingers of one hand brush against my ankle. When I didn't disappear and he didn't wake up from the dream he thought he might be having, he brought his other hand to the other ankle.

"Princess," he breathed, and then his hands began to move.

His fingertips skimmed along my skin, feather-light and tantalizingly tender as he traced a path up the outside of each of my legs. From ankle to calves, calves to knees, then a slight pause as he twisted his wrists so his fingers were pointed up and he could flatten his palm against my skin. He moved his hands up higher, leaving a scorching path behind as he caressed the outside of my thighs all the way up to my hips.

"Look at you," he said as he slipped his hands beneath the flowy fabric of the babydoll chemise. "Jesus Christ, princess. Was I really so good this year that I get my Christmas gift a week early?"

His fingers reached the waistband of the lacy red thong as he spoke and he traced one fingertip along the silky fabric, dragging it across the band overtop of my belly before flattening his palm again so he could caress my stomach. My breath hitched as he touched me there, as he worshiped that part of me that I'd always stared at with despair, like it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"You think I'm your gift?" I asked.

"You always are and always have been my present, princess. Just like you will always be my future." He kissed my stomach, gripping my sides so he could guide me forward and nuzzle against me as he stared up into my eyes. "There's not another gift in this entire world or this entire lifetime that I want the way I want you, Phoebe."

God, he was good with his mouth.

In more ways than one, I was discovering. He peppered kisses everywhere he could reach on my stomach, above the fabric and along my skin in places the flowing gauzy fabric of the babydoll chemise hung open. And along the front of the lacy red thong, the fabric so insubstantial it felt like he was kissing bare skin there, too. His hands traced my curves, running along my sides and hips, skimming along the exposed skin on my ass and cupping my ass cheeks gently.

He gazed up at me with those dark, deep, filled-entirely-with-love eyes of his for a while, then let them flutter closed as he exhaled a sigh that was full of need. His hands wrapped around me, palms on my ass cheeks to urge my hips forward against his face. He pressed a kiss just below my belly button, then slightly lower, and lower still.

"Do you know how much I've wanted to taste you again?" he murmured, his lips brushing against me.

I wasn't sure if he meant to say it or even for me to hear it, but I made a soft noise in acknowledgement. Miguel's mouth twisted up into a smile that I felt and he kissed my mound again, his lips just above my clit. His next kiss landed on my slit, his nose pressing into my panties. He paused, inhaling deeply, then exhaled with a groan.

"Fucking amazing," he muttered.

One of his hands left my ass, tracing along the leg hole of the thong. The hem of the chemise brushed against his hand, then tangled slightly around his wrist. Patiently, he shook it off, then again a moment later when it did the same thing.

Once that hand reached the front of my panties, he looked up at me again, holding my gaze as he slipped his fingers into the crotch of the thong and slowly—agonizingly slowly—peeled it away from my pussy. My body tingled with electric anticipation, enough that my nipples hardened beneath the lingerie and I was sure Miguel could see them through the fabric.

If he'd been looking, I mean.

He wasn't, though. He was looking into my eyes, even as he bared my pussy just inches from his face. Even once the thong was pushed to the side, he kept his eyes on mine, his expression soothing and calm and earnest.

"Phoebe," he said, and I could feel his words on his breath, brushing against my slick pussy lips. "Princess, you're sure this is what you want?"

I swallowed back the instinctive fears and nodded.

"You're sure?" he pressed. "The worst day of my life was the day I made you uncomfortable, intentional or not. I won't repeat it."

I felt like he was being a little dramatic—I was sure he'd had far worse days, though I could understand why his girlfriend stopping in the middle of sex because she started crying was definitely on the list of bad days—but his passion and consideration were some of the many reasons that I loved him. Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't have stopped the smile that spread across my lips.

"I'm sure," I said, my voice soft but sincere. "I want to at least try, Miguel. But I thought..."

"Thought what?"

I could feel my face turning red. "That, um, you wanted me to... you know. You were lying on the ground."

He smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"I do. But it's only proper to kneel and worship my queen before she takes a seat on her throne."

And oh, God.

Oh God.

He was still smiling when he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine—my pussy lips, that is. I inhaled sharply, but his eyes were full of comfort and devotion and so many good things that I couldn't have felt anything but adored.

With his lips still on my mound, his tongue flicked out, tasting the wetness coating my pussy. I bit my lip as a shiver ran through me, a tremble that radiated from my core up my spine and down my legs, obvious enough that Miguel felt it. He flicked an eyebrow up and I shook my head.

"Keep going," I said breathlessly. "Please."

Another smile. It was such a strange sensation to feel that smile more than I could see it.

But such an amazing one, too.

He looked away from me, glancing down as he traced my folds with his tongue. A moment later, he shifted, pulling the fabric of the thong further away from my slit so he had better access to it. I murmured softly as the tip of his tongue brushed against my clit, enraptured by the sight of him kneeling in front of me.

A few moments after that, he stopped to move the hem of the chemise out of the way. He'd barely resumed licking me when he pulled at the crotch of the thong again, then made a soft, incomprehensible noise.

"This set is beautiful, Phoebe," he said. "Was it expensive?"

"Not overly," I replied, confused. "Liv gave me her discount code."

"Good."

Before I knew what was happening, his hand left my ass and there was a ripping sound. Suddenly, the thong was hanging around my right thigh like some kind of makeshift garter, the left leg hole having been torn in two at the waistband.

"You just ripped my panties off," I gasped.

Miguel looked up, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he tugged the destroyed thong down my thigh so it was out of the way. "You look phenomenal, princess, but I needed better access. Tell Liv to order you another pair."

Then he grabbed my ass again, buried his face against my mound, and started devouring me.

I cried out as Miguel's tongue found my clit, lavishing it with attention as he made out with my pussy.

There was no build up, no teasing, no gentle kisses here and there to get me worked up. There was no need for any of that; between the adrenaline and the nerves and the beautiful words spilling from my boyfriend's mouth, I'd been more than turned on. So instead, Miguel set to work, his mouth making wet sounds as he indulged in something I hadn't been able to give him before that day.

Worship was the word he'd used, and it was the word for it. His hands honoured me and his groans of pleasure were like songs of praise, while his eyes revered me l like I was prized.

Like I was precious.

I moved a shaking hand towards his head, feeling his soft curls beneath my fingertips. One of his wandering hands left its path and found my other hand so he could entwine my fingers in his. Soft noises escaped my mouth as I watched him, my breath quickening as electricity rushed up and down my body.

I was enjoying it. Me. Liking what he was doing so much that when he pulled his mouth away a few minutes later, I was disappointed.

Disappointed.

The last time he'd tried going down on me I'd sobbed, and now I wanted more of it.

Maybe my confidence wasn't where I wanted it to be, but that was progress. That was major fucking progress, and I was going to be proud of it.

"It's time, princess," he said, his face glistening as he sat back on his knees. "I can't wait any longer."

A fresh rush of anxiety worked its way through me, but I shook it away. I could do this.

"Okay," I said. "But only if you're sure you want to do this."

He was on his back on the living room floor, unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt, before I even finished speaking, so I guess that answered that.

Once he'd finished undoing his shirt, he extended his arms towards me.

"Come," he said. "Your throne awaits."

I giggled, though it sounded nervous even to my ears as I pushed the torn thong down my right leg so I could step out of it. But I forced myself to move forward, forced myself to work past the feeling of butterflies in my stomach and approach him, the light fabric of the babydoll chemise brushing against my hips.

"So I just, um..." I cleared my throat. "How do you want me to do this?"

Miguel grinned from the floor. "Usually I'd say however you want, but this first time, I'll tell you how I like it, okay?"

"Okay."

He directed me to put a knee on either side of his head, facing away from the rest of his body, and line my pussy up with his chin. Then, as gracefully as I could, I knelt over him, just able to see the top of his head poking out from between my thighs.

"Perfect," he murmured. "Now lower yourself down, princess."

