Chapter Eleven #2
His lips, warm and wet, pressed into my arch, and his tongue licked up, hot and slow, to my blue-painted toes.
I gasped, every nerve new, every sensation too bright. It was such an unexpected intimacy—his mouth on my foot, his green eyes locked on mine with an expression of pure devotion.
Each flick of his tongue sent shivers through me, and I had to grip the counter to steady myself.
As he worshipped me, Adrian’s gaze drifted up my body, dark and hungry, stealing my breath for his collection.
"Oh," I breathed, shocked by how sensitive I was there, how the gentle scrape of his teeth against my instep sent shivers up my leg.
"Like that?" he murmured against my skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my ankle. "Just wait, angel. I'm only getting started."
He switched feet, biting my instep, sucking at soft skin. “You have the filthiest little thoughts, don’t you?” he teased, voice rough as he continued sending fire through my body.
“Cute feet, angel, but these thighs?” He braced his hands on my knees, pushing them apart again. “These are mine. All of this perfection is mine to bite up, mine to bruise up.”
His mouth traveled higher, licking up my calves to my thighs. He bit as he went, marking, and it made me want to cry out his name.
“You think anyone else could handle this?” He glanced up, grinning.
“Nah. Nobody gets to see this. You’re mine now. You played my games, wore my ribbon, and got hunted like a good angel. There’s no escaping me. Not now, not ever.”
The words made something inside me sparkle. I’d never been this open, wrung out, almost fevered with the thrill of surrender.
My mind sputtered—where had this Isla been all my life, what else am I, what else will I crave of him?
His mouth moved higher, teeth grazing the inside of my thigh, and I whimpered, trying to close my legs. Adrian's grip tightened, holding me open.
His jaw flexed as he took in the white lace between my thighs. “You trying to hide from me, angel?” The words vibrated low, dangerous—a caress and a warning.
I shook my head, not trusting myself with words, not when I was already trembling, soaking, ruined before he’d even touched me where I needed him.
He caught my chin in his hand, fingers rough but careful, thumb sweeping over the curve of my throat, pressing enough to make my pulse skitter.
“This right here…” His grip tightened. “You know this is mine now, don’t you? I could spend forever like this, just watching you breathe for me.”
He released me, but not fully, hands sliding up my thighs.
“Nobody’s going to save you from me,” Adrian whispered, voice hot with delight. “You’ll never want out of my trap, you’ll only want to see how deep it goes.”
His mouth found the inside of my thigh, marking up my pale skin.
“Keep them open, Isla. If you close your legs again, I’ll tie your ankles to this counter and keep you here until you forget what standing up feels like.”
The threat was wild, mad, obsessed. I wasn’t scared. I was so desperate for him, I could’ve cried. My whole body throbbed for his mouth, his hands, the beautiful pressure at my throat.
His lips marked a wet line higher, over the white edge of my panties.
Suddenly, his hand slid up over my body, covering my throat again, thumb tracing the ribbon’s silk.
“You wore this for me,” he whispered, the heat of his breath a furnace.
“All the little games, the tasks. You knew you were being hunted; you like being prey. My pretty angel, running circles and ending up in my jaws. ”
Yes . Always yes. I twisted beneath his grip, aching, needy in every cell. I felt hungry, helpless, greedy for the madman who made me feel this... everything.
I was at his mercy, by my own choosing.
He dropped a kiss on my inner thigh and tightened his fingers at my throat. The pressure was new but delicious, and I arched into him.
“Love this throat,” he muttered, half to himself. “I could hold it all fucking night. Could feel you pant, moan, choke on my name, and never get tired.”
He pressed, thumb and fingers wrapped perfectly, just enough that every heartbeat went straight to my core, making me wetter and more untethered.
He moved fast—a flash of ink as he snatched the neckline of my dress and yanked it down.
“Fucking look at these,” he growled.
The lace cups of my bra did nothing to hide the fullness of my breasts.
Adrian’s gaze was practically feral, the way he reached, cupped, and squeezed. Big, calloused hands warming me through the too-thin fabric.
“You’re the reason men lose hearts and start wars, angel.” His words came out half-praise, half-possession, all pride.
He shoved the cups down, freeing me fully. Cool air kissed my skin, and my nipples pebbled hard. When he groaned at the sight, a needy blush burned up my throat.
“Pretty pink nipples,” he purred, brushing his thumbs over the stiff peaks. “You ever begged for this before? Anyone ever handled you like prey caught in their clutches?”
Of course not—but before I could answer, his mouth covered one nipple, heat, hunger, and worship all at once.
He ran his tongue around the tip, sucked hard, then bit, not cruel, but definitely sharp enough to make a cry leap out of me.
Adrian instantly pulled back, eyes darting up, checking.
