Page 121 of Prey Tell
I stand up and walk to his side of the table. Just as I ask where he wants me, he leans back and pushes his left sleeve up. His sharp gaze lands on me, and I take a steadying breath as he finishes. My subconscious lowers the wall I keep up, allowing him inside. Allowing him to tell me what to do next. It’s strange… this feeling. Of letting go completely. He doesn’tcontrolme. He isin controlof the situation, and for someone like me, it means no more overthinking.Trustinghim completely.
I’d been doing more research this past week on the whole primal aspect of BDSM, and there was usually a natural tendency to freeze, fight, or run. I never experienced any of that with Chase. Not really—at least not for long. When he starts a scene, I go from fight or flight mode straight into a melted puddle. I am malleable. He consumes me, and I allow it. It’s passionate and intense, and it’s times like these that I feel myself drop right into subspace.
And since I assume he doesn’t intend to chase me around the restaurant, I do the only other thing I can think to do.
I drop to my knees at his feet.
He chuckles. “Clever girl,” he drawls.
Smiling, I place my hands on my legs.
This doesn’t feel like a scene. It never does. It’s not a contractual relationship between two civil people. It feels inescapable.Undeniable. Like it was always meant to be this way between us.
And it hits me at that moment. That maybe we’re perfect together.
“We’re alone now,” Chase says, eating his cake. “I told the staff they must leave once they serve the cake.”
“I see. And what is it that you would like me to do, sir?”
Chase looks over at me, an appreciative smile tugging at his lips. “Exactly what you’re doing.”
His praise makes my whole body warm with pride, so I watch him eat with a small smile. When he finishes, he pushes his plate away and looks at me with a heated gaze.
“Stand up.”
I pull myself up, wobbling slightly in my heels. Chase appraises me with something soft and tender, and I swallow as his arm comes underneath the hem of my dress. His warm palm slides up my calf, eliciting a moan to escape my lips. Pressing me back slightly, my thighs hit the table. Before I can register what’s happening, he lowers himself to the floor so thathe’sthe one kneeling before me. I gasp when his hands come under my dress again, sliding up my thighs.
“What are you doing, sir?” I ask, my voice shaky as his calloused fingers come up between my thighs. The second they don’t meet the hem of my underwear, his eyes flash, and he snaps them up to me, deliciously dark and hooded.
“Having my second dessert, Parker.”
And then he tugs my dress up, leaning his head forward and latching on to my sex with his lips. I cry out as he grabs my ass, tugging me closer to his mouth. Eyes rolling, I drop my head back and use the table behind me to steady myself as he laves his tongue up and down my slit.
“Fuck,” I mewl, my knees buckling as they attempt to hold me up.
“I never want to go this many days without tasting you, Juliet,” he murmurs, using my first name as he whispers against my clit, his lips brushing the swollen nub. “Never again.”
“Never again,” I acquiesce, humming when he inserts one of his long fingers.
He presses his ring against my inner thigh, smiling.
Chase Ravage. Dominant. Possessive.
“Mine,” I whisper, one of my hands coming to his hair, running my fingers through his short, soft hair. He groans when I curl my fingers, and his free hand squeezes my hip as his other hand pumps into me roughly.
“That’s right,” Chase growls. “I am yours. Check your hands, Parker,” he adds, looking up at me between my legs.
I almost gasp at the openness I see—his messy hair, his wet mouth, his unguarded, darkened eyes…
“My heart,” he adds, his voice softer. “You hold my heart in your hands, so please be gentle.”
Fuck.
Me.
I gasp as he dives back in between my legs, pulling me closer to his mouth as his fingers dig into my hip and as his other fingers curl and pump into my cunt.
I fall over the edge seconds later, shattering on his tongue as my body convulses and shudders. If it weren’t for his grip on my hip, I might’ve fallen over, and I cry out as he slowly draws the last of it out with his fingers, with the way his teeth sogentlygraze my swollen clit. I’m still shaking when he leans back on his heels, lifting his hand and tasting me on his fingers before pulling them out with a popping sound.
