I’m lost in the taste of him, sin and salt and raw need. Clean skin, faint musk, and something darker, almost metallic, like the edge of violence still clinging to him.
His cock is velvet steel in my mouth, the heavy weight of him stretching my lips wide as I slide down, licking along the thick vein underneath. Every throb pulses against my tongue, hot and alive, the head nudging the back of my throat as I take him deeper, greedy for every inch he’s never given anyone. He’s so hard it feels like he could bruise me, yet the skin is silk-smooth, slick with my spit and the steady leak of precum that coats my tongue with a faint, addictive sweetness.
I moan around him, the vibration pulling a broken groan from his chest, and I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks, because I want to give him every ounce of pleasure he’s never had. I want him to know what it feels like when you surrender yourself willingly. Without threats or violence or pain.
Reth’s hips snap forward, but he catches himself, fists digging into the table.
Then I feel it. The quality of his stillness changing. His breathing stutters, goes shallow and ragged, then nearly stops altogether as his eyes drift, glazing over with something haunted and far away, like the past is reaching up through his skin to drag him under.
I stop and pull off him. “Fist my hair.”
He blinks, focuses, and finds me.
“Both hands.” I take his wrists and guide them to the back of my head. “Grip tight. Take control. You decide, set the pace. This is yours.”
“Sophia—”
“This. Is. Yours.”
A breath passes before I lick up his shaft and take him back into my mouth. For one long, trembling second, he hesitates, fingers twitching against my scalp like he’s terrified of what he might do. But something primal wins and his fingers slide into my hair, slowly at first, almost reverent before they tighten into fists. The pull is firm, commanding, and when he looks down at me again, the uncertainty is still there, but it’s burning now, edged with pure, barely-leashed need.
“You’ll tell me if I hurt you,” he bites out between clenched teeth, and I lightly nod, gathering more spit to coat his cock. “God, your mouth.”
I flick my tongue across the crown, and he hisses, his breathing turning ragged.
The grip in my hair tightens, and with a guttural groan, he starts guiding me, pushing my head down harder, forcing more of his thick length into my throat. Deeper. Faster.
Ruthless now.
Every line of him is tense, his shoulders rigid as he starts to fuck my mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of my throat on every thrust.
Spit drips down my chin, tears prick my eyes, but I don’t pull away. I take it. I take every brutal inch as he loses himself, usingmy mouth with single-minded hunger, chasing the pleasure he’s never allowed himself before.
His whole body locks up violently, like steel cables about to snap, a raw, broken sound ripping from deep in his chest—half groan, half growl—but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. Not even for a second. Not when the first thick, powerful spurt of cum explodes across my tongue.
“Fuuuck,” he bites out, jaw clenched. “It’s yours. My cum. All of it. Just. Yours.”
Endless pulses flood my mouth so fast and so much that I choke on his jerking cock. An animalistic sound tears out of him, loud and shattered, as he keeps coming, shuddering violently, pumping load after load down my throat until it spills from the corners of my lips and drips down my chin in warm, sticky streams.
He comes like a man who’s never been allowed pleasure before—like his entire body is finally breaking open for the very first time. And it’s the most sensual, filthy, erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
His cock is still hard in my mouth when he grabs my shoulders and pulls me to my feet, slamming his lips on mine, tongue sweeping through my mouth that’s still flooded with his cum.
The taste is sharp and dark and so weirdly addictive, and I can feel his whole body shiver against me as he groans into my mouth, spreading fingers across my shoulders and dragging me flush to his chest. He devours me, tongue wild, smearing his own taste on my lips. It’s obscene and a little savage and a lot messy, but perfect, because nothing about me or him or us is neat.
If there’s a way to conquer someone with a kiss, we manage it in this moment, both of us tasting ruin and devotion and a hundredother impossible things. I want to tear the whole moment from the world like a page from a book and eat the paper.
He breaks the kiss first, breathing loudly, and cupping my face. “I’m not capable of love. But if I were, it’s you. It’s only ever been you.”
Overwhelmed and a little lightheaded by how fast his words break me open, I sway in his arms. This is the moment I lose my mind a little. Because this man? This man is a category five hurricane, and I want to be the coastline he levels, the city he floods, the earth he drowns. I want to be the last thing he ever ruins.
I want to be…his.
24
RETH
She sleeps like she does everything else—completely.