“Too much?” His voice did that thing, wavered between menace and concern, the kind that made me feel like I mattered more than oxygen.
I shook my head, everything in me straining under his hands. “No, it's good. Don’t stop.”
I was embarrassed by how desperate the words sounded, how much I loved giving him that power.
“Yeah?” "His smirk was slow and dark. “You like it when I’m rough?” He gave my breast another nip, then soothed the sting with his tongue, humming when I shivered.
“That’s it, let me hear those sounds. I’m gonna make your throat just as raw screaming my name.”
He moved to my other breast, mouth hot and wet, tongue swirling just enough for my toes to curl. Each scrape of his teeth was a taunt.
He squeezed my flesh with both hands, rolling my nipples between slippery fingers, pressing harder until my breath turned keening and needy.
I ached with every motion, hips rolling up, wanting friction, greedy for anything he’d give.
His hand skated higher, fingers tracing the seam of my panties, rough, inked knuckles dragging a shiver through my core.
“So desperate already.” His thumb pressed down, just the barest pressure, right where the heat pulsed hottest.
And then his other hand slid up and locked around the base of my throat again. Not just holding—possessing.
My pulse thumped against his thumb, throbbing for him.
Adrian’s eyes flashed darkly, a dangerous kind of joy. He traced the edges of my panties, his other hand locked around my throat, eyes tracking the dampness and shiver.
So slowly, he dragged the fabric aside, finally baring me to the open air and his wild, focused stare.
“So wet for me,” he murmured, voice wrecked and thick. “Fuck, Isla. You were made for this.”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. I’d never been so open until this very moment for him. My hips tipped up shamelessly .
His finger stroked lightly, then teased my entrance, testing how easily I’d take him.
A moan tingled up my throat, and reflex begged me to swallow it down, but Adrian’s grip at my throat tightened. He wanted it.
“Let it out,” he ordered, eyes pinning me.
I still hesitated, just for a second, and his other hand slid down—a quick, purposeful slap right to my clit. A cry shocked out of me.
“No hiding your sounds now. Don’t give me a reason to really get creative.”
I broke, whimpering, hips jerking with the sting, but the look he gave me, like he’d just tuned me perfectly, only made my need worse.
I wanted more, craved more, craved him holding me right on the edge.
Finally, his mouth descended, and he licked a slow, soft flick up to my clit.
I knocked my head back in bliss, thighs spreading wider for more.
His hand found my breast again, pinching my nipples while his other never let go of my throat.
He squeezed harder every time my sounds faltered or I inched away, forcing me to give him everything he wanted.
He worshipped me like I’d never been before.
Each time my sounds faded, he flexed his grip on my neck, reminding me, guiding me, moaning for me, forcing breath and sound together until I was nothing but music he played.
When I let out a full, needy moan, he hummed approval against my clit, heat rolling off him.
My orgasm built quickly, belly coiling tight. My thighs shook and tried to close, but his teeth bit down on my inner thigh.
I gasped, all my senses heightened as the pain mixed with the feeling of his mouth on my clit.
“Sit still. Don’t make me tie you down. You’re not leaving this trap.”
He pressed two fingers to my entrance, circling, and then slid them inside, filling me completely .
Every word vanished from my head. His fingers curled inside me, his tongue working my clit, and I was a moaning mess.
The pressure at my throat kept me hovering, the edge sharp and bright, building, building, nowhere for the pleasure to go but through my voice, out into the world.
I locked eyes with him, and he slowed, just enough for the focus on his face to burn through me.
“Let me hear you break,” he rasped. “Let everyone know who fucking owns you now.”
I shattered for him, open and sobbing. My orgasm crashed through me, pleasure torn wide and deep.
Adrian ate every sound, every drop; he worshipped me through every pulse, fingers never stopping, mouth never relenting until I was trembling, tears streaming down my face from the sheer force of everything he’d drawn out of me.
Only when my body trembled, oversensitive, did he lift his head. He let go of my throat last, thumb tracing soft circles along my jaw, his gaze burning with the power of what we’d just done.
He rose, eyes burning, lips swollen, face so proud I wanted to cry.
He cradled my face, words breaking through ragged breaths. “You’re not leaving this counter till you understand all of this is mine. Every part, every sound, every fucking breath is mine now. Got it?”
I knew I’d never wanted anything more, never needed someone more than I needed Adrian holding me exactly like this, anchoring me to the world while he undid every rule I’d ever lived by.
I nodded, breathless, lips bitten open by ecstasy, skin marked with every place he’d claimed me.
I wanted to beg for more, for everything, for Adrian and the darkness he let me love. I’d never been more certain or more undone.
“Got it,” I whispered, already greedy for the next wave, the next touch, the next thing he’d make me feel.
I was starving for the man who hunted me, who made being trapped the only place I’d ever want to live.