Page 29 of Bewitched By the Phantom
“Oh, god,” I groan as his hand strokes up my side and over to under my breast. His thumb brushes my flesh there, driving me insane.
His dark chuckle against my skin sends me into overdrive as his hand start to trail lower, to the waistband of my jeans. He continues to sing a concert for only me, his voice like electricity across my skin. His words wash over me, until I’m desperate for him, until I’m clenching my fists at my sides to keep from ravishing him.
“Strike the chord, I’ll follow under, your pulse, my lightning, your breath, my thunder. One note deeper, don’t look down. We’re past the point of turning ‘round.” His hand dips beneath my waistband and strokes down, his fingers testing my wetness. When he finds me dripping, his words become a little more choked, a little rougher. “Kiss me once in minor key, then drown me in your melody. We’re not alive, we’re not alone, just flesh and fire and undertone.”
I turn my head as his fingers stroke around my clit and he immediately kisses me, his lips moving over mine, claiming me so thoroughly, I don’t remember why I was protesting something like this happening. I lose all sense of logic. I lose all sense of anything outside of this man serenading me and his hand stroking through my wetness. All I know is that I want him. And if that’s in a dusty room like this, I don’t give a single fuck.
I’m kicking off my slippers before I’m conscious of making the decision. His fingers stroke me, before pressing deeper and circling my entrance.
“I should have taken you to my room,” he groans against my lips.
“Too late,” I growl back. “We’re doing this.”
The growl that comes from his lips should be terrifying as I reach back and stroke his hardness through his pants. Instead, it only makes me want him more. When he reaches up and roughlygrabs me around the neck with his other hand, I don’t even care. He could strangle me right here and I’d still ask him for more.
“You deserve to be worshiped,” he groans.
“So, worship me,” I fire back.
The breath he draws in is shaky, but then he’s jerking his hand out of my pants and reaching for the fastening. I do my best to help him, shoving my pants down and kicking them off. I reach for his but he steps back just out of reach before shoving me backwards against the edge of a table coated with dust. It covers my hands as I brace myself on it.
“You owe me a taste,” he snarls at me, before kneeling. He shoves my legs open around his shoulders and gets a good look at how wet I am for him. The sound in his throat is feral as he leans forward. “Sing my name, angel. Feed me.”
I throw my head back with the first touch of his tongue to my core, my hand spearing into his hair and holding on for dear life. The shadows in the room seem to close in on us as he strokes me with his tongue.
“Erik,” I groan, and a soft glow comes from where he dips between my legs.
He moans in pleasure. “Feed me, angel. Let me feast on the sound of your voice saying my name.”
Weird way to put it, but I’m too far gone at this point, my body wound so tight from his expert movements that I lack all thought except, “obey.”
“Erik,” I say again. “Oh, god. Oh, fuck. Erik!”
He presses in deeper against my core and my legs begin to shake. His tongue twists and turns, rolls against my clit, until I can’t contain myself. I shatter against his lips, crying out in pleasure, lost in an ecstasy that he drags out.
He pulls away and stands, looming over me as he leans forward to capture my lips. I can taste myself there, along with something else. Something ancient. Something dark.
“You belong to me,” he growls against my lips. “As I belong to you.”
“I need you,” I rasp, reaching for his t-shirt. “Please.”
He hesitates. “This isn’t the place I imagined this moment in.”
“I don’t care. The important parts are here.”
“Like what?” he asks.
“You. Me.” I reach down and stroke him through his pants again. “This.”
He laughs. “I don’t think you’re prepared for the monster I become when I’m fucking, angel. My hunger can’t be sated so simply. And you? I’ve hungered for you for centuries.”
I don’t even question it anymore. It’s just Erik. “Please.”
“You don’t have to beg, angel,” he breathes. “I’d do anything you’d ask of me.”
“Then why aren’t you fucking me?” I growl, looking him in the eyes.
His expression darkens. “You want to be fucked? You want everyone to know the rumors are true?” He grabs at my shirt and jerks it up over my head, leaving me completely naked before he cups my breast. “You want me to make you scream loud enough they could put it in a song?”
