Page 73 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You
My tongue finds hers, and she parts for me. The moment she does, I groan, she even tastes like strawberries.
“I fucking missed you,” I murmur between kisses.
She breathes, “I didn’t.”
I smirk against her mouth. “Such a liar, Ophelia. Always a liar.”
Each kiss deepens as I walk her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She falls onto it, breathless.
In one stride, I’m between her legs, sliding her shorts down with a rough pull. Her panties are white, pure, delicate.
Just like her.
They don’t last long. The fabric tears easily beneath my hands.
“They were my favourite,” she moans.
“I’ll buy you more,” I rasp, and lower my head.
The second my mouth meets her centre, every rational thought disappears.
Weeks without touching her, weeks of anger, tension, and wanting, and now I can’t stop.
I taste her like a man starved, tongue tracing every part of her until she’s trembling beneath me.
When I circle her clit and draw it between my lips, her breath catches. I suck harder, just to hear it again.
Every sound she makes reminds me exactly how long I’ve been starving for her.
“Letting me eat you out like the slut I know you are,” I growl against her. “You’d let anyone touch this pussy, but bad luck for you, I won’t ever let another soul near it.”
She grips my hair and yanks my face away, hard enough to make me wince.
Her voice is quiet and it pierces through me. “Don’t ever call me a slut again.”
There’s hurt in her tone, but beneath it…power.
Her eyes darken.
“Make me come,” she says evenly, “And stop talking nonsense. Between us, you are plainly the obsessed one, you’ve proved it time and again. If you keep this up, I swear you’ll never touch me again.”
I find myself staring, momentarily robbed of words. Because, damn it, my little moon has never dared speak to me that way.
And still, absurdly, there’s a swell of pride tightening in my chest.
And I do exactly what she commands.
I drop my head between her thighs again, tongue finding her clit. I lick and suck until her body arches off the bed, until she’s trembling, until her fingers dig into my hair again, but this time, she’s the one in control.
My fingers slide inside her, curling as I fuck her with them, worshipping the power she just claimed back.
I feel her tighten around my fingers as I move faster, drawing another strangled sound from her throat.
When I close my mouth over her clit, she breaks, shattering with a cry that echoes through the room.
Her body trembles beneath me, slick heat coating my fingers, my lips. I drag my tongue over her one last time before lifting my head, a faint smirk curving my mouth.
She’s watching me, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright, pulse still racing.
