Page 137 of Twisted Pact
“This damn nightgown is covering too much,” he complains against my mouth.
“Then take it off.”
He sits back on his heels and pulls the fabric over my head. Then, I’m completely bare underneath him. His gaze travels over every inch of me like he’s memorizing the sight.
“Perfect.” He leans down and takes my nipple into his mouth. The wet heat makes me arch off the bed. His tongue circles the sensitive peak, teasing it, then scraping his teeth gently across the tip as I gasp.
He repeats the action on the other breast. Slower this time, and more thorough. Like he’s savoring every moment.
Each pull of his mouth sends sparks straight to my core. I’m soaking wet and aching for him.
“Please,” I whimper.
“Please what?” He releases my breast and looks up at me. “Tell me what you want, Zaika.”
“Touch me.”
“Iamtouching you.”
“You know what I mean.”
He grins. The bastard is enjoying this. “Say it.”
“Touch me between my legs. Make me come. Stop being an ass about it.”
He laughs, and the sound rumbles through his chest. “Since you asked so nicely.”
He kisses his way down my stomach, taking his time as his tongue glides over my skin. When he reaches my hip bone, he bites down gently, and I suck in a gasp.
He grips my thighs and spreads them apart before he positions himself between my legs. The first stroke of his tongue makes me moan.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I force my eyes open and meet his gaze. He maintains eye contact as he licks me again, slowly and thoroughly.
My hips buck, and he presses one hand against my lower abdomen to hold me still while his tongue works magic between my legs.
“Alexei—”
“I’ve got you.”
He slides two fingers inside me while his mouth focuses on the bundle of nerves that makes my vision swim. The dual sensation pushes me closer to the edge with each passing second. He pumps his fingers in and out, matching the rhythm with his tongue.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please, don’t stop.”
He increases the pressure and speed as he curls his fingers inside me. His tongue flicks without mercy.
The orgasm crashes through me without warning. I cry out his name as waves of pleasure roll through my body. He continues working me through it until I’m trembling and oversensitive and pushing at his shoulders.
He crawls back up my body and kisses me. I taste myself on his lips, and the intimacy of the action makes my heart clench.
“I need to be inside you,” he pleads against my mouth.
“Yes,” I urge him.
He reaches down and frees himself from his boxers before he presses against my entrance and pushes in so slowly that I want to scream.
“You’re killing me,” I gasp.
