Page 142 of Even Vampires Bleed
As much as that idea turns me on, I comply and let him remove my shorts.
If our kisses had some urgency to them, it’s all gone.
Now it feels like Léandre wants to savor the fact that we’re finally together—I know, the fault is mostly mine—and I can’t agree more.
He takes all his time to look at me, and I’m seconds away from squirming from how tight my body is strung and how much I need him.
But I made him wait. I left him in the middle of the night when he was finally opening up and even if I had my reasons, I give him that.
I give him the opportunity to stare at my naked body when he’s still almost completely dressed, and all I want is for him to touch me instead of just looking at me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says a second time before he kneels at the edge of the bed.
I rise onto my forearms and look at him from above.
“Are you going to keep staring, or are you finally going to eat me out?” I ask with a bit of sass.
“So demanding,” he says, amused.
He grabs my right knee and I think he’s going to make me open my legs more, but instead he kisses the inside of my knee and then keeps trailing open mouth kisses up my thigh, smearing some of our combined blood on me.
When he reaches my pussy, he doesn’t even stop and kiss me there. Instead, he drops my knee to the side and turns his head to do the same on the inside of my other thigh.
I’m squirming.
I’m so freaking hot and wet.
And so freaking needy.
I want his mouth on me.
I want it like I want my next breath.
But he’s having none of that, having decided to take his time.
And torture me.
Yes, this is torture.
This is payback, because we could have been together long ago, I’m sure of it.
I hear him chuckle against my skin, and then he brings my knee to his shoulder.
“So fucking wet for me,” he whispers before he grabs my other leg and brings it to his shoulder.
“Now, scream for me, Firefly,” he says as he blows on my clit and then dives in.
His words barely register as I’m already a moaning mess.
He grips my butt cheeks and lifts me up so it’s easier for him, but damn, he devours me like a starving man.
Alternating between licking my pussy like it’s his favorite meal and sucking on my clit like he could swallow it all.
I moan his name. I pant his name. And surely I scream it, too, because by the time my body’s pleasure climbs in a crescendo and explodes, leaving my entire body convulsing against his mouth, my voice is raw and scratchy.
Léandre releases my legs—that probably tried to crush his head when I came—and looks at me again.
“Look how beautiful you are when you come with my name on your lips,” he says and his tone is almost smug, but it’s also full of wonder, like he can’t believe I’m here with him.
