“What are you gonna do to me?” she whispers, her chest rising like she can’t pull in enough air.
A cruel smile crawls over my lips. “Whatever the fuck I want.”
And she knows I mean it. Every depraved, filthy, unholy word.
I drop to my knees on the sofa, caging her in. One hand wraps around her throat, just enough for her to feel it, to wear the promise of who she belongs to. My other hand trails along the inside of her thigh, skimming just past where she aches the most.
“If we do this…” she roughs out. “You can’t kiss me.”
Rage snakes through my veins.
“That’s a pity.” I grab her ankle and lift it, dragging my mouth over the delicate bone before pressing a kiss to her skin. “May I kiss you here?”
My lips climb higher, up the silk of her thigh like a man scaling heaven just to defile it.
“Or here?” My mouth drops to the spot where her hip meets the top of her thigh.
She shivers, and I grin against her flesh.
She’s already mine. She just hasn’t accepted it yet.
“Or would you like it better if I kissed you here?” Roughly, I drag her to the edge of the sofa, locking eyes with her as I slide a finger into her.
Her body bows, craving more.
I’m dying for her. Want to bury my tongue inside her.
“Answer me. Tell me what you want.”
Her fingers sink into my hair, pushing me between those thighs, her expression filled with depraved hunger. “Yes, yes, kiss me there.”
With a growl, I bury my mouth between her legs.
Finally.
The taste of her hits me like violence. Sweet and sinful. Like she was made for this. Made for me. Her moan rips out sharp and raw, hips jolting, hands scrambling for something to hold as she claws into the leather.
“Oh God…”
“You like that?” My tongue flicks her clit, slow at first, then firmer, circling it while I watch her fall apart.
She nods, lips parted, panting, but that’s not enough.
“Words, malyshka,” I growl against her. “I want to hear it. Tell me how much you love my tongue inside you. Say it like you mean it.”
Because now that I’ve tasted her, there’s no going back.
I don’t have to love her to keep her. But Tessa is mine.It’s already been decided. There’ll be no one else. Not for her. Not for me.
And if anyone tries to touch her? I’ll tear them apart piece by piece and feed them every fucking bite.
“Shit, yes, okay. Yes, I love it…” she gasps, the confession punching through my chest like a bullet I’d gladly take again and again.
As her reward, I drag her clit into my mouth and devour her—sucking, teasing, flicking with just enough pressure before I slide my tongue into her tight, dripping hole. She tastes like sin and surrender. Like a drug I never wanted a taste of, but now that I’ve had it, I’maddicted.
“You like it better than her mouth?” Every wrecked word is coiled with frustration, with hunger. “Because you sure looked like you were enjoying it.”
She writhes beneath me, panting, lost in it. “I was pretending it was you…”
