Page 49 of Scorch

I squeeze my eyes tight because even though I’m inexplicably scared, I want this. I want this so damn badly. It takes effort to keep my hands in place. I remind myself of what he said he’d do if I moved them.

I’ll tie you up and whip you again until you’re begging for mercy

Do I want that?

What?

I’m still aching from the spanking he gave me but more than a little curious about what being tied up and whipped would look like.

Gah.

I think I might swallow my tongue in the effort of shutting the fuck up.

“Good girl,” he says, his gaze locked on mine tells me he knows exactly what I’m tempted by, and he knows how hard I’m trying. “Keep them right fucking there.”

His hands come to my breasts, and he gives my nipples a hard tweak. I scream out loud, but just in time, remember to keep my hands where he put them.

“That’s a girl,” he says approvingly. “That’s right, baby.”

He pushes himself on the bed and bends his mouth to my nipples, laving one at a time with the warm, wet, flat of his tongue while he fingers my pussy. I squirm beneath him, but my hands stay in place, even when his teeth clamp down and he bites my nipple.

“Ahhh!” I scream. “Viktor!”

“Mmm, you taste so fucking good, and I haven’t even tasted your pussy yet.” He shakes his head. “Jesus fucking Christ, I did something good in my past life to deserve a woman like you,” he says reverently.

“Good thing I’m not punishing you for your mouth. You swear like you’re in a gang.”

He smirks at me. “I’d like to see you try.”

And then he’s gone, and I’m scared because all I see is the breadth of his shoulders casting my body into shadow and the top of his head between my legs.

And then I’m drowning, dying, finally actually living when his tongue meets my aching, throbbing clit. It feels like the heat of hell and the perfection of heaven all at once. I close my eyes and shiver as waves of pleasure consume me.

He growls and fists his cock, jerking his massive erection as he lazily drags his tongue along my swollen slit. My thoughts fizzle into vapor at the hot feel of his breath on my inner thighs. When his teeth graze my clit, I wriggle my wrists, but a swift slap to my thigh makes me pause.

“I told you what would happen,” he warns. “I’m eating you out, girl, and you’re obeying me. You got me?”

I nod, stifling the need to whimper or smack him. I swallow, my mouth dry. “Mhm.” I nod, eager for him to continue.

And then he’s back at my pussy, worshiping me with his tongue until I feel like I can hardly stand the pleasure. I’ve never come on a man’s face like this, and it somehow both terrifies and thrills me, but I couldn’t stop now if I wanted to.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls, pausing to scrape my thighs with his stubble. The prickles feel like a million little needles. He drags his chin just on the very edge of my swollen clit and I scream.

“Atta girl,” he says, his hot breath on my thighs. “That’s what I like to see. You have my permission, my good girl. Come on my mouth, baby. Let yourself go.”

And then he sinks back down to the floor and fists his cock. Somehow, hearing him give me permission makes the first spasm of pleasure course through me, but I’m scared. I hold my breath, unable to move past the need to come and actually allowing myself to get there.

I’ve never had a man bring me to climax before.

I’ve had sex and felt… passing pleasure… but I never felt that earth-shattering, freeing, absolute bliss I’ve read about in those romance novels my sister gave me.

I don’t even know what it’s like. I don’t even know what it is I’m chasing.

I feel so tightly wound I’m a string about to snap, but I can’t seem to get there. Every time I think I’m going to, I can’t seem to get there.

“Come, baby,” he orders. I sniff and shake my head. I didn’t even know I was crying.

Why am I crying?

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