Chapter 3 #2
His eyes roam over me, slow and unrelenting, as if he’s memorizing the exact shape of me. Everywhere his gaze lands, my skin heats until I feel like I’m made of flames— burning, flickering, scorching.
I step back again, the wood cool against my thighs as I hit the small table in the corner. Without breaking eye contact, I slide onto the surface, my heart pounding, anticipation a thick pulse between my legs. Then, slowly, languidly, I lean back and spread my legs wide.
“Look at that pretty little pussy.”
Heat surges through me at his words, a flush rising across my skin. "Still feeling hungry?" I tease, my voice breathless.
Something dark flickers in his hazel eyes, something dangerous.
Without a word, he pushes off the wall, gripping the hem of his shirt with one hand and yanking it over his head in a single, fluid motion. He tosses it behind him, forgotten.
Jesus.
His body is pure sin—ripped, taut muscle wrapped in ink, every inch of him sculpted into something primal and devastatingly beautiful.
He stalks toward me with a predator’s grace, muscles flexing, shadows playing across his skin in the dim light.
He should be a porn star.
Hell, maybe he is.
The table slams against the wall when he closes the space between us, knocking a lamp to the floor with a crash. Before I can react, his mouth is on mine—rough and consuming, devouring me whole. My hands fly to his hair, threading through the silky strands, pulling him closer.
God, he tastes good.
Dark. Intoxicating. Addictive.
His lips leave mine, trailing fire down my neck, across my collarbone.
His mouth finds my breasts, nipping, sucking, his tongue circling each sensitive peak until I arch against him with a desperate whimper.
He keeps going, lower and lower, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through me. Then he drops to his knees.
I barely have time to process it before he grips one of my thighs and hooks it over his shoulder. His breath is scalding against my skin, the anticipation unbearable.
Fuck, yes.
This is going to be ridiculously good.
He looks up at me through dark lashes, eyes smoldering.
His fingers skim along my inner thigh—featherlight, teasing—making my muscles tense and quiver.
"Look at how deliciously wet you are for me," he groans.
His fingers trace soft patterns over my bare skin, just enough to set my nerves alight but not enough to satisfy the ache clawing at my insides.
The teasing, fluttering touches make my breath hitch, my stomach tighten, and my thighs tremble. "Fucking hell," I pant. "I'm dying here."
Then his mouth is on me.
His tongue flicks over my clit in quick, perfect strokes—precise and devastating.
My head tips back, a moan slipping past my lips before I can catch it.
He hums against me, the vibration sending a shockwave through my body. My thighs tremble, and I feel his hands grip my hips tighter, holding me in place as he delves deeper—his tongue circling, teasing, relentless.
Heat floods through me, pooling low in my belly, coiling tighter with every calculated swipe of his tongue. I can’t help it. My hips buck against his mouth, desperate and shameless.
He groans in approval, the sound muffled but intoxicating, and I swear I can feel his smirk against my skin.
My fingers thread through his hair, tugging, and he chuckles, the vibration reverberating straight through me. I’m on the brink, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, and he doesn’t ease up, not even when my thighs clamp around his head.
Instead, he doubles down, mouth working me over with ruthless precision.
My entire body is on fire, tension building with every drag of his tongue and flick of his lips. The world narrows to just this—his mouth, my body, the undeniable pull of pleasure tearing through me.
"Oh, fuck yes," I breathe, heavily. "My God, you're really good at this."
Suddenly, his mouth is gone.
The sharp slap to my clit comes so fast, so unexpectedly, that it takes a second for my brain to register the sting. I gasp, the air catching in my throat, my body jolting from the sudden impact.
Before I can form a single word, his fingers plunge inside me—filling me, stretching me, curling just right. His mouth finds my clit again, lips sealing over the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking hard.
The combination of his fingers stroking deep and his tongue working me over is overwhelming. A wrecking ball of pleasure. My entire body trembles, thighs quaking around his head, a warmth coiling tight in my core.
Damn.
He's really good at this.
I can’t control it. I’m already so close, my body spiraling toward the edge with dizzying speed. I fist his hair, gripping him tight, needing something to anchor me before I completely unravel.
Then he pulls away again. A whisper of cool air ghosts over my wet, sensitive skin. I barely have time to process the loss before another sharp smack lands against my pussy.
