Page 95 of Butcher & Blackbird
My insolence is met with a growl. Rowan’s hand darts to my throat and catches the giggle that begs to be set free.
“Are you being a brat?” he asks as I run my tongue along the underside of his erection and pin him with my most innocent eyes. His hand tightens. “Have you forgotten the last time you were a brat?”
I shrug, even though I most certainly havenotforgotten. When I decided to push his buttons and disregard most of his orders while riding his cock a few weeks ago, he kidnapped me as I was coming home from drinks with Anna, blindfolded me, and strapped me down on a table in the restaurant to eat a full range of delicacies off my naked body. He edged me forhours, drizzling caramel sauce across my nipples to suck it off as he fucked me, dripping cold whipped cream onto my genital piercings before licking them clean. Every time I begged for mercy, he laughed.
“Good girls get rewards,” he’d said as he turned down the vibration on the anal plug he’d pushed into my ass after he’d tied me down. He slowed the rhythm of his strokes as he thrust into me, pulling me back from the brink of an orgasm. “Brats receive punishment.”
He’d slid out of me, jerked off until he sprayed his cum in warm spurts across my chest, then started all over again.
It probably had the opposite effect of what he intended, because I hadthe besttime that night.
“That’s your answer?” he says now, his eyes lethal and dark. “Just a shrug? That seems pretty bratty to me.”
I sigh and lick my way back to the crown of his erection as I cup his balls.
“I might have lied about the appointment time,” I reply as I stroke the length of his cock and lavish the tip with a swirling lick. “We have an extra hour.”
My eyes stay fused to Rowan’s face as this information settles into his endorphin-flooded brain.
“Oh thank fuck,” he finally says, and plunges into the heat of my mouth. “Make yourself come or I swear to God I am going to steal you away to some remote cabin and punish you for three days.”
Rowan Kane, always threatening me with a good time.
He loosens his grip on my throat but keeps me steady as I kneel before him and take his cock as deep as I can. It hits the back of my throat and my garbled, choked sounds spur the rhythm of his thrusts. With my other hand, I plunge my fingers into my pussy until they’re coated in my arousal and the cum he already spilled into me earlier.
My slick fingers withdraw, and then I move my touch to Rowan, finding the pleated rim of his ass. He shudders as I massage the tight ring, and then I push a finger inside.
“Oh holy shit, Sloane—”
“Are you using your safe word?”
“Fuckno.”
I grin and add a second finger, gently stroking until I find the touch that makes him tremble. “What a good boy,” I coo, my tone saccharine. “And good boys get rewards.”
My lips seal around his cock and I suck.
An uninhibited sound of pleasure rumbles from Rowan’s chest as I fuck him with my fingers and swallow his erection. With my other hand, I circle my clit, climbing closer to the orgasm I know he’ll demand of me. And as I feel his body coil tight, that’s exactly what he does.Demands.
“Blackbird, you’d better come right the fuck now because you arekilling meand I swear to fucking God—”
I fall apart with his cock plunged to the back of my throat, my whimpering moan a vibration that surrounds his length.
His words set me off every time.
A breath later, Rowan growls as his hot cum floods my mouth. I swallow every drop and draw out his pleasure until I’m sure he’s spent, a thin sheen of sweat glistening across his naked chest with his shuddering breaths.
“We’ve gotta go,” I say with a devious smile as I withdraw my fingers from his ass. “We’re going to be late.”
Rowan gives me a flat glare that doesn’t last, then presses a kiss to my forehead before we clean ourselves up, get dressed, and rush out the door.
Every step we take in the warm June sun has my heart hammering, not with anxiety, but with excitement. If Rowan is nervous, he doesn’t let on. He tells an animated story about Lachlan from when they were teenagers as we walk the city streets, our fingers interlaced, my other hand braced around the largest scar on the inner surface of his forearm. The night it happened, Fionn had meticulously treated the wound and used Dermagraft to replace the missing tissue, and Rowan was diligent about taking care of it from that night on. And soon, the scar will be transformed into something beautiful.
He’ll love it. I know he will.
We stop at Kane Atelier on the way to our appointment, entering the shop to the scent of leather and the sound of indie music. I tamp down a grin as I wonder if Lachlan ever listens to Lark’s music, and when I glance at Rowan beside me, I think he might be wondering the same.
“You old twat. What are you working on?” Rowan says as Lachlan wheels his worn swivel chair away from his desk and tosses what looks like reading glasses next to the hide he’s carving.