"How much?"

"As much as you want."

"But I'll crush—"

"You won't crush me. But if I need you to let up a bit, I'll tap you, okay?" He wrapped his arm around my leg so his palm was on the top of my thigh, then patted it against me a few times. "Like this. Just means sit up slightly."

"Okay," I said. "And what do I, um, do?"

"Whatever you want. Stay still. Grind against my tongue. Ride my face." I felt him half-shrug. "Try all of them. The more you experiment, the longer I get to be surrounded by heaven. Now—" he hooked his other arm around my thigh and began pulling me down "—stop teasing me with this beautiful pussy. Take a goddamn seat, Phoebe."

I took a deep breath, let it out, then did it.

He moaned as I did, his arms tightening around me as his tongue slipped between my folds again. For the first bit, I stayed still, getting used to the feeling of his tongue and his mouth, to the sounds and the sensations and the way he was groaning like he was the one getting head, not me. He ate me enthusiastically, his head bobbing as he alternated between lapping at my pussy and sucking on my clit. His tongue dipped inside me, swirling around my entrance and making me shiver.

It felt strange at first. I couldn't deny that. My heart was pounding, thrumming in my chest as I worked to keep my breathing steady. But it wasn't long before my breath was coming faster not because of nerves, but because it was feeling good.

Good enough that I could tell what kinds of things I liked more than others.

Good enough that when Miguel finished sucking on my clit and returned to using his tongue to lap at me, I rolled my hips forward, seeking out even more friction on my clit.

"Right there," I whispered, though I doubted he could hear me given my thighs were on either side of his head. Not to mention the loud groan he let out as soon as I started to move.

One of his hands left my thigh and snaked up the front of my body, finding my breast and cupping it as I worked myself against his tongue. His thumb brushed against my hard nipple through the fabric of the chemise, spiking enough pleasure through me that I let out an actual moan. That earned me another one of Miguel's irresistible noises, plus the sensation of him shifting beneath me so I could grind on his tongue at a better angle.

And it felt amazing.

It felt phenomenal.

It felt like I was an absolute idiot for spending so long not doing this, all because I was nervous about my weight.

But that was the past. Now was the present, and in the future, I wouldn't make the same mistake. In the future, there would be a lot more of this.

In the future, I was going to come on his tongue.

Not that night. As much pleasure as there was soaring through my body, I wasn't there yet. I wasn't quite relaxed enough to give into the sensation of overwhelming feverishness. Not so much because I was nervous, but the multitude of emotions I'd experienced were still sorting themselves out within me.

And that was okay. I'd come a long way in a single night. And I could come a little more, just on his cock or his fingers instead. It would still feel amazing.

When I lifted myself off his face, Miguel gasped for breath, but stretched his neck out so he could look up at me.

"You weren't crushing me," he said.

I stifled a laugh. His eyes were wide and wild, his hair mussed, and his cheeks and chin were positively soaked with my juices.

"I know," I said. "I just don't think I'm going to be able to finish like this."

He frowned. "Something I'm doing?"

"No," I said. "You're amazing. I just want you to... This is going to sound so silly. But I want you to make love to me."

The wildness in his eyes faded as a sweet smile spread across his lips. "Princess, I will always make love to you."

I moved off of him and he sat up, using the sleeve of his dress shirt to wipe the wetness off his face before he reached forward and kissed me.

"You know how I know this isn't a dream?" he said against my lips.

"How?" I asked.

"I couldn't come up with a dream as amazing as this." He nipped at my lower lip. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He undressed quickly, then took a moment to untie the babydoll chemise and gently set it to the side before guiding me onto my back.

"Wait here," he said. "I gotta go get a condom."

I bit my lip. "Or..."

"Phoebe, are you—"

"I'm on the pill. And you can... you know. Pull out."

He studied me, then gently parted my legs and moved between them before leaning forward to kiss me. His cock pressed against my soaked pussy, hot and throbbing and so hard that I thought he must have been in pain.

