Page 120 of Oathbreaker

I take my time walking over to the room, choosing the outdoor entrance rather than looping back through the house.

I step into the sunroom. It’s dark—nearly pitch black, with the drapery drawn along all three glass walls. The staff keeps this space clean, but there’s not much in here besides the furniture and a few tall plants.

Closing the door behind me, I step into the room on silent feet. I inhale as deep as my lungs will allow to catch Winter’s rose scent. Running my hand along the curtain nearest the door, I keep my arm extended, touching the material as I walk the length of the room.

When I reach the far corner where the glass wall meets the house, I pull back the curtain and find Winter grinning like the Cheshire cat. A shaft of light from the now-present moon illuminates the room.

“Found you,” I say. My voice is deep and husky, thickened with lust. I bring her close to me, crashing my lips down on hers.

She groans against my mouth, attacking me with as much ferocity as I’m attacking her. I push her against the wall, pulling her leg up to my waist.

“I’m so mad at you, H,” she growls. Her hands run through my hair, tugging hard on the strands.

The movement causes my cock to jump.

“Be mad then. You’re still not going.”

She snarls, and I slap her ass cheek.

“Be good,” I say against her mouth.

“I can’t,” she whimpers.

I push her skirt up so that it bunches around her waist, and I slide my hand down to her pussy. My knees damn near buckle when I feel how drenched she is.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be torture for me too,” I say, and I slide a finger into her, taking time to feel her.

She mewls, her back curving as she tilts her pelvis closer to me.

“Let me make it better,” I whisper against her mouth, and she nods slowly.

I drop to my knees. She’s the only person I will kneel for. Only for her. Only for Winter.

I waste no time putting my lips on her hot, wet cunt, eating at her so wildly that her essence is all over my chin. She rocks against my mouth, pulling at my hair as she rides my tongue. I push two fingers into her, reveling in her guttural moan when I add a third.

If I were on death row, I’d only want her as my last meal.

She pants, her moans rising in volume and pitch until she trembles around me, coming hard, my name on her lips.

“Good girl,” I say. She groans, biting her lip.

I don’t let her come down before I spin her, leaning her back on the low L-shaped sofa.

“Give me another one,” I say, kneeling in front of her. I undo my pants in a second and push her legs wide.

“H, I can’t,” she says on a moan.

“I disagree,” I reply. Then I slowly lick at her, pointing my tongue from her pulsing hole up to her clit. She moans low and long, her head rocking back and forth.

“H—”

“Relax into it,” I say, taking my time. I fist the base of my cock to make this last longer.

It takes a few minutes for her to get ramped up again, but I relish taking my time. Just when she starts climbing toward her second orgasm, I pull away, pinching her clit between two fingers.

She shouts, her back coming off the sofa before slamming back down.

“Flip,” I command. She whimpers but then turns over to her stomach.

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