Page 179 of Sin & Sapphire

“Be my filthy fucking queen and tell me what you need.”

Angelo, on his knees, begging me to tell him what to do, begging me to take back the control that he’d wrested from me the day Valentin took me into captivity, was fucking hot. So fucking hot.

“Undress me.”

He rose, never taking his gaze from mine, then skimmed his hands up my sides so he could slip the straps of my sundress over my shoulders, leaving the dress around my hips. He groaned when he revealed my breasts clad in a simple cotton bra. His breath skimmed up my torso, and then he was reaching around me to unclasp my bra.

Angelo groaned when he tugged the cups down, dragging the straps over my shoulders. “Fucking gorgeous, a dirty girl who knows exactly what she wants,” he said, kneeling once again before me.

He stilled, then wrapped his tattooed hands around my hips and pressed his face to my belly. I froze, wondering if he’d guessed my secret, then relaxed. I would tell him—all of them together—in the morning, when I confessed my love and prayed they agreed to take me back on my terms.

Slowly, tentatively, I brought my hands to his hair then gently scratched his scalp, content to hold him while he held me. He turned his face so his cheek rested against my stomach, the delicious scratch of his beard combining with the heat of his touch, comforting and warm, everything I’d missed over the last several weeks.

I lost track of time as I combed my fingers through his hair, absurdly grateful that he allowed me this, that he was willing to subsume his need to control so that I could indulge my own.

Finally, he slid the dress over my hips, placing soft kisses down my legs until he carefully lifted each foot so I could step out of it. When he hooked his fingers around my panties, a whimper escaped me, the anticipation of standing before this man naked and commanding him to pleasure me overwhelming me.

His callused fingers scraped against my skin as he lowered the scrap of cloth, smiling as it clung to my nether lips, drenched with the evidence that I wanted him.

My cheeks flushed.

“Don’t be embarrassed,tesoro. Look how fucking hard I am for you.”

My eyes swept downward to take in his cock, straining against his pants, thick and long. I wanted him inside me, wanted him to fuck me, wanted to own all of him just as he—no. Not yet.

When I was naked, he rocked back on his haunches, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

I hummed, his praise hitting me in the middle of my chest and warming me from the inside out. I was bruised and scarred and in pain, and this man was looking at me like I’d hung the moon in the sky.

“Ana, please, I have to taste you,” he rasped.

I backed up against the wall and beckoned him by crooking a finger. To my shock, he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled the two steps to me before dropping his head to the ground and brushing his lips over the tops of each foot.

A woman could get used to this sort of worship.

“A goddess,” he corrected against my skin. I must have said it out loud.

I stared down at the man prostrate before me, whose lips whispered up my legs, and told him, “Make me come,” in the most authoritative voice I could muster.

Angelo didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted one of my legs and draped it over his shoulder so he could kiss my mons. He nuzzled his cheek in the soft blonde hairs there, then hunched his back and lapped at my slit.

I moaned with pleasure at the wet heat of him as he explored my pussy. “Such a wet cunt, so fucking delicious, and all mine to devour,” he said, never stopping the quiet stream of praise as he licked and kissed my folds. I didn’t correct him about the ownership.

“Angelo, don’t fucking tease me,” I growled, then dragged his face deeper into my pussy by his salt-and-pepper hair. “Fucking get me off.”

He chuckled against my skin, then lifted my leg higher so he could angle his face in closer. He slid a finger inside me, then a second, while he latched his lips around my clit, sucking hard.

I cried out in shock as my attention focused on my core, on the bliss he evoked with his steady, measured touch. “Angelo,” I whined.

He didn’t answer, just increased the speed of his fucking, sucking on me with hard, rhythmic pulls that made me lose my mind with lust until my entire world shattered around me.

“Daddy!” I whimpered as I sagged against the wall, only for Angelo to sweep me up into his arms and bring me to the bed. He set me on the edge, then stepped away, stopping only when I reached out, holding onto his belt with the tips of my fingers.

Weak and trembling with the aftereffects of my climax, I tugged him back toward me. “Daddy,” I said again, tasting the word, wondering if I was really ready to do this.

Angelo knelt beside me on the floor, taking one of my hands in his and stroking my temple with the other one. “Yes, angel, anything.”

“Daddy, please,” I said, praying I wouldn’t regret my words. “I want you to fuck me like you own me.”

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