Page 38 of Butcher

My fingers threaded through his hair, tugging, as his lips trailed kisses along my jaw. His hands were everywhere, cupping my breasts, then gliding over my hips. He didn’t touch my pussy though. He teased me with his fingers sliding over the top of my panties and brushing my thighs, but never quite giving me what I wanted.

He sucked one nipple into his mouth and I cried out. My hips rose up, seeking the friction I desperately wanted, but he ignored me.

“Please,” I gasped.

“Hmmm?” He looked up at me, his fingers pinching my other nipple.

I moaned and he chuckled.

“You need something?” he asked, moving to the other breast.

“More,” I managed. “I need more.”

“More, what?” His tongue flicked the sensitive peak and my core clenched.

“I need you to fucking touch my pussy, Butcher,” I snapped, losing my patience.

“Good girl.” His tongue trailed down my stomach and he hooked his fingers under the sides of my panties, pulling them down. I lifted my hips to make it easier, then he was sliding them over my feet and tossing them over one brawny shoulder.

I expected him to dive in, but instead he sat back and looked down at me, his hands rubbing up and down my thighs. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, his expression almost reverent.

Shaking my head, I tried—through my lust hazed mind—to figure him out. He was a brutal killer. Which wasn’t a red flag. At least not for me. But he also gave out compliments like they were candy. I wasn’t sure how to react to them. To him. The only thing people hadever complimented me on was my ability to kill, which he also seemed to like. But being called beautiful? It made me uncomfortable almost as much as it made my insides melt.

“Stop thinking,” he ordered.

“Huh?”

“I can practically hear the gears turning. Stop thinking. Be here. With me. Right now.”

I blinked, realizing I’d spaced out. A slow smile spread over my face. “You’re demanding.” I liked it. I wasn’t used to men taking control. That was my job. But maybe, only with him, I could learn to let go.

“I’m an asshole,” he told me with a shrug. “That’s just part of it.”

“Hmm. Okay, asshole.”

He chuckled and the sound rumbled through me. I felt it between my legs.

“Now,” he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “If you’ll stop thinking so damn much, I can eat your pussy.”

“By all means. Don’t let me stand in your way.” My voice was breathless with anticipation.

With a chuckle, he dropped down between my legs. His tongue slid through over my pussy and I moaned. My hips came up, my hands going to his head to keep him in place.

“More,” I groaned.

This time his chuckle vibrated against my skin and my eyes dropped close. His hands clamped around my thighs, his fingers digging in as he ate me. I couldn’t keep still.

When his tongue hit my clit I groaned from the wash of pleasure. “Oh fuck,” I hissed.

He worked his tongue and lips, teeth and fingers over my pussy and it was too much. My thighs began to shake. He slid one long finger inside me and made a motion that had my back arching. The sensations were too much. Too good. He used his free arm and anchored it over my hips, pinning me down to the bed as his tongue swirled around my clit.

He teased and tormented, bringing me to the peak, only to slow orchange the rhythm, forcing me to start again. It was hell. It was heaven.

I wanted to claw his eyes out, but I was too busy fisting the blankets and sheets. Too busy trying to catch my breath as he worked my body as though he’d known me forever. “Stop,” I growled when he slowed once more.

I felt his smile more than saw it, but he listened for once. He went back to circling my clit and thrust a second finger into me.

“Yes,” I gasped. “Butcher!” His name was a scream as I exploded.

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