Page 65 of Possessive Vows

“Yes, please. More,” I demand.

He chuckles and licks the corner of my mouth before leaving a trail of kisses and licks to the shell of my ear.

“Unbutton your shirts, Camilla,” he rumbles.

I gasp as he takes my earlobe into his mouth and flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth over the sensitive flesh. Goosebumps travel across my nape and down my arms.

As he finds more erogenous zones than I thought could exist in my ear alone, I fumble through opening my coat and working it off my arms. By the time I finish unbuttoning my undershirt, he expands his sensual exploration to the side of my throat and swirls his tongue in teasingly light patterns on my sensitive jugular.

“Touch yourself,” he demands.

Worms crawl in my belly. I shake my head and tighten my grip in his hair. He closes his mouth on a particularly sensitive spot on the side of my throat and sucks with just enough pressure to scramble my thoughts.

“Not this time, then. Follow my lead, da?”

With a gentle nip, he moves to the other side of my throat and slowly lifts me to my feet using his hands in my hair. I scratch his scalp and shudder as cool air sneaks in through the opening of my shirt and brushes over my breasts.

He shuffles us over to the bench press and licks along my collarbone before lifting his head and stealing my breath with the hunger in his piercing blue eyes. As he sits at the end of the bench, he caresses my head and face before releasing me and lying on his back. His shirt falls open and dangles toward the floor while his pants tent from his massive, hard cock.

My core gives a desperate squeeze, and although nightmares and misery lurk in the recesses of my mind, the sight of him splayed out before me makes my entire body throb in want.

“Put your breasts to my mouth,” he demands.

My nipples harden in anticipation. I swallow and inch toward his side. He overflows the bench so much it looks like he’s floating in the air.

The bulge in his pants is too much of a temptation. I reach out and feel his impressive girth through the fabric. He groans and grips the edge of the bench underneath his ass as his cock jerks at my touch.

“Let me taste you first,so´lnyshka, then you can have your way with me. Come here, to my mouth. Give me whatever part you want me to lick and suck. I need to watch you fly apart on my tongue.”

Every thought in my head turns to mush. Normally a terse man, his dirty talk hits even harder with how raw and unfiltered it is.

Impatience steals the air from my lungs. I force my hand away from his cock, strip my shirt off, brace one palm on his bare chest and the other on the bench above his head before bending at the hips.

With his eyes transfixed on my breasts, I feel more beautiful than ever before. Even when I was modeling, I never saw myself as someone lustworthy, but his sensual eyes caress my flesh and fill me with pride.

I pause with my nipple an inch away from his lips and shiver as his breath ghosts over my skin. When he lifts his head, I spear my fingers into his hair and pin the back of his head to the bench.

He shifts his gaze to mine and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, tormenting me as I realize it could be my nipple instead.

I suck down a steadying breath and twist my fist in his hair.

“Give me your breast,so´lnyshka,” he murmurs.

His low command washes away my defiance. Instead of losing myself to fear and anguish, I slip into a submission with no boundaries because even though he’s prone underneath me, he dominates my mind with his stern words.

I lower my breast the last inch and moan as he curls his tongue around my nipple. Electricity zaps from my chest to my core before branching out and zinging all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.

With soft sucks and smooth flicks of his tongue, he explores every inch of my chest, guiding me in whichever direction he wishes to taste next, and before I know it, the pressure in my core threatens to burst.

He sheathes his teeth with his lips and bites my left nipple.

I squeak and jerk back, both annoyed and relieved when my orgasm slips away.

“Come back,so´lnyshka. I’m not done,” he growls.

My insides pulse, but as his eyes roam over my torso, unease creeps up my spine. The harsh lighting reveals every horrible scar left on my skin.

“Look at me, Camilla,” he demands.

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