Page 56 of The Dancer and the Masks (Their Obsession 1)

My eyes snap open as he presses a kiss against the inside of my knee, his tongue tasting my skin.

My traitorous core squeezes.

“Don’t,” I beg, my voice cracked and broken, desperate with longing and hating myself for it. Am I really that easy to manipulate? A look of hunger, a gentle but possessive touch, and I roll over just like a dog? This can’t be happening. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“You taste just like I imagined,” he mumbles against my inner thigh, ignoring my outburst. His mouth moves higher, the soft whisper of his lips doing more damage than any firm grasp or threat to my life.

“And what do I taste like?” I find myself asking, wanting a distraction as he licks and bites, edging his way higher.

“Dangerous.”

My pulse runs riot, it gallops and bucks, making me lightheaded as he presses his thumbs against my inner thighs and spreads me wide. My chest, neck and cheeks flame with another surge of heat as he rips off his mask and presses his nose against my mound, breathing me in.

He. Breathes. Me. In.

My heart stutters, and my body shakes with a mixture of self-hatred, lust, and pure physicaldesire.

This is wrong. I should fight...

A moment ago I wanted to kill him, and now...

Now, I want him to taste me.

Taste me.

I lift my head, begging him with my eyes whilst cursing him with my mouth. “I hate you. I willkillyou for this!”

“Then do it, nothing’s stopping you,” he taunts.

Fury turns my blood ice cold. He knows he can overpower me. I can’t win against him, but I can make him hurt. So I slap him. I push upwards, shove against his shoulders and slap him as hard as I can across his cheek. His head whips to the side, the force of my slap unbalancing him. Surprise lights in his eyes, but he reaches for my hips, holding me down as I try to stand.

“Yes,” he hisses, correcting himself as he grabs the leash and tightens it once more. “Fight and die, or keep still and live. Your choice.”

“Screw you,” I choke out, but I don’t fight him when he pushes me back onto the bed.

“Look at me whilst I fuck your cunt with my tongue,” he demands, loosening his hold on the leash so I can breathe again.

I meet his gaze as his eyes blacken with need, his pupils blown wide. Then he grins and tastes me, burning me up from the inside out with one firm stroke of his tongue up my tender flesh.

I’ve never experienced anything like it. My whole body goes rigid at the sudden exquisite sensation. Jakub licks and sucks, plundering my core with his tongue, drinking me up, feasting on my dripping pussy. He kisses and taunts with his lips, teeth and tongue, and it’s as though everything that’s happened over the past few days incinerates in that moment, swallowed up in fire and smoke, lust and passion. The tip of his tongue rims my entrance and sensation blinds me momentarily as my virginal pussy weeps for him. A hot tear slides down my temple as I try to comprehend what’s happening.

No, my mind protests.

Yes, my body retorts.

This is what you’ve been hungering for, my soul reminds me.

I have the sudden urge to pull him closer, to wrap my legs around his head and grind against his face, taking what he gives, wanting what he offers, hating myself all the while. How can Idothis? How can Iwantthis?

“Hmmm,” he hums as he licks me again, a long sweep from anus to clit and back again. If he’s the devil then his tongue’s an angel and I’m in purgatory caught between heaven and hell.

A heady moan releases from my parted lips. A cry of shame and overwhelmingwant. The noise that rumbles up his throat matches mine, ashamed, shocked, but filled with need.

Unequivocable need.

“Please,” I beg, unashamedly rocking my hips whilst tears stream down my face, wetting my hair.

I want to come.

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