‘It’s been a while since I was a girl,’ I whisper, his eyes roaming over my skin once more as though seeking confirmation. Finding it in the curve of my breasts, and in the weight of them as he takes them in his hands. In the evidence of their hard peaks through the cream lace.
He doesn’t speak anymore. He doesn’t need to. His hands touch me in ways that make me feel treasured, then his lips follow with their praise. My bra comes loose without real sentience, his touch rough and tender in equal measure. The pads of his fingers. The drag of his blunt nails. My needy sigh as I turn, and he brings me between his splayed legs, his tongue sweeping out yet barely brushing my nipples.
‘Please,’ I whimper, pressing my body against his mouth when he takes my elbows, pulling them behind me. The position changes the experience in that instant. I feel and I see everything. The dark intent in his eyes as his soft breath blows over me. The pulse pounding in his neck and the echo of it deep between my legs.
My skin feels electrified as his mouth meets my breast, his teeth biting the curve. I cry out on a long, stuttering exhale, my nipples aching and hard, my skin singing out for more of this kind of torturous tease. The kind of rough relief only Beckett can give. Finally, he pulls the tight bud into his mouth, flicking, teasing, and circling his tongue. His fingers slide my panties over my hips as I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling like I need the assistance to stay upright.
‘Your skin is like moonlight,’ he whispers, his voice rasping and raw. ‘And your freckles are a constellation.’ His words are almost pondering as his hand trails across my collarbone, his eyes following. ‘And I’m going to cover them in cum.’
My reaction is visceral, my body jerking, the noise expelled from my chest a sharp vowel sound as I see exactly that in my mind’s eye—Beckett over me as milky ribbons splash my chest.
Immediately, and by some unspoken agreement, we begin to strip him out of his clothes. Tie pulled wide. Cuff links discarded on the floor. His custom-made cotton mistreated as the fabric is yanked from his body. My greedy hands run over his bare stomach and chest, the muscles reacting as I trail my nails over the warm ridges and crests, until my fingers reach the buckle of his belt, but only getting so far.Damn.
Flipping us over, Beckett lays me across the bed, adroitly inserting himself between my legs. His mouth teases and nuzzles, sucking on the inside of my thighs. Unexpectedly, I’m rudely cleaved, his hands sliding my knee higher to expose me as his tongue, arrow sharp, parts my flesh. I cry out at the contact, my hips bucking from the bed as the man over me just whispers, ‘Yes, that’s it.’
The heat of his words and his exhale blow across me, and I shiver, anticipation dialling my senses sky-high. With a swipe of his tongue, I almost levitate from the bed, but he avoids where I need him. Long swipes and shallow circles, dipping inside, his tongue arcing higher before starting again.
My body is a wire strung so tight it’s bound to snap, my hips chasing the cruel devotion of his lips and tongue when he bands my wrists with his hands, pressing them to the mattress, his rough reprimandingtskvibrating deliciously.
‘I’ve lost my place now. I’ll have to start again.’
‘Oh!’ I hear myself whisper, swapping my thrusting hips for a soft cry as he starts the process all over again, his tongue seductively narrowing, drawing maddeningly close to the place I need him before moving away again. I whimper, on the verge of tears, when he licks my thigh, adding to the torment.
‘Beckett, please.’ My words are a plea for release, a cry for clemency.
‘Please what?’ He doesn’t even stop, doesn’t lift his head.
‘I need you to...please!’
‘What is it that’s not working for you?’ It’s not a serious question. It’s a smug one that makes me almost flounce. Can you flounce while lying down?
‘Just, please.’
‘Maybe I will. When I’m ready.’ His hot breath blows over me again. ‘You’re as soft as silk here.’
My body is shaking as a result of his torment. He is a villain. The worst of men. But oh, my God, he should give up finance and do this for a living.
Just this. Just for me. And I’ll pay him however he sees fit.
Because it’s. Just. That. Good.
‘Just ...please!’
‘You do like that word, don’t you? Please what? Please where? Please...?’
‘Just. Suck on me. Lick me there. Touch it.’
And at my frantic demands, he does. He engulfs my clit with his lips. Sucks it. Kisses it. Makes out with my pussy until I’m writhing beneath him, thrashing wildly. He feeds his hands under me, drawing my hips up and my pussy to his face as he inhales me, sucking and swirling, flicking and repeating again and again until there are no more words. Or cries. Or screams. Just the feel of him tipping my being over into ecstasy. Light, heat, and the sensation of where his tongue meets my climax, my body rising to meet them both.
And when I finally come back to myself, he smiles up at me from between my legs with just the tiniest hint of cruelty.
‘Oh, God,’ I whisper, unable to manage much else. But he just licks me slowly, working me with the full flat of his tongue. ‘Beckett, please. It’s too much.’
‘No, darling. We’re only getting started.’
Chapter 22
BECKETT
