Page 83 of Fire and Silk
“You knew I would,” she says.
I smile. A slow, tired curl of the mouth that doesn’t quite touch my eyes. “I told you,” I murmur, “you’re hungry.”
Her breath hitches. And then it comes—barely a whisper but weighted like confession.
“Yes.” A pause. “Yes, I am.”
“I’ll feed you,” I whisper, so low it’s almost nothing. “Every day. Every time you let me.”
Her breath catches.
And I lean in and take her mouth.
She tastes like honey and salt, with a softer undercurrent that hits me like a revelation, unraveling a hunger I didn’t know I carried until this moment. Her mouth opens beneath mine, warm and yielding, moving with a rhythm that feels eternal, like we’ve been locked in this kiss across lifetimes. My hand glides up her arm, fingers brushing the edge of the bandage, tracing the delicate curve of her shoulder, feeling the heat of her skin under my touch.
She shivers as I ease the strap of her nightdress off, the silk slipping down to reveal her breast—full, flushed, achingly perfect. My gaze doesn’t waver, drinking her in as I lower my head, pressing a reverent kiss just beneath the curve, slow and deliberate. The sound she makes—soft, throaty, unguarded—sends a jolt straight to my core. Her fingers weave into my hair,not tugging, just anchoring, as if she’s clinging to me to keep from falling apart.
I sink to my knees before her, a supplicant to her altar. The nightdress gathers at her waist as I trail kisses down her belly, the softness of her skin making my teeth ache with want. I hook my hands under her knees, parting her thighs with a gentle but unyielding touch, my eyes locked on hers. Her gaze is dark now, molten, wild with something unspoken, and she doesn’t look away—not even for a second.
She’s bare beneath the silk, her skin glistening in the dim flicker of candlelight. I groan, low and raw, the sound escaping before I can stop it. My mouth finds her, tongue parting her folds with a slow, deliberate stroke, licking up the full length of her clit. Her gasp is sharp, thighs twitching under my grip, her body responding like it’s been waiting for me forever.
I drag my tongue through her again, deeper, savoring the slick heat, the musky warmth that floods my senses. Then I close my lips around her clit, sucking gently, holding her there as her hips jerk and a ragged moan spills from her throat. Her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling now, the sharp sting grounding me as her taste coats my tongue—sweet, salty, intoxicating. I feel the pulse of her, the heat radiating from her core, her breath hitching like she’s chasing something just out of reach.
I slide one arm under her thigh, hooking it behind her knee to spread her wider, her pussy opening to me like ripe fruit, flushed and soaked, her clit swollen and gleaming. I lower my mouth again, flattening my tongue against her in a slow, firm stroke, then swirling tight circles that make her cry out—a sound that cracks through the air and buries itself in my spine. Her thighs tremble, her heel dragging across the sheets as she opens herself further, greedy, unashamed.
I close my eyes and lose myself in her, learning her with every flick and stroke. Her breathing fractures, stuttering with each shift in rhythm—soft flicks that make her gasp, rougher strokes that draw curses from her lips. I want to know her completely—what makes her shudder, what makes her break, what makes her beg. I want her ruined for anyone else’s touch, her body tuned to my mouth alone.
Her hips lift, grinding against my tongue, chasing the pressure, and I let her move, loosening my grip just enough to give her control. Then I slide two fingers into her, slow and deliberate, feeling the tight, wet clutch of her cunt pulling me in. She moans—louder, raw—and I feel her pulse around me, her body trembling as I curl my fingers toward that soft, spongy spot inside her. Her sob is choked, desperate, her thighs snapping tight around my head, trapping me in her heat.
I suck harder, my tongue stroking in time with my fingers, curling them just right as her moans splinter into high, stuttering whimpers. She’s teetering on the edge, her body taut, and I press my mouth harder to her clit, relentless, sucking and stroking until she’s gasping, her cunt clenching around my fingers like a vise.
I pull back just enough to see her—her pussy slick and swollen, clit twitching, glistening with her arousal. My fingers are drenched, coated in her, and I slide them out slowly, watching the wetness string between us. I raise my hand to my mouth, sucking her taste off my fingers, groaning at the heat and salt that lingers on my tongue. Her eyes widen, dark and unblinking, as I lower my hand again, pressing those same fingers back into her.
