Page 195 of Reign

The scent of her arousal hits me like a drug—sweet, filthy, and so fucking wet I can smell how badly her pussy needs me. My mouth waters instantly.

My hands push her dress higher, bunching the fabric beneath her breasts, giving me the perfect view of her legs spread open, pussy covered only by those damp panties.

I drag one finger slowly along the soaked center. “Look at this,” I murmur, voice low. “Already dripping for me and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”

She shifts restlessly against the ties. “Then stop staring and do it.”

“Don’t rush me. I’m admiring.”

I adjust myself between her legs and press my mouth to her through the fabric. The first contact makes her gasp. I drag my tongue in one long, deliberate stroke over the wet satin. The taste of her seeps through immediately. My cock throbs hard against the mattress.

I do it again, slower, pressing the smooth fabric right against her clit and rolling my tongue over it until her hips jerk. The sound she makes is broken and greedy.

“Fuck,” I groan against her, the word vibrating into her pussy. “You taste even better than you smell.”

I suck her through her panties, hard, letting the wet satin drag over her clit while my hands hold her thighs open. The more I lick, the wetter the fabric gets, the more her scent fills my head. I could stay right here for hours.

I want to.

I want this every day—her tied open in my bed, making these sounds, looking at me with those defiant eyes even while her body begs.

Elena Amato is fucking perfect. Sharp mouth, stubborn pride, and a pussy that drips the second I put my hands on her.

I keep eating her through the panties until her thighs start shaking and her breathing turns frantic. Then I stop.

She cries out in pure frustration, hips lifting, chasing a mouth that isn’t there anymore.

I sit up just enough to look at her, still tasting her on my lips, and laugh softly.

“You wanted me to control your orgasms,” I remind her, voice rough with amusement. “That’s what this means.”

Her eyes flash. “I didn’t say you could be mean about it.”

I laugh again, genuine and low, because I love the way she looks when she’s frustrated—flushed, panting, trying to glare at me.

“Oh, princesa,” I murmur. “We’re just getting started.”

I press my lips to her through her panties one last time. She gasps sharply, hips jerking against the silk ties. Then I hook the soaked fabric aside.

The second my mouth meets her bare pussy I almost groan.

Fuck.

It’s even better without the barrier. Hotter. Slicker. Sweeter.

I drag my tongue through her in one long, greedy stroke and the taste of her floods my mouth—thick, salty-sweet. My hands settle on her hips, fingers digging into soft flesh and holding her still while I bury my face between her thighs like a man who’s been starving for exactly this.

I keep looking up at her.

Her head tips back against the pillow, lips parted, those defiant eyes already going glassy. Every little whimper that slips out of her goes straight to my cock.

I lick her deeper, flatter, then seal my mouth over her clit and suck hard, rolling my tongue against her clit until her thighs start trembling violently in my grip.

She’s so fucking close.

I can feel it. I want to give it to her. I want to feel her come apart on my tongue, want to drink every drop while she shakes and sobs my name.

But she asked for control.