Her gaze is like a spark prickling my skin everywhere she looks. My hands, my arms, my face, my shoulders… She seems to look at my shoulders a lot. And I may tense when I feel her gaze wandering there.
When I ring it out, and move back to her, I gently wipe her stomach, and the comfortable silence begins to… alter.
With every slow stroke, the air thickens, heats.
I try to ignore it, to pretend I don’t feel the shift, don’t hear her breath catch and deepen.
Or how, when I wipe lower, a soft whine spills from her lips. How her eyes are fixed on my hand, watching me. How when I discard the towel, and my fingers trail her stomach instead, she never moves. Never speaks.
So I sweep lower, until my fingers skim right above her opening, just before her clit. Her hand raises—
“Stop,” I murmur, and her eyes snap up from my fingers to me. She places her hand back down.
“That’s it.” I reward her with a soft brush of my thumb over her clit. “You need more? Does this greedy pussy need more?”
I keep touching her there, only there, waiting for her answer.
She bites her lip, another feral image to lock away, then nods.
“So fucking good for me,” I groan, growl, sliding two fingers into her soaking heat and lowering my mouth.
When I run the tip of my tongue over her slit, the sound I produce is that of a beast.
“Fuck,Zeek—”
Julien said her blood tasted divine, that he couldn’t describe it with words. Not even my mother tongue, as ancient as it is, has the vocabulary to capture it.
And now, I understand.
“Wider,”I growl in her mind.
And she obeys. Seems this brat could be tamed.
Which meant maybe I could persuade her to stay… Coercion is one of my many talents.
I lick, brush, thrust, feeding like a desperate, starving beast. Waiting to feel her on the brink, waiting until she’s producing those deadly, delicious sounds.
Her fingers are entangled in my hair, tightening. She’s almost there, pulsing around my fingers, clit throbbing against my tongue—
“You’ll stay,” I demand.
She’s so close, that all she does is whimper. I’m not even sure she hears me, and I smirk against her heat.
“Say it back to me.”I slow my pace, push my fingers in and out, thenslowlyback in, adding onelongsweep of my tongue.
Then stop.
She jolts, releasing a strangled groan at my lack of movement, and when I peer up, I’m met by hergloriousglare.
“Stay the night,”an order dressed in a purr.
My fingers sink deeper, retreat. Thrust, withdraw,neverlooking away, watching her eyelids flutter as she loses herself.
“Ana mea, this isheavenfor me.”Another hard, gradual lick, and she’s shuddering beneath my hands.“I will stay here, like this, all night. You will stay like this—all night.”She whimpers at the thought of never having that release.
“Shhhh, I’ve got you.”I increase the speed of my thrusts, and she falls back into a haze of need.“If you want to come,”I murmur,“you’ll stay.”
She whimpers again, but I need more.
