Page 179 of Flirting with Darkness

Faolán’s eyes popped open, and he pulled away just far enough to speak. “What do you mean, ‘not bad’?” Then his eyes widened as he saw the makeshift weapons trained on him. He went very still.

“He isn’t hurting me, House.”

The weapons sank an inch but didn’t return to their homes.

Seemed that was enough for Faolán, because he gripped my thighs afresh and thrust his tongue into my pussy.

“Oh!” My leg shot out as I made a sound that was almost a note from a song.

House’s weapons rose again, trained on him.

“Not hurting,” I huffed out as every part of me tensed, pulling that low-in-my-belly tightness from in the bath towards the peak I sought. “These aren’t bad cries.”

His tongue delved deeper inside—deeper than I thought possible. Had it just got longer? But then he curled it forward, and I no longer cared because he hit a spot that made sparks rain across my vision.

The weapons hovered.

“Not bad cries…” I panted, teetering, tightening, desperately trying to cling to my line of thought and ability to speak. “But good.” The last word came out on a groan as my fingers knotted into his hair.

The weapons lowered an inch.

“So… fucking… good.”

A hum of pride from Faolán reverberated into me, and I exploded on his tongue.

Behind my eyelids, flame roared, like a scoop of flour thrown over fire—bright, consuming, terrible, glorious. My body was everything, nothing, scattering apart like that same flour, drifting on the wind, then burnt to ash.

But Faolán didn’t let the tension fade there. When I dragged my eyes open, the weapons had vanished, and he was still driving his tongue into me, through me. Merciless. So beautifully cruel.

Only this time, his molten hazel eyes were on me, watching as the tension built and I arched, and he stoked my flames higher, higher, higher. With a low sound of satisfaction, he palmed my breasts and ran a blunt claw over my nipple with pressure that was just the right side of pain.

I fell apart again, unable to do much more than whimper on an outward breath that tore through me just as he did, pulling me apart with pleasure until there was only that and his eyes on me, the flesh around them crinkling as he smiled against my pussy.

Head lolling, I sagged against the chair.

“Faolán.” This time it wasn’t a plea, but gratitude.

Except, he didn’t stop. Instead, he hooked my thighs over his shoulders—I was too spent, too boneless to resist—and feasted all the harder, his lips closing around my clit as he sucked and flicked with his rough tongue.

He didn’t stop until I came another two times and whimpered that I could take no more.

I’d never done such a thing and would’ve sworn an hour ago that I never would. But here I was, begging him to stop.

He smiled and licked his lips clean. All that must’ve addled my mind, because I was sure he did it with a tongue that was too long.

I blinked, and it was gone before he kissed me so gently, so sweetly that I had to wonder if this was the same man who’d invaded my mouth and core with such merciless command. The honey of his lips mingled with my musk, a heady, private taste whose sharing felt even more intimate than everything else he’d done to me.

“Is my wife satisfied?”

He asked it to check whether he could take his own pleasure now. Hells, he’d more than earned it, and I still stood by my earlier thought that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to me. My limbs felt like jelly—pretty sure they no longer contained bones—so I wouldn’t make much of a partner, but I could try to please him as he had me.

So I nodded.

He smiled, the expression as gentle as that last kiss. “Good.” He pressed his lips to my brow and gathered me into his arms.

With a sigh, I snuggled into his warmth and strength, revelling in the feel of him all around me.

While I drifted in and out of a blissful haze, he tucked me into bed and pulled off his shirt. If my muscles had cooperated, I would’ve explored the planes of his chest that I’d so admired, but I could only watch his body through my heavy lashes. He tucked into bed beside me, wearing those lightweight shorts, and put his arm around me, making the crook between his arm and chest my pillow.

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