Chapter 32
EVANGELINE
“Are you going to let me put my mouth on you?”
His directness soothes all my frayed nerves, his praise lighting me up from the inside and making me feel sexy.
I pull back, releasing him, and gasp for air. “Yes.”
Take me.
Use me.
Just promise you’ll keep me.
My desire for this man knows no bounds. I’m eye level with his thick, swelling cock, and yet I’m still not close enough. The moment I release him, I miss the weight of him against my tongue.
As I scramble to my feet, he grasps my arms, steadying me.
“Easy. It might be slippery,” he warns, tipping his chin at the droplets of water on the floor.
With his hands on my shoulders, he turns me around and guides me so I’m standing in front of the massive mirror over the vanity.
I take in our reflections, my breath catching. The bright lights accentuate the stark contrasts between us.
My pale skin and bright blond hair are in juxtaposition to his tanned complexion and dark hair–dusted frame. He’s large and firm and wound tight with control, while I’m much smaller, with soft curves and shaky energy.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” He wraps one toned arm across the front of my chest, focus locked on me in the mirror.
Him.
This.
Us.
“Yes,” I say, hoping he can tell how deeply and purely I mean it. “I checked the dead bolt on both our doors before coming over.”
“Good girl.” He sweeps my hair to the side, trailing a path of kisses from my collarbone to the delicate skin below my ear.
I pivot, eager to face him, but he grips my hip with his free hand, halting my progress.
“You have far too many clothes on for what I have in mind,” he tells me. “Watch while I undress you for the first time. That way you’ll see for yourself how deeply you affect me.”
Emotion catches in my throat, jumbling my thoughts. With a shaky exhale, I force myself to relax. To give in to this. To trust that Alaric knows what he’s doing.
Shifting back, I give him my weight. He’s completely naked and wet, water soaking into my clothes, but I don’t care. They won’t be on for long anyway.
“May I?” He tugs lightly on the hem of my sweatshirt.
Heart jumping, I nod.
The change of pace is strange at first, but like earlier, with each passing second, I grow more confident in his plan to slow things down and savor the moment.
We could have gone at it and fucked right there in the shower. Just like he could have rubbed my clit a few times and gotten me off at record speed this morning. But his ability to prolong a moment like this isn’t just hot—it’s thoughtful, considerate, and supremely intimate.
I lift my arms so he can pull my cropped crew neck overhead. Once he’s discarded it, his rich chocolate brown eyes scan every detail of my lace-trimmed sports bra.
I reach up to the front clasp, assuming he won’t realize it’s there, but before I can undo it, he bats my hands away.
“Allow me.” He deftly undoes the clasp and removes the bra in a quick, seamless motion.
The second they’re free, my nipples pucker.
With a groan, he cups my breasts, gently squeezing and taking in the weight and size of them.
“Absolutely perfect.” He massages them for a few seconds before capturing my nipples between his forefingers and thumbs.
I hum as he tugs on the sensitive buds, rolling them and stroking them as pleasure zings through me.
“Look how responsive you are.” He pinches my nipples again. Hard.
Crying out, I throw my head back against his shoulder, pressing my chest into his hands and chasing the sensation.
“You love this, don’t you?”
A surge of warmth trickles through my core. “Do it again,” I whisper, eyes closed.
“Watch me.” He bites down on my earlobe.
Inhaling sharply, I look at him in the mirror.
His strong, tan fingers look so hot cupping my tits. He pinches my nipples, then pulls on them simultaneously.
An initial shock of pain rolls into a wave of warm, wet, undulating pleasure, causing my pussy to spasm, eager for more.
“Too much?” he asks.
“Just right,” I promise, panting.
He repeats the motion, kneading and squeezing, toying with and stretching the hard peaks.
Before long, I’m bucking my hips, rubbing my ass into his crotch, desperate for more.
With a growl, he abandons my breasts, smooths one hand down my spine, and drops to his knees behind me.
“I can’t get the vision of your perfect cunt out of my head.”
He yanks on my sweatpants, pulling them down my legs, taking my thong with them.
