She trembles, shuddering, gasping.
I latch onto her clit, sucking the erect little bead into my mouth while I thrust my thumb between her slit and the tip of my pointer-finger into her puckering arsehole, provoking a yelp of surprise that trails to a heedless whimper.
I scoop my fingers together, pinching her inner wall, working both digits in harmony. She contracts, locking onto my fingers. Her clit buzzes beneath my tongue, and I massage and knead as she comes apart with a violent cry.
Good girl.
That’s it.
I drag her pleasure out with relentless attention—to her clit, to her inner muscles, to the wall inside her arsehole— demanding multiple orgasms at once. Her cry echoes around us, and her body gyrates.
“Sir. Yes. Yes. That. Yes!” She gasps for air between words, staking her surrender with every jerky syllable. Her cries crack, then soften into a stream of moans as she rides the wave of release crashing across her body.
I lavish her trembling flesh with gentle flicks of my tongue, wringing out the last tremors of her pretty orgasm.
When her muscles finally slacken, I lift my lips from her skin, tasting the sweetness she’s left behind.
Looking up at her—my fucking queen—I draw my fingers from inside her. “Does my sweet girl feel worshipped?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She trembles, completely spent, pink and warm across her chest and thighs. “Was I loud?”
“Beautifully, so.” I rise to my full height, forcing her to crane her neck. I gaze down, seeing her embarrassment pinken her nose and cheeks. “Don’t worry, little deer. These rooms are soundproof.” I brush my knuckles down her flushed cheek. “I like you blushing for me. Where are your sharpened teeth now, sweet girl?”
“Sheathed.” She beams.
“That’s good, little deer.” I fight my ridiculous grin. “I do hope you don’t have to use them often.” Not now that she has had her pretty little revenge.
a pretty big wedding
You are invited to the wedding of:
Fawn Harlow & Clay Butcher.
If you are a hardcore Butcher Boy fan, please download your Butcher Boy Bingo sheet here. Print it out and cross them off as they happen.
Enjoy
A Pretty Big Wedding.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
fawn
The day before the wedding
Her meows are incessant.
“Luna, you little troublemaker,” I murmur as I slip out of bed. Shadows move around the room. Luna twists between my ankles, batting playfully at my toes. She is not hungry. The little diva just wants to play.
“Careful.” I bend to scoop her into my arms, her purring a warm rumble against my chest.
Today marks the end of my life as Fawn Harlow. By nightfall tomorrow, I'll be Mrs Clay Butcher.
Sleep should have come easily, knowing how long I've dreamed of this day, but it teased me all night. Maybe it was anticipation keeping me awake, or maybe it was the cold sheets beside me after Clay slipped out at three a.m. to meet Alceu's plane. Maybe it was the monster in my closet, a tiny black box-shaped monster that needs to be removed.
That’s job one for today.
