Page 60 of Where's Molly

“Cage!”

His answering growl is primal, followed by the sharp bite of his teeth. My mouth falls open on a silent scream, my body unable to properly function beneath the assault.

Every one of my nerves is hyper-fixated on the way his tongue swirls over me. Then, he switches to the other, cupping both of my breasts in his large palms as if he's feeding them into his mouth.

My fingers dive into his short strands, scraping my nails against his scalp.

His teeth gnash at my abused nipple one more time before he pulls away, taking his wet kisses lower.

My lungs tighten, refusing to pull in a single breath as he reaches my belly button. There lies a scar that's fitted perfectly around it. Aside from the one on my face, I'vealways hated that one most because of how ugly and centered on my body it is.

I'm prepared to tell him to ignore it, but before I can manage a sound, he's matching his teeth to the scar and sinking them into it.

“Cage!” I screech, the burning pain encompassing my shock.

When he lifts his wicked stare to mine, I see a mix of rage and something I could only describe as possession.

“I will claim every part of you, Molly. And that includes the pieces of you those fuckers tried to take from me.”

My brows pinch. “From you?” I repeat dumbly.

Deliberately, he places a kiss over the bite.

“Don't be fooled, little ghost, I will own you even after you've disappeared. You may vanish, but your soul will always be mine.”

I'm not sure if it's normal for one-night stands to be so damn intense. It sounds like a proclamation of love without saying the words. Except way more… permanent.

Yet, he may as well have gathered any resolve I had left and crushed it beneath his boot. He’s so intense, but there isn't an iota of me that cares right now. He feels too good, and if it continues this way, maybe he'll be right.

Though it won't stop me from becoming a ghost.

It's the only thing I know how to be.

His stare drops, and he resumes his path toward my pussy, pausing briefly to bite over the white scars on my hip and thighs. Each time, it grows more intense. By the time his hot breath fans over my center, I'm trembling.

“Cage,” I whisper, feeling as if I'm on the verge of combusting. I need so much more, but I'm also not sure if I can handle what's next.

He inhales,and my eyes widen in mortification. Before I can slap him or move away, he's parting my thighs and covering my clit with his mouth. Except he doesn't lick me yet, depriving me of the sensation my body needs so desperately.

“Please,” I groan impatiently.

Grinning devilishly, he delivers the smallest lick, sending a shock wave up my spine.

My back arches, and the strangest confidence washes over me.

“Please lick my pussy. I need you to make me feel good,” I plead. “You promised.”

“Fuck,” he curses a moment before he flattens his tongue and glides it up my slit. My outcry is answered by another thorough lick, in which he groans deeply.

“Christ, baby, you taste so sweet, I don't know how I'll stop. I would gladly drown in the prettiest cunt I've ever eaten.”

His words are filthy, but the way he continuously flicks his pointed tongue over my clit is entirely depraved. There's no time to prepare for the sharp sensations invading every inch of my insides. I'm overcome with pure bliss, and for several heartbeats, the only sound I can muster is a loud moan.

“Oh, ffu— Oh my God, Cage.”

He doesn't relent, and within moments, I'm hurtling toward a far more powerful sensation. Pleasure, euphoria—they're too weak of words to describe the hurricane building inside of me.

“Oh, please, don't stop.” Yet, that's exactly what he does. “Cage!” I shout as he pulls away, only to dive his tongue into my pussy, curling it upward.

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