Page 10 of Sinful Sacrifice

His lips crash onto mine, and he cups the back of my head, tugging me closer to deepen our connection.

I’ve kissed plenty of men—okay, six—but none have ever given me such a rush or made me feel so desired.

I open my mouth, and he groans into it.

A warning he’ll tear my life apart.

An unsteady breath catches in my throat when he hauls me to my feet and situates me so I’m standing, my heels sinking into the cushions.

My vagina is only inches from his face.

I guess we’re going for a Nutcracker remix.

Even though it’s the worst idea ever, I rest my palms on the couch as he holds me steady. My breathing is a ragged mess as he guides me to lift one foot, allowing him to peel my leggings down one leg.

Then, he does the same with the other.

I tremble as he rips my panties and flings them over his shoulder.

My knees shake, and without warning, he buries his entire face between my legs. He grips my ass cheek in one hand while the other holds my thigh in place.

His skilled tongue licks straight up my center.

I tense, aware letting this random man go down on me is a bad idea.

But, God, it feels too good to stop him.

I’m throbbing for him to do more.

Growing wetter and wetter with each flick of his skilled tongue.

“Your pussy is so wet for me,” he groans against my leg, his voice raspy.

My legs tighten when he slips a thick finger inside me.

“It’s been this wet since I put you in my car, hasn’t it?”

I stifle a moan, resisting the urge to demand he stop asking questions and return to his pleasuring.

“Admit it,” he presses. “You wanted me to come up here and touch you. That’s why you didn’t scream. You’d rather I make you scream in other ways.”

I grip the back of his head, shoving his face closer.

“Answer me,” he clips yet also sounds desperate. “Tell me you wanted this as bad as I did.”

“Yes,” I cry out. “I wanted it bad.”

As if satisfied with my answer, he shoves two … maybe three … fingers inside me. My knees weaken, and he tightens his grip on me.

I dig my nails into his hair, the other hand into the couch, struggling to handle the intensity of his mouth and fingers. Nothing has ever felt so right and perfect.

He hitches my leg higher, rubbing his scruffy cheek against my thigh. I love how abrasive and rough it feels against my skin.

Damien laps me up as if I’m something sacred he’s never drunk before.

As if consuming me will grant him immunity from every sin he’s ever committed.

“Ride my face until you come all over it.” He pulls me back some so I can understand his words. “I want you to smother me with your sweet cum, my dancer.”

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