Page 29 of Heartless Game

Fuck fuck fuck.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Sharp. Sweet. And raw. Tovah tasted like every fear I’d ever had, and every desire I’d ever ignored. She tasted the way the sun must taste on your skin, when you know it’s going to burn you painfully but you want it to bathe you in its rays anyway.

She tasted likemine.

Making a novel sound low in my throat, I gripped her thighs and lifted them as I bent my head down, biting her bare ass cheek hard in reprimand for making me feel so out of control.

And then I got my face between her thighs, buried my nose in her pussy, and, well, I don’t know how else to describe it.

I ate.

It was a slaughter and my last meal, all in one. I hunted for her taste, licking it off her mound, her lips, biting into her thighs as if it might be there, searching deep inside her with my tongue for every last drop. And when it seemed like I’d run out, I made sure there was more, using my fingers to draw circles over her clit, thrusting them inside her and teasing her G-spot until she convulsed and with a low, throaty, satisfying-as-fuck moan, came all over my face.

Just like I’d wanted.

Her orgasm wasn’t for her. It was for me. I’d discovered the best fucking tasting thing I’d ever gotten on my tongue, and I wasn’t giving it up for anything. I licked up her cum, without finesse or gentility. This wasn’t a wine tasting. This wasn’t even chugging a beer. This was a bloodbath. I didn’t know what would be left or if either of us would survive after I was done with Tovah’s cunt, or if I’d everbedone with Tovah’s cunt.

The girl in question was struggling against me. Maybe. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to get away or get closer, and I didn’t really fucking care either way. The Isaac Jones who gave a shit over concepts like consent didn’t exist anymore. Isaac Silver, on the other hand, didn’t give a fuck about anything but figuring out how to permanently attach Tovah Lewis’s pussy to his lips so he could drink down her cum and taste the essence of her sassy strength whenever he goddamned wanted. Oh, and maybe getting a recording of Tovah’s wild screams as she came multiple times, her thighs clamped around my head like my own personal pair of X-rated ear guards.

“Isaac, stop, please, I need?—”

I bit her thigh to shut her up.

“Don’t fucking interrupt me when I’m eating,” I growled like a fucking madman.

“It’s too much!” she cried.

“Sounds fake,” I said, before diving back into her cunt, in case there was a complexity to her flavor I’d missed the first time.

Finally, after a few minutes or a whole hockey season, I stopped. I hadn’t nearly had my fill, but sanity was slowly returning to me, reminding me that the woman attached to the pussy I was eating might need a break, based on her gasps and trembling thighs. The moment I released her, she slithered onto the counter in a heap like a rag doll.

“No more,” she cried brokenly against the counter. “Please, Isaac, no more. I can’t—it’s too much. It hurts.”

It’s not too much.

It’ll never be enough.

When it comes to you, I’ll always need more.

I swallowed down the words. What the fuck had gotten into me? The plan had been to keep Tovah from fucking up my life, not turn her into my new favorite meal. How many orgasms had I given her in my momentary lapse of sanity?

How had I lost control?

I stood back, crossing my arms over my chest to stop myself from reaching forward and helping her as she climbed down from the kitchen island. Standing on shaky legs, she turned around to look at me. Her face was flushed, her hair a sweaty, tangled mess.

I’d made her that way. The monster inside me practically snarled with triumph.

Instead, I sneered at her. “Go take a shower. You’re a fucking mess.”

Tovah stared at me like I’d grown two heads—and she’d happily decapitate them both.

“I’m sorry,” she said slowly. “You just made me come four timeswithout my permission, without listening to me when I told you to stop, and I’m the one who’s a,” she made air quotes, “fucking mess?”

I ignored her—the point she made, the validity of it, the guilt it stirred up in my gut.

“Bedroom’s on the second floor—first door to the right of the stairs. It has an en-suite. It should have everything you need for now but make a list of what you want and I’ll order it for you tomorrow. Or we can just go pick it up from your apartment.”

---