Sky’s Divine, she’s practically begging me, and it’s muddying the reasonable part of my brain. Part of me wants to see how much I can drag this out. How much I could really get her to beg,for me, for my fingers, for my tongue, for my cock, but a smarter part of me is telling me to walk away.
She doesn’t know the full truth. Kissing her now would be taking advantage. I need to step away—
“Oh, for the love of all the celestials!” Azalea exclaims, before firmly gripping the back of my neck and pulling me into her. Her pillowy lips crash onto mine with rough purpose.
Now, I’m a strong man. I have an iron-clad willpower. But even I am not strong enough to resist kissing Azalea back now that I’m reminded of how delectable she tastes. My body thrums to life as if the shriveled parts of my soul have been filled with sunshine.
I haven’t felt her lips on my skin in a century, and it feels better than I remembered. My body springs into action, my hands gripping her waist and pulling her closer to me before wrapping around her back.
Every inch of me is starved, dehydrated, wilted, and barren, and this one kiss brings every piece of me back to life. Needing to explore further, my hands start to roam her body, memorizing every dip and curve.
I groan when she grinds her hips up and into me, her fingers climbing up my neck to tangle in my hair. Our tongues battle for dominance, but I win out when I skate one of my hands up her body and around the back of her neck, knotting my fingers through her thick locks and pulling at the root. Her head tips back, breaking our lips apart, and I scorch her skin with the heated kisses I begin to trail down her neck.
The moan that leaves her is the most beautiful melody I have ever heard, and I’m desperate to hear it again. I try to pull up the skirts of her dress, wondering why she always has so many blasted layers on.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she pants, dropping her head back when she feels my rough palm meet her bare skin.
“Relishing in my salvation,” I growl, backing her closer to the bed. My lips latch onto the exposed skin of her neck, and she lets out another gloriously musical moan.
Once we make it to the edge of my bed, I pull back. For a moment, I simply drink in the sight of her. Her lips are slightly swollen, her face and chest are flushed, and her hair cascades around her in a cacophony of curls. She’s fucking breathtaking. And she’s finally mine again.
“Sit,” I command.
I see her spine stiffen momentarily, the smallest hint of defiance flashing in her eyes. For a moment, I’m torn between wanting her to do as I say and wanting her to fight me on it. My dick is already painfully hard, but it stiffens even more as I think of all the ways I could get her to submit to me. I watch her mind work until her curiosity eventually wins out and she does as I say.
“Good girl,” I praise, my voice a husky timbre. Try as she might, she can’t hide the shiver of pleasure that rolls through her body at hearing me say those words.
I drop to my knees, my eyes staying locked on hers as I work her skirts up. I’m looking for any signs of apprehension on her face as I continue to push the countless layers of satin fabric higher, past her calves, past her knees, up and around her thighs.
When I see a look of needy impatience color her features, I take that as my cue to stop wasting time.
Dipping my head under her skirts, I groan when I see the small strip of fabric keeping me from tasting her to her full extent.
My greed to take as much as she will give me in this moment leads me to tearing the lacy red strip of fabric from her body. The satisfying rip combined with the sound of her gasp has me reaching down to squeeze my somehow still growing erection. Even though it’s straining against the seam of my pants to analmost painful extent, I know this moment isn’t about me. While I might be taking exactly what I want, this is still about her.
I bring my face closer to her dripping center at a torturous pace, peppering small kisses across the smooth skin of her thighs as I do so. When I finally reach my targeted destination, I flick my tongue over her swollen and sensitive clit, and she immediately bucks against me in response. I quickly pin her hips down on the bed, not wanting her movement to keep me from enjoying my meal. Flattening my tongue, I lick her from her opening to her clit, letting her sweet taste fill my mouth.
“Braxton,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders.
That right there is my undoing. Hearing her gasp my name while she marks me, blending my pleasure and pain, is enough to convince me that I might cum in my pants before this is over.
I bury my face deeper inside her center, flicking, rolling, and swirling my tongue in the perfect rhythm that I know drives her crazy. I might not have touched her in decades, but I certainly didn’t forget how to pleasure her. Because even if she doesn’t remember me, I know her. I know her body, and I know exactly how to make it sing my praises. We’ve both changed because of the curse, but this connection we have is exactly the same.
I feel her hips press further into my palms, instinctively wanting to fight against me as I bring her closer and closer to her peak.
“Say it again.” My demand comes out hoarse as lust coats my words.
“What?” she pants.
I pull my head out from under her skirts and am pleased to hear her whimper with displeasure.
“My name,” I clarify. “Say it again. In fact, scream it, so that, if only for a few hours, this entire castle knows how I make you feel.”
Her throat works and her chest heaves before she gives me a nod of agreement. When I continue my ministrations, playing to her needs perfectly, I hear her moan my name once more.
“Such a good fucking girl,” I praise.
Without saying a word, she rakes her fingers through my hair, grips tightly and shoves my face back between her thighs. And great celestials, if that isn’t one of the sexiest things she’s ever done in her entire existence. I waste no time bringing her back to the precipice of her pleasure, and when I feel her body begin to tense, I slow my movements, bringing her back down so that I can keep her right on the edge of her orgasm. I do this about three more times before she tugs at the hair that is still knotted through her fingers.
