Page 121 of Marrying the Savage

I keep her there with one arm across her hips and take my time ruining her. Tongue flat. Then pointed. Slow circles. A firmer suck that makes her cry out and press her heel into the mattress. One finger slides back inside her, then another, careful but deep, curling until I find the place that made her go silent in the study.

There. Her whole body tightens.

I do it again. Her thighs shake around my shoulders.

“Please,” she gasps.

I lift my mouth just enough to speak. “Please what?”

She makes a furious sound. “Don’t make me say it.”

I press my thumb lightly over her clit instead of my mouth.

She curses.

I nearly laugh. “Say it.”

Her breathing is wild now, her cheeks flushed, breasts bare and rising with each pant, silk tangled around her hips. She looks wrecked. She looks alive.

She looks like mine.

“Make me come,” she whispers.

I lower my mouth again.

This time, I don’t tease. I suck her clit and fuck her with my fingers until her hips roll helplessly against my mouth, until her hands twist in my hair, until her voice breaks into soft, shocked cries that grow higher and closer together. Her body begins to clench around my fingers, wet and tight, and I feel the orgasm gather in her before she understands there is no stopping it.

“That’s it,” I murmur. “Give it to me.”

She comes hard. Her back arches, thighs locking around my shoulders, hands pulling at my hair while pleasure takes her in waves. I keep my mouth on her through the first sharp pulse, then the next, gentling only when she starts to shake too much and her breath becomes thin.

When I lift my head, she’s staring at the ceiling like it has personally betrayed her.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

She turns her head and sees. Her eyes darken.

I rise over her. She reaches for me before I touch her, hands going to my belt with a confidence that lasts exactly three seconds before the buckle defeats her.

I let her struggle.

Her eyes narrow. “Don’t look amused.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“A little.”

“I hate your belt.”

“It has done nothing to deserve that.”

“It’s in my way.”

That kills the last of my restraint. I take over, unfastening the belt, opening my trousers, freeing my cock. Her gaze drops immediately. Then stays there.

Her face changes.