Chapter Twelve
Adrian
H eaven. That’s what it was. The taste of her, my face buried between her thighs, the way she broke and clung.
Every sound from those lips was a small, desperate masterpiece.
I’d never been so fucking obsessed with anything in my life. I could’ve stayed there forever, my tongue buried in her sweetness, hands gripping her hips, her breathy moans echoing in my skull like a song I never wanted to end.
I lived for her now. I wanted to mark her up everywhere until dark blue and purple competed with the pale silk carrying my name.
But when I finally rose, licking her taste from my lips, I was so hard I could barely think. My cock ached in my jeans, throbbing with the need to bury myself inside her.
Still, I held myself back, gritting through the need.
I wouldn’t ruin this by rushing. She wouldn’t ever be just a victory to mount on my wall. I wanted her to beg, to feel safe before she let me destroy her all over again .
My Isla was still dazed, draped over the counter, limp with aftershocks. My ribbon was askew and damp. She looked annihilated, and so fucking pretty.
I thumbed her thigh, pressing into her sensitive skin, memorizing her little shudders.
“You okay, angel?” My voice was a scrape of sandpaper.
Her pretty blue eyes fluttered open, bright and lost. “That was—Adrian, I?—”
She broke off, cheeks flushed, lips parted. She looked at me like I’d remade the sky.
I grinned, cocky and a little mean, tracing her jaw with my thumb. “Yeah, I know. Didn’t even have to hack your phone to figure that out.”
She glanced down, her gaze catching on the bulge in my jeans, and her breath audibly hitched. Her hand moved, hesitantly at first, as she pressed her palm over me, slow and curious.
I hissed, hips jerking. Fuck, yes .
“Can I?” It came out fragile, hot, whisper-urgent.
Fucking God. I’d never wanted anything more. I almost lost it right there.
“Yeah, angel. But not here.”
My arms went under her, scooping her up. She squeaked, giggling, hooking her arms around my neck, burrowing against my jaw as I made my way to her couch.
I set her down easy, more careful than I handle my flamethrower and just as proud.
I loomed over her, combing through her blonde waves with slow, deft fingers.
She reached for my belt, fumbling, nervous, lips pressed together like she was waiting for instructions.
I helped her, popping the button, unzipping, and dragging my jeans and boxers low enough to free my cock.
It sprang free, big, thick, and flushed, the tip already leaking. I watched her face go slack with awe, and fuck if that didn’t make me harder.
She bit her lip. “I’m… not very good at this.”
My heart twisted, a tight, hot pride for being able to teach her. I cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at me.
“You don’t have to be good. I just want you, Isla. Only you.”
She nodded, swallowing hard, and wrapped a hand around my length.
The first touch was gentle, but I groaned anyway. The sight of her little artist fingers on my cock was almost enough to end me.
She stroked me slowly, eyes flicking up to mine for reassurance.
“Good girl,” I praised, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’ve got me, angel. Fuck, you’ve got my cock right there in those hands.”
Her cheeks flamed, her blue gaze darting up through her lashes, innocent and dirty at once. Tentatively, her lips parted, and she took my head into her mouth.
I nearly bucked, barely keeping myself anchored by a death grip on her couch.
She went slow, swirling her tongue, not trying to impress. Just learning me, loving me—so raw and soft I almost came on the spot.
Her mouth was heaven-warm and wet as she took me in, inch by inch. “Good angel,” I growled, thumb brushing along her jaw, feeling her cheeks hollow.
Her mouth stretched tight around me, that little ribbon with my name against her throat burning itself into every dirty corner of my brain.
My fingers tangled in her hair, not pulling yet, just stroking, guiding. “You’re doing perfect. Keep going.”
She bobbed too quickly, teeth scraping once, and I bit off a hiss—not in pain, in pure bliss .
“Slower,” I ordered, unlacing the ribbon and wrapping it around my wrist, using it to gently guide her pace. She gasped, the vibration humming down my cock, her lips slick and wet and perfect .
“Now suck.”
She sucked. My free hand cupped her cheek, thumb drifting over her skin. “ Yes ,” I praised, tone gone rough and pleasured.
Her eyes shone, hands sliding up my abs, tracing the lines of my tattoos, the ink she’d spent hours watching through a screen. She brushed over chains at my hip, and I shuddered, grinning.
“You like those? Make me come and I’ll introduce you to each one.”
She obeyed eagerly, and with the ribbon wound around my fist, I squeezed her throat, just enough to feel her swallow, feel her surrender.
“So pretty with my cock and my mark all at once,” I muttered, hips rocking, her mouth taking more now, growing bolder, filthier with each pass.
With the filthy, wet sounds of her mouth on me, I could feel my control slipping, the coil in my gut tightening.
“Angel, I’m gonna come. You’ll swallow it all, yeah?” I tugged the ribbon, half-warning, half-plea.
She nodded, mouth still full, eyes shining as she braced herself and took me deep.
Fuck, this girl had me. Her eyes met mine, dark and willing, and I lost it. My hips jerked as I spilled down her throat.
She swallowed greedily, tears shimmering on her lashes, and my jaw clenched at the sight of it.
When I came back to myself, breathing and lowering myself beside her on the couch, she curled into my chest, the ribbon still looped loosely around her throat.
I bent lazily, tasting the salt and faint sweetness of her throat, dragging my tongue along the embroidery. “You’re mine.”
She nodded, forehead pressed to my heart, her body lax with satisfaction and relief. “I want to be yours.”
I kissed her, deep and claiming, tasting myself on her tongue. “Next time,” I promised, “you’re gonna run from me when I’m finished with you. And you’ll beg to be caught.”
Her laugh was shaky and euphoric, nothing but happy. “Promise? ”
I nipped her earlobe, grinning because I could, because this was my fucking girl now.
“Oh, angel. That was a threat, not a promise.”