Page 162 of Morally Black Betrothal
37
ALL TALK
Simone
Idon’t remember how we got up the stairs. It was possible that he carried me and also possible that I dragged him there myself. All I knew was that one moment I was climbing Brendan Black like a tree in the middle of his foyer, and the next I was being tossed onto his football-field-sized bed on the second floor of the apartment.
“Strip.” He yanked off his clothes like he was shucking an ear of corn. “I need you naked. Now.”
He didn’t have to ask me twice.
And as soon as all our clothes were on the floor, he was there, caging me to the bed, body to body, and kissing me like he was stealing my soul.
And God, if I didn’t want to give it to him.
“Brendan.” My voice broke as his lips found my neck with a hard, unforgiving suck that made my back arch clear off the bed. “Should we—we should talk?”
“No.” Another suck, this time with teeth. “This is how I talk right now.”
Before I could respond, he ducked down to take one of my breasts deep into that sinful mouth. He was an animal, biting just hard enough to make me gasp before he soothed the sting with another long, hungry pull.
“Brendan—oh God—” The words slipped out, half-moan, half-prayer as he drifted further down my body, tongue dragging over my skin, nipping as he went.
“Say my name like that again.”
I looked down at where he was kneeling between my legs like they were his own personal altar. “L-like what?”
“Like you need me too.”
My whisper was somewhere between a prayer and a plea as he suckled my inner thigh hard enough to leave a bruise. “Brendan.”
“Fuck, yes. Just like that.” He wrenched my thighs wide, looking at me like he didn’t know whether to worship or devour me.
Studying me.
Learning me.
His dark hair was wildly mussed, his eyes even wilder. He really did look like the devil everyone said he was.
I couldn’t have wanted him more.
“Look at you, trembling for me,” he murmured almost meditatively as he dragged a finger through my aching flesh. “You want me to kiss you here, baby? Lick that sweet nectar? Devour you whole?”
I squirmed, but his other hand kept me pinned to the bed. “P-please.”
He paused. “When you stutter, is it because you’re excited or scared?”
I flushed and couldn’t quite hold his gaze. “I…a little of both.”
“Scared of what?” His head cocked to one side in an uncanny imitation of the birds he loved so much. “Of everything that’s going on with your family? I told you I took care of it.”
I shook my head. How could I tell him that when he looked at me like that, I wanted to open the darkest places inside me and give them all to him so badly it made me shake, but it also made me so terrified he would hurt me that I wanted to cower away.
“I just…I want you,” I managed.
The left dimple appeared—the one I always wanted to lick. “You have me.”
He picked up my foot and pressed a kiss to my ankle. Then to my knee. And back to the spot on my thigh he’d been so deliciously torturing just moments ago.
