Page 53 of Threads Of Madly Whispers

Nothing about this kiss is holy nor sweet. He takes me with every breath he steals, leaving no space between us. I hold on to each second as if it were my last, and as the world fades into nothing, it is only him and me, lost in a place of our own making.

My hands move through his hair, loosening the careful knot he tied there. Soft strands slip betweenmy fingers as I pull, and a flicker of fire stirs inside me. A shiver rises along my spine, spreading like a whispered promise.

Without breaking our kiss, he lifts me, and I wrap my legs around him. Thunder crashes, shaking the river and sending birds into the sky. My mind turns hazy, and when the air becomes too thin, I pull back just enough to breathe.

I lay my head on his shoulder, so beguiled by his beauty that I show no regard to the doors he opens, nor the stairs we take one at a time leading to his room. Not until I’m thrown on to his bed with my wet clothes sticking to my skin.

“Lord, you are a sight to envy,” he breathes, his eyes raking over me with a longing that sends a thrill through my body. He quickly slips off his coat and hurriedly shuffles out of his boots, and in his rush, my legs are pulled to the edge of the bed. A soft whimper escapes my swollen lips, and my body hums with anticipation and excitement . The lust in his eyes must surely mirror my own, each of us reflecting the ferocity that burns between us.

He comes closer, his lips hovering just inches from mine, his nose nuzzling gently against me before he captures my mouth with an animalistic growl. His woody, masculine scent overwhelms me, stirring a deep need to feel him inside me.

His lips make a wet trail down my chin, mapping every goosebump around my neck and over the curve of my boobs until he is buried between my thighs. He pulls my dress up and spreads my legs apart. His hands caress my flesh as my panties are torn off me with brutality. You would think he hates to see the flimsy material.

“That’s the second one.” I sit up on my elbows to peer at him.

“Perhaps if you wore none, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“You would rather I spend my days prancing about with nothing covering my —”I stifle a giggle as a smirk curls on his lips. “Such devious acts, Mr. Moretti,” I say, biting my lip as I curl a strand of hair around my finger.

“Whenever I part your legs, I want to see you bare, just for me.”

“And what happens if I refuse?”

“I can be cruel in your undoing.” His eyes glint with mischief.

The snide remark that sets on the tip of my tongue falls when he hungrily strokes me like a rapacious creature, tasting my lust for him with his tongue. His touch makes me blush in all the right places. My eyes roll to the back of my head as flames run down my body. He violently thrusts a finger inside me with a ferocious intent that makes my legs shake. He circles my clit, coating my arousal all over his fingers.

I feel like a book he has spread open, with his fingers running down its pages, over and over with so much tender roughness. I cannot get enough, and neither can he. Sebastian makes love to me with his mouth, biting, bruising, and licking me until I’m seeing stars and the fire inside me swallows me whole in an earth shuttering release, forcing an unbashful moan past my lips.

This is what I need from him. Rough kisses until we’re a breathless mess. Throat pulling and hair grabbing. I crave the sweet pain only he can make me feel. To tremble at his voice and whimper to his touches.

“You taste of pure poetry and god do I want those filthy lips wrapped around my cock,” he growls.

My dress is ripped off my body, leaving me bare to his liking. The material sits under me and a slight chillsettles on my flesh.

“Then force me to my knees,” A sinister depravity flashes in his eyes.

“Soon, Wild Rose but not until your blood has stained my cock.”

What a foul, foul mouth he has, and what a shame how his dirty whispers and sweet nothings leave me trembling with desire.

His hands work at his shirt, undoing each button with ease. The room is bathed in darkness, save for the flickering candlelight and the soft glow of the moon spilling through the curtains. Which makes the scene rather romantic.

“Candles?”

“The lights went out a while back.” He pulls down his pants.

His muscular arms stretch over the bed’s wooden posters when he reaches for them. Intricate tattoos that I can not tell where one begins or ends, paint his flesh. All of them adorned with black ink, from his neck and arms like an art piece. My hands itch to feel over them all day long, to learn what each means and why.

I reach to feel his skin under my touch. His brawny arms, his chiseled abs, his thick —, he grips my wondering hand before I can wrap it around his pierced coc?—

“Lay back, I cannot take a second longer without being inside you.” he almost sounds like he’s begging.

“Neither can I,” the words that flow past my lips are unruly.

I lay down, zeal and fear coiling around me. He has quite the girth with a dazzling piercing hooked at his tip.

“You’repierced,” I breathe, my voice coming out in a gasp.

---