Page 101 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

A burn seared through her lungs. She’d been holding her breath. With a quiet exhale, she continued to follow the line of his hair as it narrowed and cut down his stomach. One of his arms lay across his waist, fingertips brushing her side as if he couldn’t bear not touching her, even in sleep.

She traced around his hand, outlined the rings on his knuckles and smoothed over the skin on his wrist. Dipping down to his navel, she spread out her fingers and absorbed more of his body heat.

Tentatively, she explored lower and drew her fingers over the V at his hips. Her pointer finger found the trail of hair again below his waist, and she followed it, her hand slipping under the covers until she circled his girth. Half-erect, he stirred at her touch and filled her palm. She glanced back up at his face. Still no movement.

How many times had she come yesterday? Five? Six? How many orgasms did he have in store for her today?

She bit her lip in anticipation then tested the waters and squeezed his expanding length. He hardened instantaneously, rigid and thick. Noting each reaction, she slowly stroked up and down, then imagined what he would feel like inside her. When she’d finally earned every inch.

The excitement of pleasing him coursed over her skin like a trance, and with measured movements, she slipped under the covers. There, it became darker, hotter. The scent of him washed over her, followed by a heady rush of arousal.

She carefully squeezed between his legs and cupped his balls one at a time, rolling them in her palm. His cock surged, and she held in an elated squeak. Did he know? Or was he dreaming? But she couldn’t stop to lift the covers. Not when she had something better in mind.

Leveraging his cock to her lips, she ran the tip of her tongue up the tight skin of his frenulum, then closed her lips around his head. He shifted, widening his thighs with a throaty groan. Her pussy blushed at the sound, flooding with heat. Motivated all the more, she flattened her tongue and swirled around the crown of his shaft before licking down to his base.

He tasted better than she remembered, fresh from the shower and warm from sleep. With one hand, she continued to work his balls while the other combed over his thigh, relishing the flex of his muscles as she licked back up and sucked on his slit.

He tensed, shifting again as she took him down her throat. His skin slid over her tongue, and she went slow enough to feel him throb.

Eagerly, she incremented the pace bit by bit, transitioning all her attention to his subconscious reactions, to breathing him in and savoring the salty nip of precum that leaked onto her tongue. Her mouth watered, wanting to taste more, to feel more, to swallow every drop, and when she was done, she wanted to come up and see the same satiated expression on his face he’d worn yesterday.

Her pace quickened, cheeks hollowed, palms resting flat over his hips. The strain and pull of his muscles increased until he jerked, then relaxed with a deep groan. She held him in the back of her throat, knowing he’d woken fully and unsure what to do next.

His hand ventured under the sheets. Finding her head, he gave her a gentle caress and murmured something she couldn’t make out, then held her down as he thrust upwards. A thick rope of cum shot into her mouth. She swallowed happily, giggling as his dick gave a defeated pulse.

They both stilled, his heavy breaths puffing in the air and her hum of satisfaction vibrating through his semi-hard erection.

“Come here,” he mumbled, reaching for her.

She climbed over him, gratified to see him wearing a radiant smile, slanted from sleep and post-orgasm endorphins.

“Morning,” she murmured, kissing the faded remnants of the bruise on his ribs.

“I see someone wanted to start the day with dessert,” he rasped.

She grinned against his skin.

He pulled her up to his lips, rougher than she anticipated and urgent, as if they had gotten jealous of the rest of his body. His stubble scratched her cheek, but the gentle press of his mouth quickly soothed her.

“Feeling rested?” He feathered kisses along the outline of her smile and up the bridge of her nose. “Sore at all?”

She shook her head, too lost in his affection to speak.

“Good.” He bracketed his hands on her hips and hauled her up and over his chest. Before she could process what was happening, his tongue swept through her folds and dipped into her sex.

She moaned, struggling to find balance. He anchored her to his mouth without room for protest. The lazy ease with which she’d woken up shattered instantly, her limbs seizing with shock and pleasure. He parted her folds with indulgent lips and sought out her clit in slow, deliberate strokes.

“You’re soaked.” His voice dropped low and crisp, the statement not a compliment but an accusation.

It only made her hotter, and another flood of arousal emphasized his point. Unable to squirm, he held her in place as she gasped again.

He licked a long stroke up her sex and hummed in approval. “Did sucking my dick get you wet?”

She nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see because his face was buried in her pussy. “Y-yes.”

He dug one hand into her ass and moved the other to her breast, his tongue transitioning to short flicks over her clit that made her jaw open in a silent plea. Crack. Her nipple stung from the slap, yet it tightened out more, pointing into the cold air. Ravenous tingles washed over her as Adrian continued to lick her.

“Did you like swallowing my cum?”

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