“Wait,” I whispered.
He pulled back instantly, looking up at me with concern.
“You’re wearing way more clothing than I am. It’s not fair.”
His blue eyes danced with humor as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Better?”
I drank in his bare chest, the story of pain and strength written across it in scars and brands. “Much.”
“Good.” He crawled toward me on his hands and knees, his eyes never leaving mine. He didn’t even seem to notice when his hand landed on one of the palettes of paint.
Grasping my legs, he pressed a soft kiss over the fabric of my panties. “You are so fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his words warming me from the inside. “Hold on to me.”
I gripped his shoulders, smearing paint over his skin while he lowered my panties and buried his face against my slick folds. Our combined moans filled the room. I thought I might combust just from the sight of Joriel on his knees between my thighs.
The tip of his tongue nudged at my opening, and pleasure spiked through me. I tightened my hold on his shoulders as he lapped at my pussy like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. His groans vibrated against my folds, adding to the intense feelings he was already drawing out of me.
“You taste so sweet,” he said before his tongue plunged deep inside me, eliciting a cry from me.
It was too much. The things Joriel could do with his tongue were beyond anything I’d even imagined. This felt nothing like what I’d done to myself in the alcove after Joriel had left.
He didn’t let up even when my legs started shaking. I moaned his name, clutching him like my life depended on it.
“That’s it, sweetness. Come on my tongue.” He shifted so his nose brushed my clit while he continued thrusting his tongue inside me, building me up so high I was afraid the fall might kill me.
“Joriel, I…” I shattered into a million pieces as everything inside me spasmed and waves of pleasure rocked through my body.
He didn’t stop until the last tremors had faded and I didn’t think I could stand on my own. His hands moved to my waist and he lowered me to the floor, hovering over me while his eyes searched my face. He brought his lips to mine, kissing me slow and deep. It was the kind of kiss that made your head spin and seared your soul. I could taste myself on his tongue. It was strangely erotic, and it made me curious whathetasted like.
I slid my palms from his shoulders to his chest, pushing lightly.
He didn’t fight me, pulling back instantly. “Are you okay?”
“I want to return the favor.”
I could see his eyes darken at my words, but he shook his head. “I’m not done with you yet.”
I started to protest, but the words died on my lips as he kissed his way along my jaw, stopping at my ear.
“You deserve to be worshipped—every single inch of you.”
And I felt worshipped as he kissed and stroked his way over my skin, learning my body while I writhed and touched him wherever I could reach.
By the time he made it back to my lips, I was buzzing with need. His touches only made me want more, and I didn’t think I’d ever truly be satisfied. I’d always want more of Joriel.
“Please,” I murmured against his lips.
“What do you want?”
“To taste you.”
He pulled back, his eyes burning. “You don’teverneed to beg me for that.” He brought my hand to the throbbing bulge in his pants. “This belongs to you. It’s yours whenever and however you want it.”
Tentatively I rubbed him through his pants, growing bolder as his eyes rolled back and he groaned.
“Shit, snow angel,” he gritted out.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, looking up at him.
