She went perfectly still. Her pulse fluttered against my palm.
"You said you wanted to be wrecked." My lips grazed her ear. "Did you mean it?"
"Yes."
"Then you follow my lead. You do what I say, when I say it." I slid the hand from her stomach down, tracing the line of her hip, theplane of her belly, the edge of her panties. "And when I tell you to come, you come. Do you understand?"
Her thighs clenched. "And if I don't?"
A dark laugh rumbled through my chest. "Then I'll make you."
I slid my hand beneath the waistband. Found her slick and swollen and soaking through the fabric. The breath left my lungs like I'd been hit in the solar plexes by a bowling ball.
"Fuck, Raven." I dragged two fingers through her folds, slow and deliberate. She was drenched. Dripping.
I pulled her panties down her legs, and she stepped out of them. Then I lifted her—one arm under her knees, one behind her back—and carried her to the bed. I laid her down in the dark, and for a moment, I just stood there.
Listening to her fast breaths as she waited for me.
She was sprawled naked across sheets I couldn't see, and every sound was amplified in the blackness. The rustle of fabric, the quick draw of breath, the scent of her arousal thick enough to taste.
I unbuckled my belt. The clink of metal made her inhale sharp. Jeans and boxers hit the floor.
"Milo? Where are you?" she whispered.
I knelt on the bed. Found her ankles. Wrapped my fingers around them and pushed her legs apart.
"Right here."
I kissed the inside of her knee. Then higher. The soft skin of her inner thigh, where the flesh gave way like velvet. She trembledunder my mouth, her hands fisting the sheets, her hips lifting toward me.
"Milo, please?—"
"Please what, little bird?"
The sound she made was somewhere between a moan and a sob. "Please touch me."
"I am touching you."
"You know what I mean."
I did. And I made her wait anyway.
I kissed my way up her thigh with agonizing care, letting my breath ghost across her pussy without making contact. She squirmed, arching off the bed, trying to close the distance.
I pinned her hips to the mattress with both hands and held her there just long enough to drive her insane.
Then I licked a slow, flat stripe through her folds. Her back arched off the bed, her hands flew to my hair, and a sound ripped from her throat. Raw and animalistic.
I groaned against her pussy and ate her like I'd been starving for it. And maybe I had. Maybe I'd been starving my whole goddamn life, and this—her taste, her heat, the way her thighs clamped around my head and her fingers pulled my hair until my scalp burned—was my first real meal.
I sucked her clit into my mouth, moaning as she cried out.
"Oh my god— Milo— I can't?—"
I slid two fingers inside her. Tight. So fucking tight that my cock jerked against the mattress, aching, leaking at the thought of being inside that heat. I curled my fingers, found the spot that made her whole body bow, and stroked.
"Come," I said against her. A command. Not a request.
