Page 73 of Brutal Devil
His fingers glide through my wetness, skimming over hot, aching flesh, until he finds his way to my other hole. He rubs over me lightly, then with increased pressure. I think about how it felt earlier, his finger fucking me there, and make a helpless noise. I like being at this man’s sensual mercy.
He doesn’t do anything more, just rubs over me there, and it feels foreign but good, and it’s not enough. My hips buck on their own, trying to get more of what I need.
I hope he doesn’t notice, but of course he does.
I hear a dark chuckle, and then he growls, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
I’m not. But I like that he said so. I like the reverence in his voice. I need to come so badly that it’s a physical ache, making me lose control. If I don’t have his tongue or his dick or his finger in me in the next sixty seconds, I’ll die.
“Fuck me,” I bite out. “Fuck me, Priest.”
“Good girl,” he praises.
And then he gives me what I want. His tongue sinks deep inside me as his finger presses with firm pressure, sinking into my ass. My thighs shake. The sensation is intense. I’m still sore there from what happened in the observation room, but it doesn’t matter. I love the way he feels, working into me with slow, masterful devotion. He starts fucking me with both finger and tongue, making low sounds of delight as he laps at my pussy and thrusts his finger in and out of me.
“Oh God.” I press my face into the sheets that smell like him, already on the edge of coming.
But he’s not ready for that yet.
He withdraws from me and flips me onto my back. I lie there, looking at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath, my body desperately needing more. He shifts so that he’s between my spread legs, his gaze hot and admiring, glued to me.
“Such a pretty pussy, baby. I need another taste.”
And then he dips his head, and his face is buried between my legs just like he warned me. It’s so much more real now that I can see him. I can’t hide my face in the sheets and pretend I’m not getting deliciously, wickedly fucked by a gangster.
No, it’s all him, his dark hair still damp, his beautiful face pressed against my bare pussy as he latches on to my clit and sucks hard enough to make my back bow. I should push him away and put an end to this madness, but I can’t.
Instead, I sift my fingers through his hair, cup the back of his head, and offer myself to him. He makes a deep sound of approval and guides my legs over his shoulders, his mouth never leaving me. Then he finds a particularly sensitive part of my clit and sucks there, while his finger presses back into my ass, and I come completely undone.
My orgasm is intense, hitting me so hard that all I can do is curl my toes into the comforter and scream out his name just like he said I would. A rush of wetness seeps from me, and he’s there, drinking it up with a victorious growl, his tongue sinking deep, thrusting in time to his finger.
I ride out the waves of my orgasm, trembling from the force of it as he withdraws and then yanks down his boxer briefs. His cock emerges, huge and beautiful, a bead of pre-come leaking from the tip. I want to taste it.
But before I can reach for him, he’s on me, his big body pinning me to the bed as he sinks his cock home in one thrust. He lowers his head to kiss the curve of my breast, to take a nipple into his hot, wet mouth and suck. I love the way he feels inside me, like his body was made for mine and mine for his.
He starts fucking me in earnest then, driving into me. Every thrust takes me closer to the ledge I already leaped off. I drag my nails down his back, wanting to mark him. To claim my territory. It makes him fuck me harder, faster, deeper. I’m sliding up the bed from the force, and then my head hits the headboard.
He releases my nipple and kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips, our tongues tangling. I’m vaguely aware of him positioning a pillow as a barrier between my head and the wooden bed frame. I wrap my legs around him and meet him thrust for thrust.
His lips leave mine, and he gazes down into my eyes. “I’m going to fill your pussy up with my come, and then while it’s still dripping out of you, I’m going to fuck you again.”
I come in the next second, clenching on his rampaging cock, breathing his name into his lips like a prayer.
“Fuck, baby.” His thrusts grow more frenzied. He grips my hip and slams into me as the pleasure soaks through me.
And then he’s coming too. Coming hard and fast, filling me up just like he promised. My pussy flutters around him, milking him, greedy for every last drop as he collapses atop me, his body heavy and warm and strangely comforting.
His heart pounds fast against me, his breathing as uneven as mine. I cling to him, holding tightly to his shoulders. He shifts, trying to relieve his weight, but I hold him tighter. It alarms me to realize I don’t want to let go. I don’t want this moment to end, him deep inside me, our hearts beating as one.
“Not yet,” I murmur.
He kisses me again, and it’s slow, deep, and possessive, like he’s fucking my mouth the way he just did my body. And then he rolls to his side, careful to keep us joined, and holds me in his arms, my face tucked into his neck.
We didn’t even bother to turn down the blankets, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not cold, and I have Priest to keep me warm.
My eyes grow heavy. I’m sated and blissed out. I allow them to flutter closed and fall asleep to the steady beat of my husband’s heart.
Chapter 18
