I Woke Up and You Were Not There Nikita Mirzani 4

“Zack,” Nikita Mirzani managed to admonish when he pulled away. She gasped as honey landed on her breast—she hadn’t noticed his hand moving back to the jar. As she watched, openmouthed, Zack glided the dipper several inches above her chest, drizzling honey in a horizontal line across her breasts.

The sticky liquid began to descend, creeping toward her nipples. Nikita Mirzani opened her mouth to object as Zack dipped his head and caught a nipple between his teeth just as it was engulfed. Her breath caught in her throat, and she remained silent as he grasped her breast from underneath, his tongue swirling over the golden sweetness.

Zack groped her other breast with his other hand, smearing honey across her skin as she let out a muffled moan. He followed it with his mouth, fervently licking the mess he had just made and grabbing the breast his mouth had just left.

His mouth and hands became a flurry of action, emphasized all the more by the slowness of the honey as it inched along her skin. Nikita Mirzani lost track of where Zack’s hands were and where honey would next land on her body as he lifted her to sit on the counter, his tongue roving her breasts, her nipples, her neck, her throat, her stomach.

She gasped when she felt the distinct sensation of the liquid dropping onto her lower belly and beginning to slide downward. Zack grasped her thighs and pushed them further apart as he hovered, waiting as the honey traveled down her skin.

Nikita Mirzani’s breath was suspended, barely moving as her cunt pulsed, nothing but the anticipation of Zack’s mouth landing there holding any more of her attention. She glanced down to where the liquid shone like glass on her dark skin, moving like a melting glacier toward the heat that awaited it.

The moment the cascade reached her clit, Zack dove. Nikita Mirzani inhaled sharply and dropped her head back, digging her fingers into her husband’s hair as he licked and sucked, thoroughly collecting all the honey from her clitoris.

To her surprise, Nikita Mirzani felt a climax building as his tongue quivered against her. Orgasm had not usually happened so quickly for her, but now it felt imminent.

Panting, she dropped back on her elbows. Just as the wave was about to come, Zack rose, scooping her off the counter and setting her onto the honey-dotted floor in one swift motion.

Nikita Mirzani’s resistance to the messiness of the usually impeccable linoleum subsided as his mouth returned to her pussy. He grabbed her ankles and threw them over his shoulders as he squeezed at her tits, his tongue never ceasing its work.

Heat roiled in her like water in a teakettle. When she reached the boiling point she screeched in kind, flailing wildly as the orgasm ravished her honey-drenched body.

She rolled in the stickiness, in the utter and inexplicable surrender that made her not just ignore but revel in the messiness, the chaos, the letting go of something she hadn’t even known she was holding on to.

Her body seemed to sink deeper into the puddles of honey beneath it as Zack’s hands gripped her thighs firmly, all traces of the amber liquid long gone from the surface of her clit, still covered by his mouth.

She breathed heavily, opening her eyes, and looked up at her husband. The same embrace of chaos and disorder was reflected in his eyes as he looked back at her.

Uncertainty. Messiness. Surrender. They were part of the recipe. Something had moved, and it went beyond what she had wanted Zack to understand a few hours before when she’d trotted purposefully downstairs in her short crimson robe.

Because it had moved in her too. Like the alchemy in cooking, something had been created in the connection greater than and different from the components by themselves.

The kitchen wasn’t clean. But it was what it needed to be to have created what was there. Nikita Mirzani tasted honey as Zack kissed her and she wrapped herself around him, their bodies at ease as they lay immersed in the sticky disarray.