"This is the best random early Christmas ever," he murmured, and I giggled as he shifted his hips, sliding his cock up and down my slit a few times before reaching down between us. "You're sure?"

"I'm always sure with you," I said.

He smiled, then the tip of his cock was notched in my entrance and we were both sighing as he slid himself inside me.

It wasn't the first time we'd had sex without a condom. Most of the time, we used them, even though my PCOS meant I'd have a hard time if we ever decided to have kids and I took birth control to help with my hormones. We just didn't want to risk it, knowing that neither of us were ready for that. I didn't know if we ever would be. And that was okay. There was still plenty of time to decide if we'd want to be parents one day.

But now and then, we'd throw that one little piece of our excessive amounts of caution to the wind, usually when we were feeling like this; that is, loving and loved. Cherishing and treasured. When telling him I loved him wasn't enough. When having a part of him literally inside me didn't bring us close enough together unless that piece was as naked as we were, his hot and throbbing thickness enveloped by the tight, wet walls of my pussy.

When we were on the floor in the living room, clinging to each other, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree sparkling above us and paper-wrapped boxes tucked underneath it, and I needed him connected to me wholly and completely.

"You are everything to me, Phoebe," he whispered as he moved inside me. "Everything. I never want to let you go."

"I'll never let go," I murmured, and he groaned as he turned his head, burying it against my neck and thrusting deeper.

It didn't take me long to come. I'd been closer than I thought while I was on his face; the feel of his thick cock stretching my pussy as he reached the deepest parts of me was the push I needed to fall over the edge. When I did, I clutched at him, wrapping my legs around his waist as my whole body shook. Pulses of light flashed in my eyes and waves of bliss took over. I'd barely started to come down when Miguel staggered and groaned desperately.

"Gonna," he stammered. "Princess, your legs..."

It wasn't even a decision; the words spilled out of me and I heard them for the first time as he did.

"It's okay," I said. "Come inside me. I promise it's okay."

"Oh, God," he choked. "Are you—"

I assumed the next word was "sure," but he came before he could get it out. I felt his cock twitch as he shoved himself as deep inside me as he could, hot cum spilling out of him as he groaned. I kissed the side of his head and held him close, relishing the feel of him finishing inside me, my mind hazy and satisfied and content beyond words.

We stayed that way for a while, him resting heavily on top of me, our bodies pressed together as we caught our breaths. When he finally shifted and pulled his cock out, I sighed, my eyes still closed as I basked in that fuzzy warm feeling of afterglow.

"I think..." Miguel said, then trailed off.

"Think what?" I asked sleepily.

When he didn't respond, I opened my eyes. He was looking at me, his beautiful dark eyes set with an oddly determined look.

"I think it's only fair if you get an early Christmas present, too," he said.

I laughed, sure I was blushing. "You don't think that counted as a gift for me?"

"No. That was for me and I don't plan on sharing it. I just... I want to." He leaned forward, his body hovering over mine as he reached under the tree and rifled through the presents sitting there. "More than anything, I want to. Right now. Even though..."

He trailed off, his movements stilling for a moment.

"Even though what?" I asked.

He chuckled softly. "Even though you deserve better than this moment. But I can't wait, princess."

A moment later, he withdrew his hand, it was clutched around a small square box wrapped in gold paper. My breath caught in my throat.

"Miguel, I—"

"Open it," he whispered. "Please."

I sat up, completely forgetting I was naked. Completely forgetting he'd just come inside me and it was probably going to get on the carpet. I just sat up, heart racing as I took the small box from him and carefully unwrapped it, taking care not to tear the paper.

I saw the box for all of a second before my vision blurred over with tears. When he took it from me and flipped it open so he could ask that one little question, I couldn't have even said what the ring looked like. But what it looked like didn't matter. It would never matter. It didn't matter that we were both naked, or that we'd have to come up with a far more appropriate story to tell people about how he'd done it.

This was our present and our future.

I loved him, and he loved me, and I said yes.

Despite having to work Sunday, everyone was oddly cheerful when they got to work the next morning.