Page 48 of Ruthless Consequences

“Lucila,” he says, his voice gruff.

My eyes rise to meet his, but close when he starts to undress me. I’m not being shy. I’m…overwhelmed by his touch. By how rough his hands are, but how amazing they feel when they caress my skin. He’s moving slow, like he’s unwrapping me. Like he doesn’t want to tear into me and accidentally break something below the surface.

It’s the opposite of how my body feels. My heart is pounding hard in my chest, in my ears, and I think it’s the only reason I can’t hear the rushing of my blood. I can feel it, though. It’s hot. But I’m almost shivering. A pulse between my legs aches. I can feel how wet I am already. It’s like my body is preparing for him to break me. Because he is, in a way. He’s going to make me bleed.

Tonight, though, I refuse to turn this off. To separate from it. From him. There’s something monumental about me giving this to him. About me bleeding for him. It seems…symbolic.

“So beautiful,” he says, taking in my naked body. The light hits me directly, and he has a better view of me than I have of him. But from what I can see, his eyes look drunk. They’re hooded to almost slits. He releases my hair from the ponytail, and it falls around me. As wild as I’m sure my heart feels.

His hand slides up my neck, into my hair, and then he kisses me. He kisses me until we’re both on the bed, in the center of it. My skin is pressed against his. I’ve never felt anything like it. Combined with the kiss, noises escape my lips that I’ve never made before. Whimpers here and there, but these are coming from a starved place. It’s like when people say food can be orgasmic. I’ve experienced that before, but this? Never.

My back is to the bed, and he's next to me, but his mouth and hands are exploring my body. It’s like he’s memorizing every curve through touch. I’m arching into it. Because it feels so good. And I need more. It’s a rush my body is begging for.

His mouth moves lower, between my breasts. The stubble on his face is rough, and so are his hands, which contrast with the way he’s moving. He’s teasing me. He’s marking me. But in places only I can see. He’s sucking, bringing the blood to the surface of my skin. His hand barely moves over my stomach, and it makes me shiver.

I’m almost sinking my nails into his arms when his mouth comes close to my nipple. One. Then the other. His tongue makes a path from one to the other when he’s not sucking. He circles, going around and around, and when I make an incoherent noise, he takes one into his mouth. I almost buck up from the sensation. Because when he does, his hand moves lower and grips my thigh.

“Oh God,” I say, my eyes rolling.

He’s only done this much, and I’m already coming apart. My entire body feels like a live wire, each touch sending shocks throughout my entire system. The pulse between my legs? It seems to be the center of it. It’s throbbing, and I need him to do something about it. I would even beg.

Maybe he notices the look on my face. Or he feels the eagerness through his touch, because as he starts to kiss and suck his way down my body, he whispers, “You never have to beg me for anything, baby. Tell me what you want. And it’s yours.”

“You,” I say, my voice breathless.

“You already have me,” he says. “Tell me what you want from me.”

“This,” I say.

“Do you likethis?” He slows his words as his lips still on my navel. His warm breath fans over me and my skin contracts. The light of the moon highlights all he’s doing to me.

I look down and he looks up. He groans and I whimper.

“This feels so good.”

“You love that I’m worshiping your body?”

“Yes,” I breathe out.

“What am I worshiping your body with?”

“Yours,” I say. “Your hands.”

“What about this?” He licks his lips slowly. They’re glistening. Wet. Like my thighs.

“Your mouth,” I say. “Your tongue.”

His hand slides down even farther, and I part for him. He’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He tells me that, and my heart falls into my stomach before it flies high again.

I shiver when he positions himself between my legs and his tongue slides over my thigh. One. Then the other. He’s getting close to…

“Say it,” he says. “Say the words. There’s no shame here. Only us. Only love.”

“Lick me,” I say.

“Where?”

“Between my legs.”

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