Page 96 of Phantom
“Your demon loves it when you beg for him,mon amour.” He bites my earlobe, making me cry out, before kneeling and meeting my eyes. “Now sing for me.”
In one swift move, he scoops my legs over his shoulders, leaving me bare to his gaze. I hold on to the beads, praying for dear life that they don’t break while in this position, but I forget all about it when his tongue meets my clit.
As if the taste was all he needed to break free, he squeezes me closer, both hands gripping my ass, anddevoursme. I cry out his name in a high-pitched moan and encourage him, telling him sweet gibberish to keep him going. He moans his approval against my pussy and laps up my desire before zeroing in on my clit. I clutch the beads so hard that the plastic skulls pinch my skin as I suddenly explode into pieces.
The explosive crescendo catches me off guard, as one loud melodic chord infortissimoresounds through my body. I’m screaming his name as my orgasm barrels through me, tensing every one of my muscles to the point of pain. My legs tremble on Sol’s shoulders and when they’ve finally stopped, he stands, and catches the back of my thighs again. He holds them up at his sides before driving inside me.
“Fuck, Scarlett, your pussy grips me so hard when you come. Do you think my cock can make you come again?”
“Yes, yes, yes.Please.”
His hands stroke my sides lovingly as he waits for me to accommodate his size, but I want him tomovealready. My fingers tremble, dying to touch him, to carve my nails into his skin while he takes me, but I’m still hung up by the beads so I clutch them for dear life even though I trust Sol won’t let me fall.
“Please let me go. I just want to touch you.”
“Not yet,” Sol answers before muttering under his breath. “But one day…”
The promise is so low, I can barely hear it, almost as if he’s vowing it to himself more than me. I’m about to plead with him again, but he finally curves his hard cock into me and thrusts at a wild staccato beat.
Every pounding thrust pushes me to the verge of another orgasm. He wraps his left arm around my waist to clutch me to his chest. When he pumps in, he grinds against my clit before pulling back out. The move makes it impossible for me to see anything but my demon, his midnight eye full of emotion while firelight dances across the white-skull mask on the right side of his face.
I’m so hot and sweaty, the wax on my breasts and stomach is still soft on my skin. It smears all over his white shirt, but he doesn’t seem to care. I stop caring about it, too, when my inner muscles squeeze, threatening to combust again.
“You feel so good, Sol. I’m going to come again,” I moan. “I can’t wait.”
“You don’t have to wait. Come, pretty muse. Sing for me, angel.”
The words act as a catalyst and I combust. My already spent muscles flutter around him, gripping him tightly and nearly locking him into my body.
“Goddamn, Scarlett.”
He calls out my name and drives up into me one final time while tugging me as close to his pelvis as possible. The beads above me snap but he catches me before I can drop, cradling my back with his forearm underneath the scrap of dress that still covers me. I lock my ankles and arms around his back and neck to help keep me steady. The beadstinkand tap around us like rain as they fall on the black marble hearth. I wrap my arms around him immediately as he pumps his orgasm inside of me.
“Fuck your birth control,” I think I hear him mutter.
With the covetous, primal way he looked at me while holding his niece, and the absolutely feral way he just took me, I regret the implant at this point. Any arguments I had when I threatened to leave have just been thoroughly fucked out of me. I want a full family one day, and having a bunch of Bordeaux babies running around the New French Opera House is a new dream I’d love to have come true.
Still standing, my legs hooked around his back, he holds me against him, his arm banded around my ass while the other wraps up my back and cups the back of my head. Other than the quiet flames whipping in the fireplace, our deep pants and gasps for air are the only sounds in the room. I feel completely safe, cherished…loved. I don’t know if the Phantom of the French Quarter can love, but mydémon de la musiquedefinitely feels capable.
I brush my lips over his. His grip on my nape tightens as he immediately takes control of the kiss. I taste my arousal as he devours my mouth just like he did my pussy. When the kiss melts from fevered need to tender, he leaves my swollen lips to kiss my neck, sending a delicious tremble down my spine.
He squeezes me harder before whispering into my ear, “Never leave me, Scarlett. I couldn’t bear it.”
My heart squeezes at the vulnerability lacing his full, rich bass.
“What about class?” I whisper back, somewhat playfully, but also slightly worried about his answer.
He stiffens and shifts me so he can look in my eyes. Determination and hesitance fills his midnight gaze. Not for the first time, I wish I could peel off his mask and see the full depth of his emotions. Maybe then he’d not only strip naked for me, but he’d also trust me enough to bare his secrets, too.
“If I let you go tomorrow… you’ll come back?” he asks and I can’t help but smile.
“Yes, I promise. But only because I want to. Not because you’ve forced me. Besides, it’s not like anywhere I go, you won’t go too. Youaremy stalker.”
A genuine smile spreads wide across his lips, even the right side, like it’s getting used to the muscles again.
“That’s all I ask, my muse.”
Scene 25
