Page 47 of His Darkest Obsession
My hands glide up her calves, and my fingertips trace the backs of her knees. Inch by inch, her dress rides up and bares her thighs. And I see those scars crisscrossing her bronzed caramel skin, and I feel a possessive rage burning up inside of me again.
"Who did this to you,printsessa?" I brush my lips over the first scar, a thin white line just above her knee.
Indigo's fingers curl against the wall behind her. "Why do you care?"
"Answer me." I trace my tongue along a deeper mark, feeling its ridged texture.
Her voice catches. "No."
I pause, lifting my head to meet her gaze. "You think your silence protects you?" Another kiss, this time to a crosshatch pattern near her inner thigh.
She trembles but remains silent, her jaw clenched tight.
This stubbornness both frustrates and intrigues me. Most people—men and women—break under my attention. They confess, they plead, they crumble.
But not Indigo. Never Indigo.
She stands firm, defiant even as I worship the evidence of her pain.
I lift my eyes to hers again and what I see sends heat coursing through my veins. There’s a fire blazing in those soft hazel depths.
My cock engorges and strains against my pants. But I made her a promise. I won’t fuck her until she begs.
"You think you can keep your secrets?" I murmur as I part her legs and pin her against the window. "Iwillknow everything about you, Indigo."
My tongue gives her pussy a gentle lick, and I taste the hint of her sweet wet surrender. It’s the flavor of everything she’s been resisting. Everything I’ve been holding back from taking.
She rewards me with a small gasp. But she doesn’t beg.
“What you want.”
I map her with my tongue, slow and relentless, learning what makes her breath grow uneven and her thighs tremble. Every breath, every whisper, every tiny movement belongs to me, and I collect them like a treasure to hide in my lonely thoughts.
But she still won’t beg.
“What you hate.”
I lick a line along her thigh, and feel the bumpy path of the scars that I want to fucking erase before I return to feast between her legs.
I pull back and watch her chest rise and fall above me. Her breathing grows shallow, but that fire in her eyes refuses to dim. Her mouth is still drawn in a stubborn line, and I can practicallyhearher teeth clenching even from where I kneel.
"And when I learn his name." I start kissing along her thigh. "I will give you his hands."
She looks down at me with the same intensity that looked at me at the barbershop when she had that razor around my throat.
She pants.
But doesn’t beg.
“Have it your way,printsessa.” I smirk, my eyes never leaving hers. “You don’t need to talk. I’m fine with hearing you scream.”
And that’s the final warning I give her before I close my mouth against her soaked pussy.
15
INDIGO
Holy fuck.
