The thought of her arousal building as she read, of her fingers working frantically to chase her release, has me achingly hard. I want to wake her, to recreate this scene and show her how much more intense reality can be compared to fiction. To hunt her through the shadows of her own home before claiming her against the wall, the floor, every surface until she's marked as mine, ours, inside and out.
With tremendous effort, I tear my eyes from the page and look back at Rayne, who is still passed out. Is she dreaming of us? Or the scene she read earlier? Of being pursued and possessed so completely?
Chapter 15
Knox
Mycontrolhangsbya thread as I set the book down and move closer to the bed, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Carefully, reverently, I grasp the edge of the sheet pooled around her waist. With excruciating slowness, I begin to drag it down her body, exposing inch by delectable inch of her skin to my hungry gaze.
She doesn't stir, her breaths remaining deep and even as the sheet slides lower, revealing the gentle swell of her stomach before reaching the tempting shape of her hips. I hold my own breath, pulse thundering in my ears as I guide the fabric lower, anticipation coiling tighter within me.
When the sheet at last falls away completely, I can't bite back the rumble of approval that escapes my chest. Of course she would sleep in nothing more than a thin camisole and basic cotton panties–her body no doubt so hot that even that scant covering would have felt stifling against her flushed skin after her earlier ministrations.
My eyes rake over every inch of her, committing the sight to memory. The gentle curves capped by the peaks of her breasts, straining against the flimsy fabric. The juncture of her thighs, concealed yet hinting at the treasures hidden by the damp cotton clinging there. She's a living, breathing goddess lying before me, and the fact that she belongs to me, to us–that she simply doesn't know it yet–is almost too much to bear.
Moving with the silent grace of a predator, I reach out with one hand, allowing my fingers to brush over the scrap of material shielding her from my view. She doesn't even twitch at the featherlight caress, chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. Emboldened, I hook my fingers into the waistband of her underwear, tugging it just enough to reveal a glimpse of those wet folds nestled in a thatch of dark curls.
A tremor races through me at the sight, my cock straining painfully against the confines of my jeans. But I refuse to rush, to miss a single moment of baring her to my hungry eyes. With a slow, steadying breath, I ease the cotton down over the lush swell of her hips, down the lengths of her thighs, until it joins the sheet in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed.
"Such a good girl," I murmur, my voice a rumbling purr of approval as my hand returns to between her parted thighs. "You were thinking of us, weren't you?" One calloused finger traces along her slick heat, a featherlight caress that has her back arching infinitesimally off the bed.
I dip lower, circling her entrance with maddeningly light strokes, just barely dipping inside to gather her arousal on my fingertips. Her breath hitches, her thighs tensing as though seeking more friction, more pressure, but I deny her. Bringing my glistening digits to my lips, I taste her—that rich, tangy flavor I've already become addicted to.
A ragged groan tears from my chest as I savor her on my tongue. I need more.
Moving with exquisite care, I shift onto the bed, my weight causing the mattress to dip. Rayne doesn't stir, lost in the depths of her dreams as I position myself between her parted thighs. Up close, her scent is utterly intoxicating—a heady blend of arousal and feminine musk that has my mouth watering in anticipation.
Slowly, reverently, I trail my hands up the silken expanse of her thighs, pushing them wider to grant me unfettered access. Another soft sound escapes her lips as I expose her delicate folds, but she doesn’t stir. I can't resist leaning closer, breathing her in as I commit every detail to memory. I allow the pads of my fingers to brush along her slick entrance, smearing the evidence of her desire. She shifts again, arching a little as her lips part on a breathy sigh that sends a tremor of need lancing through me. But still, she doesn't wake.
Inch by torturous inch, I sink two fingers into her velvet heat. She's scorching, her inner walls fluttering and clenching around the intrusion in her sleep. Carefully, I begin to thrust, savoring the lewd sounds of her arousal that fill the thick silence. Her hips roll subtly to meet each languid stroke, chasing the friction even in unconsciousness.
"That's it, baby girl," I rasp, the endearment falling from my lips in a rumbling purr. "Let me take care of you."
Using my thumb, I seek out the swollen bud of her clit, brushing it with the barest whisper of a touch. Instantly, Rayne's breath hitches, her back arching as her hips twitch, seeking more of the feeling I’m giving her. I keep the contact light and teasing, circling around the sensitive nub without ever applying direct pressure. She writhes beneath me, soft sighs and breathy mewls spilling from her parted lips as I steadily work her higher.
"Do you dream of me, Rayne?" I murmur, leaning so close that my lips ghost along her tender flesh with each word. "Of the things I could do to this perfect body?"
With each thrust of my fingers, I curl them slightly, searching...seeking...until I find that place inside her that makes her whimper, her thighs tensing around me. There. Her release will be exquisite.
I settle into a steady rhythm, fucking her with my fingers, my mouth so very close to tasting nirvana as it hovers over where my fingers are buried inside her. Her head shifts against the pillow as her release builds. She's exquisite like this—lost to the pleasure I'm giving her, unaware of how intently I'm watching. Drinking in every flutter of her lashes, every hitch of her breath, every subtle shift of her body as she chases her release. This moment is mine to savor. This pleasure is mine to give.
With one last deliberate curl of my fingers, I find that place inside her that shatters her control. Rayne's back bows as she crests. But no cries, no moans escape her parted lips. She shatters in utter silence, her inner walls pulsing and fluttering around my thrusting digits as wave after wave of release washes over her.
I can't tear my eyes away, enraptured by the play of rapture across her features, by the way her body writhes and shudders through the force of her orgasm. She's ethereal in this moment, transcendent. Lost to everything but the blinding ecstasy I've brought her.
Only when the last tremors fade and her body stills do I slowly withdraw my fingers, slick with her arousal. Gently, reverently, I spread her thighs wider, baring her to my hungry gaze. Rayne’s body sinks deeper into the bed once more, her chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. She's utterly unaware as I lower my mouth to her, my tongue lapping at her swollen folds in long, indulgent strokes.
She tastes of pure, carnal bliss. Musky and rich and so very her. I can't get enough, devouring every last trace of her release from her tender flesh. Her thighs tense briefly at the first swipe of my tongue, but she doesn't wake, just a soft whimper escaping her as I lave at her entrance with broad, unhurried strokes.
It's only when I'm certain I've licked her clean that I finally force myself to pull away, my own harsh breaths loud in the stillness of the room. I retrieve her panties from where they'd fallen, slipping them into my pocket to keep as a prize. A wicked smile pulls at my lips at the thought of her waking, blissfully unaware, confusion flooding her when she can’t find them.
Rising from the bed, I drink in the sight of her once more. Rayne lies utterly spent, the sheet tangled around her feet, leaving her body shamelessly exposed. Satisfaction thrums through me at the sight.
Mine. Ours.
A low rumble of possession vibrates in my chest as I tear my eyes away and slip silently from the room. I will never get enough of her, of this. The hunger only grows, sharp claws sinking deeper into my being with each encounter. I want to drown in her, become utterly consumed until there is no line between us.
The realization should terrify me. But it doesn't.