She jerks, back arching off the mattress, a cracked “Fuck” spilling from her lips as I slide deep, my knuckles dragging alongher walls. She’s so tight, clenching hard, her hips twitching with every curl of my fingers. I lick her again, flattening my tongue over her clit while my fingers fuck her—hard, deep, twisting just enough to make her sob. Her thighs shake violently, her hands scrabbling at the sheets, one reaching up to grip her own breast, squeezing as if she’s desperate to anchor herself.
Her moans are loud now, messy, unraveling into something primal. She bucks against my mouth, and I don’t stop—sucking her clit, fingering her faster, the wet, filthy sound of it filling the room. Her body tenses, that tight coil just before release, and I curl my fingers harder, rubbing that spot inside her as my tongue circles her clit in tight, relentless strokes.
She snaps. Her cunt clamps down on my fingers, spasming as she sobs, her release crashing through her in a hot, gushing wave. I feel it—her body shaking, thighs wet, pussy twitching as she collapses back, legs splayed, too wrecked to move.
But she’s not done. Her eyes snap open, locking onto mine, dark and fierce, unyielding. Without a word, she sits up, grabbing my hand and bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue slides over my fingers, slow and deliberate, tasting herself as her eyes burn into mine. Then her hand wraps around my cock, and I grunt, low and raw, as her fingers close around me—tight, smooth, slick with my precum.
She strokes me, slow at first, then faster, her grip firm and unrelenting. My jaw clenches, my cock throbbing in her hand, heavy and painfully hard. She pulls me closer, her mouth open, tongue searching, kissing me like she’s claiming me—tasting herself on my lips, her hand still working me with a rhythm that makes my vision blur.
I groan into her mouth, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her flush against me. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, legs sliding around my hips, opening for me without hesitation. I don’t wait. I line up and thrust inside her, the heat of her cunt wrapping around me—hot, tight, fucking perfect. I push in slow but deep, burying myself until I bottom out, her moan vibrating against my ear as she clings to me.
“Shit,” I growl, my hand gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks. “You feel—fuck.” Words fail me as her cunt clenches around me, pulling me deeper. I draw back and thrust again, harder, her body jolting against mine. Her arms tighten around my neck, her breath hot against my throat as I set a rhythm—short, sharp strokes that make her gasp with every impact.
The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, raw and relentless. Her legs lock around my waist, heels digging into my back as she arches into me, meeting every thrust. Her cunt is so warm, so wet, gripping me like it doesn’t want to let go. Her moans are constant now, spilling against my ear, her nails raking down my back as she clings to me like I’m her lifeline.
But I want more. I slow my thrusts, pulling out almost entirely before sliding back in, deep and deliberate, making her feel every inch. Her head falls back, exposing the long line of her throat, and I lean in, dragging my tongue along her pulse, tasting the salt of her sweat. I bite gently, just enough to make her gasp, her cunt fluttering around me in response.
“More,” she whispers, voice hoarse, desperate. “Please.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I shift, hooking one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her wider. The angle changes, letting me drive deeper, and she cries out, her hands scrabbling at my shoulders. I fuck her harder now, each thrust slamminginto her, the wet sound of our bodies obscene and perfect. Her breasts bounce with every movement, her skin flushed and glistening, and I can’t look away.
Her moans grow louder, breaking into whimpers as I feel her tightening around me again, her cunt pulsing with every thrust. I slide a hand between us, finding her clit with my thumb, rubbing tight circles that make her sob. Her body arches, trembling, and I feel it—the moment she breaks again, her release crashing through her, her pussy spasming around my cock as she screams my name.
I don’t stop. I can’t. My thrusts grow erratic, the heat of her, the slick grip of her cunt driving me to the edge. Her nails dig into my back, her legs trembling as she clings to me, and I feel it building—hot, unstoppable. I bury myself deep, one last hard thrust, and I come, groaning her name as I spill inside her, my cock pulsing, filling her with heat.
