I shiver at the promise in his words, my body already responding to the heat in his gaze.
Rhyland smirks, his hands tightening on my hips as he pulls me down against him, letting me feel every inch of his desire. "How about I show you instead of telling you, Angel? Actions speak louder than words, after all."
And with that, he flips us over, pinning me beneath him as he captures my lips in a searing kiss that steals the breath from my lungs, and the smart-ass retorts from my tongue.
Rhyland pulls back from my thoroughly kissed lips, a smug grin on his face. "First things first, baby. I need my goddamn breakfast."
Before I can even process what he means, he's ducking under the sheet and settling between my legs. I quickly glance over at Seraphina, who's still sleeping like the dead, and pray to God to keep my big mouth shut and my moans to a minimum.
But then Rhyland's tongue is lashing out against my clit, and I'm arching off the bed like I've been electrocuted. He grabs my thighs in his big, rough hands and pushes my legs apart, spreading me wide open for his hungry mouth. I see him get up on his knees, and then he's devouring me like a man starved, his entire warm, wet, delicious mouth covering my pussy as he sucks and savors me like I'm the best damn thing he's ever tasted.
My eyes roll back in my head as I reach under the sheet and tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him right where I want him. He moans quietly against my wet sex, letting me know just how much he's enjoying his little morning feast. "Fuck, baby, you taste even better marinated," he growls, his voice muffled by my flesh.
I know he's talking about his cum and mine from last night, and the thought of him lapping up our combined juices like it's his favorite fucking breakfast has me clenching around nothing. He pulls away suddenly, and my clit instantly goes cold from the loss of his mouth. But before I can even whine in protest, he's biting into my inner thigh, marking me as his.
I have to grab the pillow and muffle my moan, biting down on the fabric to keep from screaming as he drinks from my inner thigh, his fingers fucking into me slowly, agonizingly. It's torture, sweet, delicious, and maddening all at once, and I know I won't last long under his relentless onslaught.
"Rhyland…." I whisper. "I'm going to come…"
Rhyland releases my thigh. His mouth back on my sensitive clit—warm and delicious. "Good, 'cause I'm starving," he mumbles.
As if on cue, my orgasm crashes over me before I can even register what's happening. My face flushes with heat as I struggle to stifle my cries. My pussy clenches around his fingers, pulsing and fluttering as he coaxes every last shred of pleasure from my body. I feel the wetness trickling down my ass and onto the sheets as Rhyland drinks in my release, his mouth sealed against my core, moaning and gulping.
Fuck that's hot.
"Mmm...baby," he rasps, his breath scorching against my sensitive flesh as he pushes my thighs up and back, spreading me wider and opening me to him completely. "I would die a happy man drowning in you."
He's referring to my squirting—a phenomenon I'd never experienced before meeting him. Whatever he does to me, it triggers something primal, a release so intense it feels like I'm coming undone at the seams.
Rhyland's tongue gives me the complete VIP treatment, going places no passport has ever been issued for. He's everywhere—inside me, outside me. But when that clever little muscle flicks against my ass, I have to bite my tongue to keep from screaming. It's like a good spanking—painful and pleasurable all at once, leaving me wondering if I should thank him or slap him.
With a satisfied growl that says,'Mmmm, that hit the spot,' he pulls back from my lady bits like he's surfacing after a deep-sea dive. And let's be honest, he basically did. This man has tongue skills that would make the mythical creatures of the deep blush.
He sits back, looking all sorts of pleased with himself, and licks his lips like he's just sampled the most delectable dessert on the damn planet. If seduction had a face, it would be Rhyland's after a taste test south of my border.
"Damn, Angel," he murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire. "I could wake up to—"
"Good morning!" Seraphina chimes from the corner of the room, her voice as chipper and bright as a songbird at sunrise.
I quickly shove Rhyland off of me, sending him tumbling off the side of the bed with a grunt and a thud. "H-Hi..." I clear my throat, acting like I wasn't just getting my pussy eaten by my irresistible Viking. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"
Rhyland pops his head up from the side of the bed, his lips a shiny sheen from my arousal and looking like a disgruntled puppy who just got booted off the couch. "What the hell, Angel?" he grumbles, rubbing his head where it connected with the floor.
I shoot him a look that says,'Shut up and play nice,'before turning back to Seraphina with a bright, totally-not-fake smile. "I hope we didn't wake you with all the... uh... commotion."
Seraphina blinks, her head tilting to the side like a curious bird. "Commotion? I didn't hear anything. I was admiring the view from the window. The sunrise over the sea is quite beautiful."
I breathe a sigh of relief, thanking whatever gods are listening that angels have the observational skills of a distracted toddler. "Oh, yes. It's really stunning, isn't it, Rhyland?" I say, with false enthusiasm as I try to act like I wasn't just caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar.
Rhyland, who's still sprawled on the floor like a petulant child whose favorite toy was just snatched away, shoots Seraphina a look that's half annoyed, half incredulous. "Oh yeah, it'sreallysomething," he drawls, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Almost as stunning as the view I had a few seconds ago before someone decided to interrupt."
I shoot him a warning glare. "Right," I say, clapping my hands together desperately trying to change the subject. "We should get moving. We have a lot to do before we meet with Gideon, and by that, I mean clothes—lots and lots of clothes."
Seraphina tilts her head, looking adorably confused. "Clothes? But I thought we would discuss our next steps and plans for finding the key and stopping Moretemis."
I nod, my smile turning sly and mischievous. "Oh, we are, sweetie. But first, we need to make sure we look the part. I mean, we can't very well go traipsing around the high seas looking like a bunch of landlubbers, now can we? No, if we're going to be taken seriously as badass pirates, we need to dress the part."
Rhyland snorts, finally hauling himself off the floor and dusting off his pants. "Since when do you care about looking the part, Angel? Last I checked, you were more interested in getting me out of my clothes than putting me in new ones."
