Page 56 of Crave

“Good girl.”

Not missing a beat, I grabbed the vibrator, notched it to the highest speed, and pressed it against her clit.

She screamed and jerked, coming fast around the toy. I laughed and enjoyed the gorgeousness of her during orgasm. I know the mask took everything to the next level—and my Landon loved a good challenge. I made sure she was fully done before prying her legs back open and sliding down. Pressing soft kisses against her stomach, I whispered love words to her, nibbling down her mound, tracing her vulva, and finding her sweet, throbbing clit that was swollen from all the attention.

“So pretty,” I crooned, separating her lips and treating her to one long lick. My name burst from her lips and she tried to writhe away but I kept my arm clamping down on her thighs. “I’ll go slow on this one, sweetheart. I know you need a little recovery time.”

“No, I can’t, I can’t?—”

“Are you really done? Do you really think you can’t come one more time for me, or are you lying to me, my gorgeous slut?”

I licked gently, swirling my tongue around her engorged clit, playing until she was right back at the edge, where I wanted to keep her. Scraping my teeth back and forth, she shuddered, wildly throwing her hands out to find and grasp my shoulders. “Bastard,” she hissed.

“Come for me again, my queen. Show me how greedy your cunt is for my mouth.”

And then I fucked her with my tongue, closed my lips around her clit, and sucked hard.

She let out a screech and came again.

I was hard again. I could fuck her all night and never get tired of her spicy scent and taste, her soft, damp skin and hard strawberry nipples, her sloping curves and muscled calves, her luscious lips and punishing nails.

I’d intended on using the vibrator one last time, but decided I’d do the job myself. I needed to be inside her again, and gain my fill of memories for my cold bed. Moving her like a rag doll, I ripped the blindfold away and propped her up so she straddled my lap. She wrapped her arms around me tight, pupils dilated, lip bruised where she bit it over and over. “My beautiful one. Don’t disappoint me. There’s another left to give me unless you tell me no.”

I pressed soft kisses to her lips, over her damp cheeks, pushing back her mass of tangled hair from her face. My hands roved everywhere, and as my cock lined up against her, I moved back and forth, teasing her just enough that she began to rock her hips for more. “Yes…or no?” I asked her again, lowering my head to suck on her nipples. Her nails dug into my back. She blinked.

I met her drunken gaze and watched the moment she came to. With a feminine hiss, she rose up like a female goddess, baring her teeth and scraping her nails hard down my back to draw blood.

“Fuck me, Adam. Fuck your queen.”

God, I loved her.

Taking her mouth in a deep kiss, my cock shoved inside her in one rough push. She closed around me like a silken glove, and I grasped her hips, lifting her up and down in a frenzied pace that had both of us falling apart. I opened my eyes and met hers, the gleam of triumph evident before she surrendered, exploding around me for the final time, screaming my name over and over and over.

I fucked her savagely and emptied myself, the pleasure shredding me into pieces and leaving me torn apart as we fell to the bed together, limbs tangled, hearts beating as one, destroyed.

“You are the love of my life,” she whispered in the darkness.

“And you are mine,” I said back, cradling her like the fragile treasure she was.

The next day, she said goodbye and left me.

Chapter Thirty-One

Landon

Listen to You

by Regard, Troye Sivan & Tate McRae

The viral video changed everything.

When I arrived to the set where we’d be living for the next month, my jaw dropped. I’d seen it in pictures and video, of course, but in person was a whole new level of bad.

The “farm” consisted of a rundown dirty white house with an endless amount of junk littering the outside. There was a large chicken coop to the side and random farm animals were wandering around like they didn’t know where they were supposed to be. The barn or shed had a saggy roof, and as I peeked into the horse stalls, I wanted to hold my nose. I’d hoped for one of the places I used to visit as a kid, with cute animals to pet, clean stalls, and a cheery red fence surrounding gorgeous horses, with the mountains in the distance.

I could tell my fellow castmates were just as horrified. A big burly guy named Owen came out wearing denim overalls andspoke to us about having respect for his home and working farm. All of us could barely keep a straight face. It was so obvious the money he got from letting us film here would go into his pocket instead of his so-called beloved business.

I was immediately pulled aside from Lydia, the assistant producer. “This is fire,” she said, her intense gaze lit as she showed me her phone. I watched the familiar screens flicker past and tried not to wince. But she was more focused on the viewer numbers than what was happening. She tapped her red painted nail on the endlessly scrolling comments—some casting me as the victim, and others as the seductress spawn who manipulated two men.

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