Page 45 of Forsaken Oath

“I want you to kiss me. And I want your hands.” I’m breathless.

“These hands, baby?” he murmurs against my skin, his lips dragging the taunt across the slope of my neck. His palms skate up the sides of my thighs, one rotating inward so his thumb rests in that sensitive crease between my leg and my pelvis.

“Yes,” I groan, arching into him.

“Yes, what, baby? Use your words.” He presses slow, deliberate kisses along my collarbone.

Frustration gurgles inside of me like an angry volcano. I palm both of his cheeks and drag his handsome face back up to mine. I look at his eyes, tripping over the depth of blue and stumbling into something I don’t know how to identify.

My chest heaves, and I feel like there’s more lust in my veins than blood. But I’ve never felt more alive in my life.

I stare at him through half-lidded eyes and lift my leg, resting it against his hip. “I want you to stop edging me and make me come.”

A satisfied smile curls his lips as he palms my thigh, taking the weight. “Here?” He ghosts his fingers along the edge of my panties, teasing me with the barest hint of pressure. “Is this where you want me to touch you, Peach?”

I grasp his hand and guide it between my thighs until his fingertips brush against the lace of my panties. “No.Here.”

“Good girl.” A deep growl rumbles in his chest as his fingers slip beneath the delicate fabric, gliding through my slick folds. I gasp, my head falling back against the wall as he strokes me with maddening skill. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me already.”

His fingers dip lower, teasing my entrance before sliding back up to circle my clit with feather-light touches. Each caress is electric, sending jolts of pleasure racing through my body. I'm lost in sensation, the world narrowing down to nothing but his hands on me and the delicious tension coiling tighter and tighter in my core.

“That’s it, Peach,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. “Let me feel how much you like my fingers playing with your pussy.”

My lips part on a moan, and he swallows it with a kiss. His tongue swirls around as his fingers circle around my clit in maddeningly soft strokes. My hips rock against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure, more of everything he's giving me. I'm trembling, my thighs quaking as I teeter on the edge of oblivion.

Later, when I’ve come down and I’m not floating on a cloud of ecstasy, I might be embarrassed at how fast I’m about to come. But I’m too far gone to care.

“Please,” I whimper, the word escaping me in a desperate gasp. “I need . . .”

“I know what you need, baby.” His fingers slide lower, plunging deep inside me.

I cry out at the sudden fullness, my inner walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers in and out, curling them to hit that spot that makes my legs start tingling.

“Come for me, Peach. Let me hear it.”

His words are my undoing. The coil inside me snaps and I’m flying, waves of ecstasy crashing over me again and again. I cry out, my voice hoarse, as he works me through the intense pleasure, drawing out every last inch of my orgasm.

It’s a minute, a week, a month before I’m back on Earth. I’m back to myself, slumped against his chest, leg wrapped around his waist, and his fingers slowly pumping inside of me still.

“There she is,” he murmurs, dragging his lips across the top of my hair.

I pull back as he slowly slips his fingers from my pussy, twisting them to just graze that sensitive spot once more. Little aftershocks flow through me like dancing sparks.

I watch, transfixed, as Beau lifts his fingers to his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. With deliberate slowness, he parts his lips and slips his fingers inside, tasting me on his skin.

My breath catches in my throat as his tongue swirls around his digits, licking them clean with a sensual reverence that makes my thighs clench. There’s something unbearably erotic about the sight, about the knowledge that it’s my cum he’s savoring, like it’s a Michelin-star dessert.

A low hum of appreciation rumbles in his chest, the sound shooting straight to my core.

“Goddamn delicious. And I fuckin’ knew it.”

“Knew what?” Since when did my voice become so breathless?

He looks up at me, his blue eyes sparkling and his dimple popping out with a feral sort of grin. “You’re as sweet as a goddamn peach, Eloise.”

21

ELOISE

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