Page 75 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

I surge forward, nipping at his Adam’s apple and licking his skin while wrapping my hand around his neck. Rurik immediately releases the most delicious surprised sound, throwing his hands on the coffee table to steady himself against the force.

“Fuck,” He groans as my teeth graze his jaw and my tongue eases the skin. “Get off of me, Briar.”

It's funny he says that, yet the way his hands slide around my waist tells me otherwise.

As he attempts to rise from the stool, I allow him, only to spin us around and push him onto the couch swiftly. An exquisite groan escapes him as I pepper kisses all over his face, our lips meeting in a fiery collision while our tongues engage in a passionate dance.

He places his palms on my chest, and I stiffen, thinking he’s going to shove me away again. Instead, his hands trail lower until they cup my breasts, the pad of his thumb circling my hardening nipples.

He releases a deep puff of breath, and I swallow that up, nipping his bottom lip again before diving back in to fight with his tongue. I savor the taste of him, consume the intoxicating symphony of his husky groans and grunts that escape his mouth, and eagerly swallow the puffs of life he’s bringing back to me. When he bites my lip, a sharp pang of pain shoots through me, spreading a thrilling sensation throughout my body.

Holy shit.

I can’t believe this is happening.

I can’t believe he’s letting it go this far.

Manifestation is fucking real!

“Fuck!” Rurik repeats as my fingers wrap around the curls of his dark hair and tug it hard.

“We can if you want,” I tease against his lips, my hand slowly trailing down from his chest to his hard abs and teasingly rubbing the hardness, begging to be released from his pants.

He pulls his head back, and I continue kissing his throat and unbuttoning his shirt to give his chest some lip action, too.

“W-wait,” He shakes as my hand slips inside his pants and squeezes his dick.

“You remember the safe word?” I ask, looking up at him.

His eyes flicker all over my face before giving me a quick nod.

I grin at him again, continuing to kiss his Adam’s apple — I’m fucking obsessed with it, I don’t know why — and start jerking him off, using his precum as lube.

Rurik’s eyes roll to the back of his skull as he groans. “Fuck, d-don’t you dare, oh, shit —”

I force him to stop talking with my lips. He places a hand on my head and gathers my hair, pulling on it tightly. The harder I jerk him off, the tighter he pulls my hair. That welcoming, stinging sensation continues surging through me like wildfire as I kiss him.

And then, I pull away completely.

His hazy eyes gradually flutter open, and a surge of heat prickles my skin at the intensity of desire in his gaze. He blinks slowly, watching as I lower myself to the floor, kneeling before him.

“This looks familiar,” I tease, “Are you going to push me away this time, angel? Tell me how much you hate it when I call you that?”

He fucking swallows again, and I fight the urge to bite his throat once more like some weird wannabe vampire.

“I…I…” He whispers so slowly I could barely hear him.

“You don’t what?” I press.

He scowls but looks away as he murmurs so softly, “I don’t hate it.”

I smile up at him as I try to shove his pants and boxers down. To my disappointment, he places his hand on my wrists and shakes his head frantically. I frown, waiting for him to say the safe word.

Again, he doesn’t.

Instead, his eyes dart to the corner of the room as he mutters, “You don’t have to do that.”

I cock my head to the side, “I don’t have to do what?”

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