Page 94 of When the Storm Breaks
His voice is a threatening rasp against my skin. “Remember who you belong to.”
One last lick over the bruised skin—and he drops to his knees.
His face is level with my bare pussy, dark, hooded eyes locking onto mine. He takes a slow inhale, like he’s breathing me in, and his fingers spread, pressing into the soft skin of my thighs, holding me open.
He drags a single finger through my wetness, eyes fixed on my face.
“Christ, Calla,” he mutters. “You’re soaked.”
His thumb circles my clit. Featherlight.
Torturous.
I jerk, a whimper slipping free before I can stop it.
He groans, his mouth hovering just shy of where I need him. “All fucking night,” he growls. “Walking around like this. Were you hoping I’d find out?”
Before I can respond, his tongue flicks against me—a slow, filthy stroke that steals the air from my lungs.
A strangled sound escapes me as my head tilts back, fingers clutching the edge of the desk.
He pushes a finger inside me—just one at first, slow, teasing, dragging out the moment until I’m squirming. Then another. Stretching. Filling. Curling just right.
I gasp, hips tilting toward him.
He hums against me, smug. “That’s it. Let me feel you.”
His tongue flicks against me, his fingers working inside me at a pace that keeps me right on edge—never enough to fall, never enough to stop needing.
I whimper, legs trembling, skin flushed and raw. My walls clench around his fingers as he moves, like he’s testing how much I can take.
“So needy, aren’t you?” he groans.
His free hand grips me tighter, holding me still as his mouth licks into me again.
Every time I think I might regain control, he shifts—changing pace, changing pressure, teasing until I’m gasping, begging, undone.
My nails dig into his shoulders. “Haiyden, please.”
He groans against me, his fingers curling deep. “Say it again.”
“Please,” I whimper, voice catching, breaking.
He gives in. His fingers thrust faster, deeper. His tongue drags over me. The pressure builds, until it snaps loose inside me.
“Fuck, Haiyden—”
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me, my moans filling the quiet space, my thighs tightening around his head, my fingers tangled in his hair.
He doesn’t stop until I’m begging.
Dazed and breathless, I look down just as he withdraws his fingers from me—
Only to bring them to his mouth and suck them clean.
His eyes never leave mine, a slow, deliberate show that sends a fresh wave of heat rolling through me.