Then another.
And another.
Three more quick, stinging slaps that make my entire body jolt, pleasure and pain intertwining in a dizzying mix.
I'm instantly ravenous, my need turning feral.
I need to come so badly, I can feel it pulsing, hovering just out of reach.
My thighs tremble harder, aching to squeeze together, to find that last bit of friction.
“Next time I put my fingers inside you, you’re going to come all over my face like a good little girl.
” His voice is low, rough, commanding. The promise in his words sends a violent shiver down my spine, every nerve ending sparking to life.
His tongue flicks over my swollen clit, a slow, taunting stroke that makes me whimper.
I clutch the edge of the table for balance, my knuckles turning white as pleasure coils deep in my core.
Then his fingers sink inside me.
A sharp cry rips from my throat as he thrusts deep, stretching me open with practiced precision.
My back arches, hips rolling instinctively, desperate for more.
My pussy clenches around his fingers, a relentless pulse of need that he seems to read like a fucking roadmap.
I move against him, grinding down on his hand, then onto his tongue, chasing the overwhelming heat flooding my body.
Every flick, every stroke, sends me spiraling higher until my skin is fevered, my limbs shaky, my mind lost to the relentless rhythm he’s setting.
It crashes over me too fast. A strangled moan escapes as I come hard, pleasure tearing through me in sharp, dizzying waves.
My thighs tighten around his head, my entire body shuddering as he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from me until I collapse against the table, completely limp.
He looks up at me, his eyes dark and hungry, his face slick with my release. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
I let my legs slide down from his shoulders, breathless and wrecked, staring at him in disbelief. How the hell did he just do that to me so fast?
"Delicious," he murmurs, licking his lips like he just had his favorite meal. Then he stands, his fingers moving to the button of his wine-stained jeans, undoing them with unhurried confidence. "Now get on your knees," he orders, pulling out the most perfect cock I’ve ever seen.
My pulse pounds as I slide off the table, placing my hands against his smooth, tattooed chest. I press against him, guiding him back, step by step, until his legs hit the edge of the small couch. He steps out of his jeans, and I press harder, urging him down until he drops onto the seat.
As soon as my fingers wrap around his thick, pulsing length, my knees hit the floor. Now it’s my turn to make him lose control.
I want to ruin him.
I stroke him from base to tip, feeling the heat of him in my palm. His cock is smooth as silk, long and hard, pulsing with need. My breath catches as I watch my hand glide over him, up and down, slow and teasing.
A warm bead of pre-cum gathers at his tip, and I swipe my thumb through it, smearing it along his shaft. I’m mesmerized by how it glistens in the low light. A sound escapes him—not quite a moan, but a deep, satisfied sigh.
My mouth waters.
"I want to come on this cock tonight," I murmur, my strokes never stopping.
His eyes darken, heat flickering in those hazel depths.
"Oh, I promise you will. More than once.
" Fingers slide into my curls, soft for a moment before twisting tight, gripping hard enough to make my scalp tingle.
"But right now," he rasps, "I want to see you take all of me in that filthy mouth of yours. "
A shiver rolls through me.
I shift closer, sinking lower, letting my hands explore him.
His grip tightens in my hair as he spreads his legs wider, offering himself completely.
I drag my tongue around the tip of his cock, savoring the salt of his skin. One hand stays wrapped firmly around his shaft while the other cups his balls, massaging them with slow, firm pressure.
His whole body reacts. His thighs tense beneath my palms. His stomach flexes. His grip in my hair wavers, like he's fighting every primal urge not to fuck my mouth without restraint. A low, vibrating growl rumbles from his chest.
I flick my gaze up through my lashes, meeting his heavy stare.
He looks wrecked already, barely holding himself together.
Good.
I give him exactly what he needs. I take him deep, swallowing him down until my throat tightens, gagging around his thick length.
"Fuuuuck, that’s it, Angel. That’s it. You know what I need," he gasps, his voice raw and wrecked.
I slide up, my lips gliding over every inch of him before sinking back down. Again and again. Slow, wet, long strokes, feeling every twitch, every pulse against my tongue.
He tastes sinfully good. He smells even better—clean, masculine, and faintly spiced. I make a mental note to ask what soap he uses and sell it to every future lover I ever have.
I leverage myself higher and choke on his cock again until my eyes water.