“You’re sensational.” He scrapes his teeth along the fleshy globe of one of my cheeks and places a wet kiss on the other.
“With your permission, I’d like to lift you onto this counter and make a fucking meal out of your cunt.”
With my permission?
Who is this man, and why isn’t his tongue already inside me?
“Please.” I pop up on tiptoes and bend over to tease him.
He chuckles, his breath hot on my skin. “You’re truly perfect, Evangeline. My god… my luck.”
Large hands caress my hips, then grip my inner thighs, guiding my legs apart. I’m practically flat against the countertop, spread wide and fully exposed.
“Alaric,” I whine, desperate for him to make good on his promise.
“I know, angel. I’m going to take care of you. Be patient and let me work.”
And work he does.
He kisses up my thighs, alternating legs, then cups my sex.
But he doesn’t take it any farther. Instead, he stands and runs his tongue up the length of my spine, then trails one hand along the same path.
He presses against my back, gently forcing me into the hard marble counter.
The pressure and dominance of his hold soothe me, quelling my nerves and centering me for what’s to come.
With a hand cuffing my neck, he lifts me by the throat. After giving me a moment to take in our reflection, he turns me around.
He pulls my face to his, his tongue plunging into my mouth as he grips my jaw. He kisses me with abandon, every lick and stroke sloppier than the last, until we’re both panting and desperate for what’s next.
With ease, he lifts me onto the counter, then guides my feet onto the surface as well, exposing me completely.
Then, like he promised, he drops to his knees.
The first lick is tentative. Testing. Gripping my thighs, he drags the tip of his tongue through my sex, leaving a hot, aching trail of need in his wake.
The next lick is tactical and purposeful, his mouth closing around my clit.
When his tongue pierces into me, spots dance in my vision.
And like this morning, he senses my reaction and doubles down, sending me higher.
“It’s better than I even dreamed it would be.” He lavishes my pussy with long, hot licks as he peers up.
The sight of him on his knees, feasting with abandon, is mesmerizing.
As he ravages my core, licking and sucking, fucking me with his tongue, he keeps his face buried between my thighs. He never stops or falters, moaning his own pleasure as warmth and indulgence gather in my core.
When I’m close, I suck in a breath to warn him, but my brain is mush, my thoughts jumbled, making it impossible to utter a single word.
“That’s it, angel. You’re so wet for me. You taste so good. I can’t get enough of this juicy little cunt. By the way you’re practically fucking my face, you’ve got to be close. Be a good girl and let go for me now.”
His encouragement is my undoing.
With a high-pitched scream, I detonate, blinding pleasure scorching through my veins as liquid lust undulates from my center.
The cool, firm marble below my body provides the perfect resistance as he keeps eating, fucking me with his tongue and lapping at my clit like he can’t get enough.
When the sensations become too much, I cry out, one hand shooting down in search of him.
He catches it and rises to his feet, hooded eyes boring into me.
“Perfection in human form.” He places a chaste kiss on my knuckles. As he pulls back, he subtly wipes remnants of my pleasure from his mouth.
I can’t help but giggle.
I don’t need to see my reflection to know I’m a mess. But when he tells me I’m perfect, it does something to my brain that I can’t begin to figure out.
He says it often, with so much confidence. As if he genuinely believes it.
“Stay there.” He snags a clean washcloth from the other side of the counter and turns on the faucet. After giving the water a few seconds to warm up, he soaks the cloth and wrings it out.
He falls back onto his haunches and runs the warm, wet cloth all over my pussy and inner thighs. Then he places a chaste kiss on my clit and stands, grinning.
“Come on.” He holds out one hand to help me off the counter. “I need to hold you now.”
Once I’m steady, he bends and scoops me up, literally sweeping me off my feet.
“Alaric. What are you doing?” I squeal, head thrown back.
“I’m taking you to bed,” he tells me, his voice low and growly.
“To just sleep?” I tease, curling against his bare chest as he navigates through the bathroom into the bedroom. Halfway to the bed, a yawn escapes me.
He chuckles softly, then lets out a wide yawn of his own. “Yes, angel. We’re both satisfied, and I’m desperate to hold you. It’s time to sleep.”