Page 87 of Wicked Dreams

“Suck.”

We’ve done this before.

I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but he takes the opening. He pushes his fingers into my mouth, and the taste ofmetakes over my senses. Tentatively, I touch my tongue to his fingers. He presses down on my tongue, and saliva fills my mouth.

His gaze is fastened on my lips.

I bite his fingers.

He jerks them out of my mouth and scowls. “Didn’t take you as one into blood play.”

“I could be into a whole range of things you know nothing about.”

“Is that a promise?” He undoes my panties from the headboard and carefully unwinds them from my wrists.

“Maybe,” I reply.

He rolls onto his back. He drags his boxers down, exposing his dick. It springs to attention, stiff and straight.

“Um…”

“Straddle my chest,” he orders.

“Why?”

“So I can lick your pussy while you choke on my cock.”

Oh, fuck. My face heats, and I shake my head—then stop. Because Ijustsaid I might be into a whole range of things… but I’m not going to know either. Not unless I try.

So I do what he says. I get up on my knees and swing one leg over, facing his dick. It’s a totally different angle this way, instead of on my knees while he stands above me.

I gather my hair and pull it over one shoulder, then lower myself.

I spit on him, and it twitches. I wrap my fingers around it and stroke it a few times, then… well, I just go for it. I take him deep, and he groans. He waits until I’ve found some semblance of a rhythm, a pattern, and then absolutely obliterates it by licking straight up my center.

“Keep going.” He nips at my ass cheek.

I lurch. His hands on my hips keep me in place, then drag me back harder against his face.

If I thoughtIwasn’t holding back… surely he’s just trying to outdo me. His tongue plunges into me, then moves to my sensitive clit. Everything throbs in time with his ministrations, and I try to keep up. I twist my hand around the base of his dick, then reach down and cup his balls.

He moans. His hips jack, forcing himself deeper into my mouth. He hits the back of my throat. He continues to fuck my face until his balls lift up toward his body. I only feel it because of my fingers on them, and it’s the warning I need.

He comes in my mouth.

Across my tongue, down my throat. I swallow hard, sucking until there’s nothing left. And then I focus on the sensation between my legs and the pleasure spiraling through me.

I press my forehead to his stomach and struggle to keep my composure—and to keep quiet. I come with a low groan, twisting the sheets up in my fists. And when I finally gain my sanity back, I pitch sideways off of him.

I take deep breaths, then roll out of bed and hurry into the bathroom. My chest is tight, restricting my lungs, and my heartbeat hammers so loud in my ears I can’t think straight.

How am I supposed to react to the way he always sneaks in and does wicked things to me?

Not to mention—he said I was the only one.

Do I believe him?

I just need to wait until he gets dressed and climbs back out the window. Which shouldn’t take him too long, right?

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