Page 223 of Red Ruin
So fucking hot.
I work the bit with my tongue, wetting the metal and letting my spit overflow. It drips into the leather.
Soaked.
Perfect.
IwantRemy to taste me.
I want to leave a part of myself with him so that he’ll never forget who owns his marble-sculpted ass.
When sand shakes from the hole above, announcing that Simms and Tan are almost here, I finally push away the mask.
Just one more thing.
I offer Remy my thumb. “Fang.”
Surprisingly obedient, he bites. His silky but controlled pierce leaves me shivering. A drop of blood beads at the tip.
I smear a red streak below the nose hole and just behind the bit, at the seam of the leather. He’ll scent my blood but won’t be able to lick it clean.
“You torture me,” Remy sighs, but his smile isn’ttorturedat all.
“You like it.”
“Very much.” He ducks his head.
I flip the mask around and help him strap it on. When the clasps are tightened, black leather tightly seals his chin, throat, and the bottom half of his face. Over his mouth, Strips of metal and leather are layered to look like savage fangs.
Remy’s eyes flame.
The mask shifts from the movement of his lips.
He’s sucking off my spit.
Obscene.
Vhex rumbles with jealousy.
“Unfair.” He snatches my thumb and sucks it between his lips. Licking, sucking, teasing with his fang.
He’s not wrong.
I let Vhex have his taste, stroking his horn while I straighten his tangles.
All totally on-the-clock Guide behavior.
Ha. Right.
I only pull away when Simms and Tan drop down.
They brush off dust, then turn to face the obvious path ahead.
A beacon of undead power throbs as if the lich king is inviting us deeper into his prison.
“At least we won’t get lost,” Tan mutters, rubbing his arms.
I don’t bother stretching out my silks. The miasma numbs my spiritual senses—half frostbite and half rusty fork scraping a plate.
