Page 75 of Ash and Feather

The images became clearer. Visions of her kneeling before me. Then me before her. And then…

My pulse quickened. “You’re actively trying to torture me, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

As if she didn’t know.

“You weren’t listening when I told you to be careful of what you thought about.”

“Wasn’t I?”

I ran a hand along the curve of her breast, finding her hardened tip once more and giving it a flick. “Wicked thing.”

She smiled. “So we’re getting better at communicating through our thoughts. Which means this still counts as practice, I think.”

“I feel like we’re moving outside the realm of the training we’d planned on.”

“Maybe. I’m always trying to improve inallareas, though.”

“I don’t believe you need training in this particular area, for what it’s worth.” My voice dropped lower, thick with want as I took a handful of her hair in my fist and pulled her into a quick, rough kiss. “But if this is what you want, I’m still happy to provide guidance, of course.”

She kissed me back, her hands feeling their way over my pants, pulling them farther down until she’d freed my cock. Her hand wrapped around it, somewhat tentatively at first, but growing more confident as it gave an enthusiastic twitch beneath her warm touch.

I exhaled a slow, raspy breath.

Her eyes flashed up to mine. She licked her lips—a small, unconscious motion, but it undid the last of my restraint.

I gripped her hair more tightly in my fist and offered that guidance I’d promised, pulling her head downward. I needed her mouth around me.

Now.

She needed no more persuasion—or guidance, for that matter—as she ran her tongue along the length of my cock. Slowly. Tantalizingly.

Her hands joined in the stroking after a moment, closing around me once again and moving up and down in a perfect, excruciating rhythm. At the same time, her mouth teased the tip of me as she’d done with my fingers, lips brushing in the faintest of kisses before sucking and pulling away.

“Wicked thing,” I repeated in a growl.

It was an enormous test of control, fighting the urge to drive myself deep into her throat.

I couldn’t keep myself fromthinkingabout doing this, however—an image that grew bolder with every lash from her tongue and caress from her fingers, until I was sure she’d seen it clearly, judging by the way her strokes grew more purposeful. More persistent.

She adjusted her stance, sinking lower onto her knees so she could take more of me into her mouth. My thoughts seemed to implode, swallowed up by that mouth, lost in the wake of her touch.

With slightly shaking fingers, I pushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind her slender ears. Pieces of it slipped free again within moments. Wild. Beautiful. Messy.

“Look at me,” I commanded.

Her gaze fluttered up while her mouth continued to work. The sight of her like this—eyes heavy with lust, lips glistening, breasts heaving—was one of the most beautiful fucking things I’d ever seen.

I wasn’t going to last as long as I wanted if we kept this up, so I pushed the loose strands of her hair back once more, cradled her face more gently, and eased her away from me.

“As much as I love the idea of dripping down your throat,” I ground out, “I think we have more things we shouldpractice.”

She responded by resisting my touch, leaning up and taking half my length into her mouth once more, gripping the other half with soft yet certain hands.

After a moment, she pulled up slowly, eyes fixed on my face the entire time, and I nearly lost myself in the rush of hunger that radiated through me.

Wicked thing, indeed.

---