Page 75 of Widow's Walk

I climb over him with calculated movements, straddling his hips with my knees tucked around his sides. His body stiffens instantly, and his hand shoots up like instinct, clamping around my throat. His eyes wild and vigilant.

I don’t flinch.

We just stare at each other.

The room is bathed in low amber light, the soft glow catching on the sweat beading at his temples, the harsh cut of his jaw, the faint red rim of sleep-deprived eyes.

My heavy breathing picks up with his. His hand tightens, thumb pressed to my pulse. Like he’s waiting for me to crack. To run. To prove I’m still the danger he thinks I am. But I don’t.

Instead, I lean down slowly, letting my lips hover over his. Close enough to touch but not touching. Just enough space to feel the heat. Just enough to make his pupils deepen.

Then I kiss him. Slow. Sure. Seething with every unspoken word we’ve both been swallowing for so long.

He doesn’t hesitate. He kisses me back with all the torment he’s been bottling up, with all the questions neither of us knows how to ask, and all the answers we’re too afraid to give.

This could be a mistake. But right now, it’s the only thing making any sense. And neither of us is willing to stop. It’s far too late for that.

My hips begin moving, grinding into him. His hands vanish into my hair while mine roam the hard lines of his chest and abs. Tracing the jagged edges of the heart I gave him.

Then I tear my lips from his, and we pause, breathing heavily, eyes dark and drowning. He’s almost wrecked when I remove myself, but it’s fleeting when I drop to my knees and go for the waist of his pants. The moment my fingers brush the silk of his length, his eyelids droop.

I’ve only done this a few times. I’ve always felt it degrading. On my knees, their cock shoved down my throat. As if they werein control. But the way Blackwell is quickly unraveling right before me, watching my hand as if it were hypnotizing, I see it everywhere in his face. In his mouth, by the way his bottom lip hangs slack, as shallow breaths come in short repetitions. In his cheeks as they flush. Even his body slumps like he’s been darted by yours truly again.

I see that it’s I who is in control.

Wrapping my fingers around his cock, I stroke the soft skin, paper-thin, stretched over the firmness. I gawk at it and pull up and down with a closed fist. His breath hitches, and my eyes snap up to his. He’s now watching me with a daring look.

I focus on his cock again, my hand stroking it, and a bead of cum dribbles out of the top. It glistens like a beacon, causing me to lick my lips, suddenly famished.

When I close my lips around him, he hisses through his teeth, and his hands fly up to my hair. His fingers flex, but he doesn’t fist it. He simply cradles my head as I begin to bob my head up and down. Taking him as far back as I can, then sliding it along by tongue back to the tip.

“Fuck,” he whispers, followed by muttered words in Farsi. To hear him muttering words uncontrollably, it does something to me. Something I could never try to explain. But it has me working him harder. Desperate to bring him endless pleasure.

His fists curl, and my head is yanked back, his cock popping out of my mouth. He glowers down at me as he holds me there, still on my knees. It was so abrupt, I can only gawk up at him, silently questioning if I had done something wrong.

His grip on me softens the same time his face does. “Come here,” he rasps, reaching for me.

I meet him halfway, standing to my feet, and he pulls me over his lap, my knees hugging his hips. His fingers disappear into my hair again, gentle yet with sexual intent. We’re both transfixed,unable to look away. Then he breaks a smile and pulls me in for a searing kiss that has my toes curling and my hips rocking.

His tongue licks mine and he uses one hand to cup my ass, lifting me. I reach between us to angle his cock, and he fists my ass to slam me down on it.

The air catches in my lungs as my body takes over, doing whatever feels so natural. Bouncing up and down, my arms wrapped around his neck. Our kisses become sloppy and uncoordinated, and I have to break away to breathe.

My head falls back, and my mouth drops open as pleasure blooms in every inch of my body. It really is like a fucking high when he’s inside me. As if I would do anything for this feeling.Anything.

He drags his lips and teeth and tongue along the column of my neck, and I feel myself creeping towards the edge. I crane my neck forward, and my forehead touches his. Our faces tilted slightly downward to watch, mesmerized by where our bodies come together. My pussy wrapped snuggly around his cock. The length of him sliding in and out. Shiny and wet.

We pant in tandem, and my muscles begin to coil as I teeter on that cliff, so close to the precipice. He takes over, fisting my ass, and thrusting his hips upwards when my body locks up, continuing to fuck me.

I moan and whimper through it, then find his mouth with mine to kiss him unhurriedly while I quiver over him. My body gives a couple more twitches, then my eyes pop open as I’m airborne.

He strategically places me up on my knees on the cushion of the loveseat, my back to him. My head falls back on instinct when he comes up behind me. His body connects with mine, and he kisses my shoulder where my robe has slid off. His arms wrap around me, and he fists one breast, and his other hand coastsdown the center of my body where my robe splays open, and his fingers meet the apex of my thighs.

His lips trail lazily all over me as he starts playing me like a fucking fiddle with his skilled fingers. “Sinclair,” he whispers in my ear, sending a physical chill over me and a wave of arousal.

With his fingers still moving, he slips his cock back inside of me and presses in until his hips meet my ass. Then his other hand clamps down on my hip, and he begins slamming into me. My ass slapping against him and my breasts bouncing heavily.

I moan when he removes his hand from between my thighs to hold my throat. His fingers wrapped around, giving it a firm grasp. It bleeds more lust from me than when his hand was on my pussy. The animality and carnality of it.

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