Page 62 of Scarlet Mark
Regardless, her trust in me in this moment was an aphrodisiac that stirred a yearning inside me no one else had ever evoked.
And I wanted to reward her for it in every sensual way known to man.
I kissed her mound, shifting my knife and lifting to catch her eye. “I still want you naked, Amara. Sit up.” She was still balancing on her elbows, her limbs strained from trying not to move.
But she did as I requested, her gaze heavy-lidded. She didn’t wait, just pulled her dress up and over her head, then removed her bra with a twist and tossed it to the side.
The only things left were her shoes. I grabbed the right one, sliding the heel off before bending her knee and pressing her foot flat to the bed. She bit her lip as I repeated the action with her other leg, leaving her wide open and completely naked for my perusal.
“Gorgeous,” I murmured, admiring every inch of her.
I’d hung up my jacket when we entered the jet, leaving me clad in my dress shirt and pants. Amara’s heated gaze urged me to remove them, but I didn’t.
No. I wanted to play. To tease. To worship her. To erase every second of harm and replace it with a memory worth remembering.
“If you don’t do something—”
I leaned over and pressed the knife to her lips, arching a brow. “Patience, Amara.”
She licked the metal in response, her gaze glowing with sensual intent. I nearly lost it right there, my desire to throw the dagger aside and fuck her causing my balls to tighten and my cock to throb.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“Patience is dull,” she replied against my blade, her tongue drawing another wet path up the steel. “I’d prefer your cock, Killian.”
“Oh, kitten.” I tapped her on the nose with my knife and bent down to take her mouth, teaching her a lesson with my tongue. She groaned in response, her arms wrapping around my neck, but I pulled away, nipping her chin. “I’ll feed you my cock, and by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me for a break.”
“Promises, promises,” she sighed, her cheeks flushed. “Just fuck me, Killian.”
“No.” I shifted back to my knees, drawing my blade down her neck as I moved, pausing at her nipples to circle one of the stiff tips. “Patience is not dull, darling.” I pressed down, causing her to hiss, and bent to lick the tender scratch. “It’s exciting,” I whispered, laving her tit and sucking her taut peak into my mouth.
She arched into me, her restraint shattering.
I switched breasts, returning my knife to the sheath sewn into my pants pocket, and used my teeth to help her teeter on the balance of pleasure and pain.
Her reactions were exquisite, her head lolling to one side and then the other, my name a curse from her mouth. I loved it, having her completely at my mercy while being free to voice her own opinions and desires. A delicate dance between submission and dominance, that special place where trust and adoration ruled. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Amara required an experience adorned in ecstasy, and that was exactly what I intended to give her.
I kissed a path down her torso, pausing to dip my tongue in her belly button. She watched with a look of wonder as I continued my trail, my desired location clear, and her reaction told me she wasn’t used to this—to being adored.
But that was exactly what I wanted.
She deserved to be worshiped and praised, and I showed her that with my mouth against her clit.
“Oh God.” She bowed off the bed, her response that of a woman experiencing true rapture for the first time. Of all the things done to her body, this had clearly not been one of them. Or perhaps it’d been too long.
Her fingers threaded through my hair, giving me a tug and pressing me closer at the same time, as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted me to stop or to never stop. I nibbled gently on her sensitive little nub, just enough to provide her with the mix of sensation she required.
Amara rewarded me with a long moan, my name never sounding more perfect. I slid one finger inside her, testing her strength and stamina, then added a second when I felt her pulse around me.
So close.
Her body was strung like a bow, begging to be mastered and played.
And I gave her what she needed, my tongue matching my inner strokes, her body falling apart to my tune.
She screamed, her lower body quaking with her eruption, her hand fisting my hair as though needing to hold on to something while she floated to the heavens and back. I smiled against her, nowhere near done.
