Page 66 of Where We Burn


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Some mornings, feminism can go take a seat.

Right now, I just want to be owned, used, and adored.

The floor chills my skin as Christian swings those muscled thighs over the edge of the bed, framing my face like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. When I look up, his eyes are pitch black, dark enough to swallow me whole.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful on your knees like this. You want this cock?” I nod, already aching for him. “You’ve earned it after keeping my dick warm in that greedy little cunt all night.” He threads his fingers through my hair, the other hand guiding his cock to my lips. “Be a good girl and give me that mouth.” I part my lips eagerly, and he smears the thick tip across my tongue. “Fuck, that’s it. Get it nice and wet for me.”

I moan softly, dragging my tongue along the underside of him. My fingers tighten around his thighs as I rake my nails upward, leaving a burning trail that makes his abs clench and his hips jerk forward.

“Give me more,” I beg, and he suddenly stands, wrapping my hair around his fist and forcing my head back.

“You wanna be used, darlin’?” My heart slams against my ribs, and I nod again. “Open up and relax your throat. Show me what that pretty mouth is really for.”

I’ve been on my knees for him almost every day this week, and my body knows exactly what he needs. I take him deep, letting my lips stretch around his thick length, swallowing him down until he’s seated at the back of my throat. He uses my hair like a handle, holding me there while he rocks his hips forward in slow thrusts that make my eyes water and my cunt clench.

“Get those fingers in that pussy. Show me how wet you get when I use your mouth like this.”

I slide my hand between my thighs, and the moment my fingerspush inside, I moan around him. I’m sensitive from how rough he fucked me last night, but I’m still aching for more. I pull my fingers out and raise them, letting him see the proof of just how wrecked I already am.

Suddenly, he’s got me by the arms, lifting me like I’m light as air, and he falls back onto the bed with a low grunt. He taps his chest with one hand and gives me that dark, dirty smile I’m dying to kiss off his lips.

“Get up here and ride my face. I’m gonna tongue-fuck every moan out of you.”

I drop down, fully seated, and grind against his face as I mark him with every roll of my hips. His groan is muffled beneath me, and his large hands possessively grip my ass, fingers digging in as he holds me still. I lean forward, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other fisting the bed sheets.

I feel him spread me open with his tongue the second I lower my mouth back down on his cock, and Jesus fucking Christ—why the hell haven’t we done this before?

Because this is ecstasy.

Dirty, perfect, mind-melting ecstasy.

His mouth closes around me, tongue forcing its way inside like he’s trying to own me from the inside out.

“Holy shit,” I pant out, dragging my fist down his length. “Eat me just like that, cowboy.”

His face is buried so deep I swear he’s trying to breathe through my pussy, and when he sucks my clit between his lips, I nearly lose it. For a second, I forget what I’m even doing. I forget the cock in my mouth. I forget how to breathe, and it’s all because his mouth is that goddamn good.

“Don’t you dare fucking come,” he growls against me. “You wait for me.”

I wrap my lips around him again, stroking in time with every suck, spit coating his cock and running down my chin as his hips start to buck beneath me. We’re a writhing, desperate mess, fucking each other’s mouths like it’s the last thing we’ll ever do.

“Fuck, Piper, keep going.” He’s panting, his voice wrecked and wild.

One more flick of his tongue and I detonate. My scream is muffled by his cock as I shatter, thighs clamping around his head as he holds me down and takes every twitch, every grind, and every broken moan I give him.

A second later, I feel him pulsing in my mouth, hot and thick and spilling down my throat as I give him the sloppiest blow job of my life. My hand keeps moving, jerking him through it, spit and cum coating my fist, dripping down his cock while I moan around him, my body still shaking from the aftershocks.

“How is it possible I already want to be inside you?”he says as I grab something to clean us with.

“Because you’re an insatiable bastard,” I tease, laughing right up until he smacks my ass just hard enough to sting. I roll off him, collapsing against his chest, and my cheek finds its place over his heartbeat.

“Not insatiable,” he corrects, fingers trailing lazy circles along the curve of my spine. “Just addicted to you.”

The truth is, I feel exactly the same way.

It doesn’t matter if he’s got his hands on me or if we’re just sitting in silence. Everything with him hits harder.

I’m hooked.