Page 82 of Veil of Obsession
But Lucio doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. He devours. Long, torturous strokes of his tongue, tasting me, savoring me like a man starving.
“Fuck, Princess…” he groans against me, the vibration shooting straight through my core, making my hips buck into his mouth.
He chuckles, low and sinful, before sucking my clit between his lips—tugging, teasing, devastating. I cry out, my hand flying to his hair and tugging hard, but it only urges him on. He groans, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them just right, his tongue flickering, sucking, fucking ruining me.
I can’t breathe. Can’t think. I pull my panties out of my mouth, my low moans bouncing off the walls of my room. The heat coils, tightens, the pleasure pushing me higher, higher, until…
“Lucio—”
I shatter. My orgasm rips through me—violent, uncontrollable—my body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over me.
Lucio doesn’t stop. He works me through it, licking, lapping up every drop, owning it. Making sure I know exactly who the fuck I belong to.
And when I finally collapse back onto the bed, spent, trembling, my breath ragged, Lucio lifts his head, his lips glistening, his eyes dark, hungry, and utterly feral. He runs his tongue over his lips as if savoring the last drops of my orgasm, tilts his head, and smirks.
“Tastes even better than I imagined.”
His words barely register. I’m still floating, my body shaking, my breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. But even as the aftershocks roll through me, something hotter, darker is already coiling back up inside me.
Because Lucio doesn’t look satisfied. Not even fucking close.
He looks hungry. Ravenous.
And that look? That filthy, devastating smirk—like he knows exactly what he’s done to me, like he’s proud of the mess he made?
It snaps something in me.
I move before I can think, shoving him back. Lucio lets out a low grunt as he lands on his back, his expression flickering from surprise to something wicked, entertained, intrigued.
His smirk grows. “What are you doing, Princess?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I climb over him, straddling his chest, letting my hands trail down the hard edges of his stomach, pushing his sweats low enough to run my hands over the deep-cut V leading to where he’s aching, heavy, straining against the fabric.
His cock is thick, long, the shape of it outlined so perfectly that I can already tell he’s going to ruin me.
And all I want to do is return the favor.
Lucio groans as I slide lower, my nails scraping lightly over his abs, before I remove his boxers.
His breath hitches. I don’t miss the way his chest rises and falls faster, the way his hands twitch at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to grab me, to flip me over and take back control.
But he doesn’t. He lets me take my time. Let’s me slip his boxers off, drag them down, until they reach his knees, freeing him.
Andfuck.
I still, my pulse skittering, my thighs clenching as I take him in. Thick. Heavy. A bead of precum glistens at his tip, and…fuck.
The piercing. A silver barbell glints at the head of his cock, taunting me, promising things I’m not ready to handle.
Lucio sees the way I stare and smirks.
“Scared?” His voice is a low, teasing drawl.
I drag my gaze up to his face, my breath shaky, my lips parting as I murmur, “A little.”
His smirk turns into something more predatory, dangerous. “You’ll like it.”
The challenge in his voice undoes me. I lift myself over him, shifting my body so I straddle his face, my own mouth hovering above his cock.
