Page 89 of Devil Mine

“I think I get an opinion,” I murmur roughly.

Then I yank the bottom of her blouse out of her skirt and shove it up over her breasts, revealing tight nipples straining against a black lace bra. My hands still clutch her waist, my thumbs nearly connecting in the middle of her stomach, and I run them unhurriedly up the expanse of her skin, reveling in being able to touch her like this.

Staring up at her, I bend my head and press my lips hotly against her lower belly. Her muscles tighten in response, goosebumps erupting across her skin before my eyes. Moving down, I press a kiss over her covered pussy.

She shivers, running her hands through my hair and grasping the thick strands tightly. I keep kissing every inch of her skin, moving from her lower belly up to her abdomen, to the area just beneath her covered breasts where I can feel the way her heart beats erratically for me.

“You taste so fucking good,” I purr, voice muffled against her skin.

She gasps in a breath, eyes closed, brow drawn down in rapture. “Focus,” she manages to rasp out.

Grabbing the forgotten liquor bottle, I pour a continuous stream into her navel and lick it up, tongue digging into her belly button and lapping up the liquid as if I was eating her out.

Tess thrashes beneath me, body writhing and arching up into my face, then away when the sensations get to be too much. It takes everything in me not to reach between her legs and plunge my fingers into her tight pussy.

Finally, I pull back and wipe my own mouth, looking down at my wife splayed out on the floor beneath me. Hair spread every which way, her clothes pushed up indecently, liquid glistening on her skin and covering the floor.

“I disagree,” I say hoarsely, licking my lips. “I think it tastes much better on your skin. I might have to exclusively drink it this way from now on.”

Eyes so innocent they seem overwhelmed by how turned on she is meet mine and undo me. Leaning back over her, I bury my face in the crook of her neck and lick at the mark I left there a few days ago. I’d been like some kind of animal with his mate, desperate to leave a mark that showed all other lurking predators she was mine.

Clearly I let my passion run away from me because the bruise is as vivid today as it was when I first bit her five days ago. I lap at it gently, soothingly, groaning as I do so.

“You’re so vocal.” She whispers it tremulously, voice uneven.

“I make my pleasure known,” I say, every word shaking with the force of my desire. “You have no idea the noises I’ll make for you,amor. Panting for you. Moaning your name. Gasping and cursing as I come in your tight pussy.” I murmur against the shell of her ear, “I’m not going to hold anything back.”

“Oh, God,” she moans back, her legs tightening around my waist.

“I can prove it to you right now.” Tess yelps when I bite her earlobe. “All you need to do is ask,” I coax.

Her hands come up to my nape, one tangling in my hair and pulling my face closer against her as I kiss her open throat, her collarbone, her shoulder.

“Do it,” she whispers, like she’s ashamed.

I growl angrily, moving lower until I’m between her breasts. I grope one in each hand, pushing them up and burrowing my face between those lush peaks.

So fucking close.

“Not until you ask.”

Come on, ask me to fuck you.

“Just do it.”

“No.”

She makes a frustrated sound, one caught between desire and refusal to give in to what her body wants. To what we’re both dying for.

“I won’t touch you until you own up to it, until you give up on this silly game of pretending like you don’t want it. When I finally fuck you, I won’t have any part of you hiding from me.”

She hesitates, eyes closed as she vacillates between two decisions.

I hold my breath.

Her lips part… and then shut.

Eventually, I feel her shake her head.

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