Page 234 of Midnights
“That’s it, Princess,” his voice is rough and commanding. “Let me taste you.”
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, drawing out every ripple of pleasure until I’m nothing but a trembling, breathless mess beneath him.
As the final waves subside, my first coherent thought is that I didn’t know I could come this hard without him inside me. It’s a revelation and a promise of what’s to come.
He rises slowly, and I can see that wicked smirk dripping with dark satisfaction cut across his face. His eyes lock on mine as he drags a finger between his lips, sucking it clean with sinful patience.
“You taste like sin." His voice is so rough, it makes my pussy throb. “And I’m far from finished.”
Then, without warning, his fingers skim the curve of my breast. His eyes never leave mine as he yanks my dress down, exposing me to the air. My nipples harden instantly, and a thrill shoots through me so sharp I almost gasp.
His hand returns between my legs, reigniting the fire curling deep inside me. His mouth descends, capturing my nipple in his mouth and I’m arching into him once again.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice raw with hunger.
His hand trails up my body, leaving a burning path in its wake. His slick fingers brush against my lips and he pauses.
“Open.”
It’s not a request.
My heart stutters, and my pulse races under the weight of his stare. Slowly, I part my lips, as he pushes his fingers inside. The taste of myself is intoxicating, and his dark eyes hold me captive.
“Suck yourself off of me.” His tone leaves no room for anything but obedience.
I wrap my lips around his fingers, dragging my tongue as I taste myself on him.
He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and with one swift move, he pulls me off the table and onto his lap as he sits on the couch. His lips are on mine, wild and consuming. His hands tear my dress over my head and toss it aside as if it’s the only thing keeping him from me. And I let him.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip, smearing it my drool. “You’re perfect.”
His lips blaze a trail down my neck, across my chest, biting and marking as he goes. The need inside me is feral, and I’m desperate for him. My fingerstear at his shirt, yanking it over his head, exposing hard muscle and ink that looks like shadows are carved into flesh.
The lightning picks the perfect moment and flashes through the room, illuminating him like a god of war, all lethal grace and power.
I hold my breath as I take in his inked skin, rippling muscle, and scars that only make him look more untouchable. The way the ink curves and shifts with his muscles is mesmerizing, like it’s daring me to trace it with my tongue. It’s a declaration, a warning and an invitation all at once.
He catches me staring, and the hunger in his eyes makes my pulse hammer.
He chuckles, and suddenly I’m on my back, feeling the soft carpet against my skin. Somehow, I'm even more wound up now—after getting off twice. But here I am. A needy bitch.
Heat and muscle press me into the plush rug while his mouth moves lower. He’s tearing me apart and putting me back together with every possessive touch. My nails rake down his back, and I can feel his muscles flexing.
“Now,” I gasp, trembling with raw need. “Please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please,” I whisper, the word escaping as a plea.
With a dangerous smile, he pulls me closer. With one swift motion, my panties are gone, discarded like they never mattered. The soft clink of his belt makes my breath hitch, and when he pushes his pants down, I’m incapable of looking anywhere else. He’s all hard lines and impossible perfection, every inch of him is designed to ruin me.
And God, am I going to let him.
He’s huge. Like,how-is-that-physically-possiblehuge. My thoughts are spinning, struggling to comprehend how he could even fit. But my body seems to have other ideas. I take my time, drinking in every inch of him.
As he lines himself up, the stretch is a blinding mix of pleasure and pain. An intoxicating burn as he fills me inch by inch. My body arches, welcoming him, even as I struggle to adjust.
For a minute, I don't think I can take all of him, but he doesn’t stop. It's overwhelming, a relentless pressure that leaves me gasping.
