Page 12 of Sinful Blaze

My brow furrows. “Why what?”

“Why stay quiet?” His tongue passes over the crease in my hip and I shudder.

“Because they’ll… they’ll…” I can’t think. His lips press over the sensitive skin right above my mound and he’s draping my legs over his shoulders. Is he doing what I think he’s doing? “They’ll hear me. Us.”

“Good. Let them.”

My back arches at the first glide of his tongue between my folds. His grip on my thighs tightens, then smooths up my legs to my waist where he presses me down. Oh my God, I don’t know what to grab, but I need to grab something or I’m gonna buck off this table so hard it’ll be like a rocket launching into space.

So I fist my hands in his hair and tug the same time he nips and sucks and tugs and then sweeps his tongue even deeper inside me.

I haven’t…

I don’t…

When was the last time Conrad kissed me down there?

Has anyone done this to me before?

I can’t remember. I can’t fucking think. Pasha is somewhere between making out with my slit and fucking me with his tongue… and then he moves up a bit.

His wicked mouth latches onto my clit. His hands keep me anchored in place, but nothing stops the loud cry of pleasure from pouring out of me.

Back and forth, back and forth, his tongue flicks and swirls and teases that small bundle of nerves that makes my toes curl and my hips grind against his face.

And then one of his hands leaves my waist, and I think he’s going to move on to something else?—

I cry out again. He’s filling me with his fingers—first one, then two—and instantly searches for the spot deep inside me that no one, especially not Conrad, ever tried to hit.

“Sing for me, moya plamya.” Pasha breathes over my pussy. He presses, his fingers curl, and I feel the sudden surge of pleasure when he finds that sweet spot inside me.

I’m writhing like crazy, my moans pitching as the pleasure builds and builds and builds deep inside…

And then it bursts open.

I’m seeing stars.

I don’t know how long I ride that high. I don’t know if I ever want to come back down.

Pasha holds me, murmuring his encouragement for me to just “let go, let it out, let them hear, let them all fucking hear.”

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers against my skin as he kisses the insides of my thighs. Then he’s suddenly rising over me, dragging me closer to the edge of the table until my ass dangles over open space. His hands are the only things keeping me from crumbling to the floor.

He kisses me and fuck, I can taste myself on his lips and tongue. It’s so dirty. So… so wicked.

I love it.

He groans when I lick him clean, and I moan right back when I feel his hot, hard length slide over my core and tease my clit. We pull apart just enough to look each other in the eyes—and it’s almost like he’s asking me for permission.

I bite my lip. And nod.

This time, he swallows my cry of pleasure and I’m glad because I swear, this man is going to make me scream. He’s spreading me open, pushing me to new fullness I have never felt. His cock is surging and pulsing and pushing… pushing… oh, God…

“That’s it, moya plamya, my little flame,” he growls in my ear. “Let me hear you sing. Let the whole fucking world hear you sing.”

Pasha wraps his arms around me and lifts me up. Up, up, until our chests rub and slide against each other and gravity helps him bottom out inside me with every. Single. Solid. Thrust.

I can’t…

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