Chapter Sixteen #3
My skin heats under the attention.
I start to make some smart-ass comment, mostly because apparently that’s what I do when a man looks at me like he wants to fucking devour me.
Draygon’s hand catches my chin first.
“Don’t.”
His mouth covers mine again before I can argue, then starts working lower.
My jaw and throat.
The center of my chest.
He takes his time, dropping kisses over my skin as he sinks down in front of me, hands sliding along my hips until his fingers catch the waistband of my black leggings.
My breath catches when he looks up at me.
Dark hair falling across his forehead. Tattoos covering his arms. Those deep brown eyes locked onto mine from his knees like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
Fuck.
He slowly works the leggings down my thighs, kissing every new inch of skin he exposes along the way.
I brace one hand against the wall while he taps my ankle, helping me step free of one leg and then the other. My white sneakers follow, tossed somewhere beside the bed without either of us giving a shit where they land.
Then he settles back on his knees, and just looks at me.
The kind of look that makes my thighs press together without permission.
“Draygon.”
His hands slide up the backs of my legs, steady and warm, stopping at my hips and he leans in.
His eyes holding mine as he flattens his tongue, and runs it over the thin fabric of my panties, slow enough that my entire body reacts.
A shudder tears through me and my head falls back against the wall.
There.
That quiet little sound he makes tells me he felt it.
He pays attention to everything. Every breath and twitch.
Every time my fingers tighten against his shoulder.
There’s something almost unfair about the patience of it. He touches me like he has nowhere else to be, like figuring out exactly what makes me lose control is the only thing that matters right now.
His tongue presses harder, flattening against the damp cotton, and I feel the heat of his breath seeping through, teasing the swollen lips beneath.
“You’re already soaked for me,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, each word a promise.
I arch into his touch, a whimper escaping my lips as his tongue finds the seam of my panties and begins to trace slow, deliberate circles.
The fabric stretches, then gives, and he slips it aside with a deliberate tug, exposing me to the cool air of the room.
“Look at you,” he whispers, his gaze locked on my opening, “so fucking pretty and wet, just waiting for my mouth.”
He lowers his head, and the first hot stroke of his tongue laps over my clit, firm and unhurried. I gasp, my hips jerking upward, and his hands slide up my thighs to grip my hips, holding me steady.
“Oh god,” I moan softly.
His tongue is a worshipful instrument—flat, broad, sweeping across my folds, then narrowing to flicker against the sensitive nub that makes my breath hitch.
“Fuck, you taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he growls, voice thick with lust. Each lap is accompanied by a filthy whisper, his words dripping over my skin like honey.
I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull him closer.
Apparently patience is no longer something I’m interested in.
Draygon doesn’t seem bothered by that.
If anything, the quiet sound he makes against me says the opposite.
Oh shit.
My head knocks back against the wall as another wave of heat rolls through me, and whatever smart-ass comment I was about to make dies before it reaches my mouth.
He’s way too fucking good at this.
Whats worse, is he knows it.
One hand tightens in his hair while the other braces against the wall beside me, my breathing getting more uneven every time he finds another way to make my legs feel useless.
“Asshole,” I manage.
I feel his smile.
Cocky fucking bastard.
“You like that?” he asks, his voice a rasp against my skin. “You love feeling my tongue stretch you open, tasting every inch of you?” All I manage is a broken sound that I’m absolutely going to deny ever making if he brings it up later.
He pulls back just enough to glance up, his eyes dark with admiration.
In one fluid, hungry motion, he pulls my panties completely aside and plunges his tongue deep, fucking me with his mouth, faster this time, and the second he changes pace, my whole body jerks.
Holy hell.
So much for pretending I’ve got any control left.
My fingers tighten in his hair, and one of my knees nearly gives out against the wall.
Embarrassing.
Hot, but embarrassing.
“Fuck. So fucking responsive,” he growls,
Draygon looks up just long enough to see exactly what he’s doing to me, and that tiny shift in his expression makes me want to kick him.
Or drag him closer.
Probably both.
Then he goes right back to it.
“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “I can feel every ripple, every pulse… you’re gripping my tongue like you never want to let go.”
I’m trembling, my nails digging into his shoulders, my breath coming in ragged bursts.
The pleasure coils tighter, a sweet pressure building low in my belly. He senses it, his movements becoming even more deliberate, his tongue swirling around my clit in tight, hungry circles while his lips suckle the slick entrance.
“You going to cum for me, pretty girl?” he asks, voice low and fierce. “Let me feel you come apart on my tongue.”
His filthy fucking mouth pushes me over the edge.
A choked cry tears from me as my orgasm crashes over me. Waves of heat radiating outward, my pussy clenching around him.
“Oh fuck—Draygon—”
He doesn’t stop, continuing to lap and suck through my aftershocks, prolonging the ecstasy until I’m a trembling mess, begging for more.
“Fuck—Thats it. So fucking pretty,”
He finally lifts his head, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches me pant, my chest heaving. “You taste fucking delicious,” he says, voice rough with admiration. “But I’m not done with you yet,”
He stands, his body pressing against mine, grinding against me and I feel the weight of his cock—hard, and thick, through his jeans.
The feeling alone earns him a soft whimper from me, and he smirks.
His hands slide down to my ass, gripping as he lifts me up, wrapping my legs around him and carrying me to the bed.
He lays me back against the bed, then straightens, his eyes raking over every inch of my exposed body.
I watch him as the buckle of his belt hits the floor with a soft clink, followed by the rustle of denim sliding down his thighs.
My mouth actually falls open.