Page 72 of Burn for Me

My calf itches, and my skin starts to warm, so my legs spread to avoid the heat.

“Look at you spreading your legs like a good little whore for your husband.”

“I was trying to get away.” I bite out, but it trails into a soft moan as the fabric of his mask dampens against my skin from the trail of kisses he starts to leave up the flesh.

“Now you’re just trying to rile me up, aren’t you? You know I like it when you fight.” His words muffle against my flesh as my thighs clench around his head involuntarily. It’s as if my body responds without my mind's permission.

“You'll submit, though. You always do.”

A chill spreads across my skin, and I suck in a breath through my teeth, realizing it's not from something cold; it's a tingling sensation from getting hot. That thought causes me to force my eyes open to see where he hovers the makeshift wand above my shorts.

“Don’t let it burn me.”

It’s funny how I always end up a pleading, begging mess when he puts me in these positions, but I don’t mind. Especially since it never fails to draw his attention. He loosens his grip on the handle, letting his fingers brush delicately against the fabric of my shirt.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Darlin’.” The flames lick dangerously close to my abdomen while the horrid smell of burning fills the air, making my stomach churn. In an instant, my thoughts fade away as he nuzzles his nose along the fabric of my shorts. A warm blush spreads across my cheeks, deepening in color when he lets out a low, approving hum that sends a shiver down my spine, contradicting the warmth I feel.

“Sam! You’re going to get it on your mask.” I push at his shoulders, and he growls in response, curling one hand around the back of my thigh and pulling me closer. I yelp, gripping the mattress to avoid the flame as it gets too close to my skin. If he’s affected by the way my heartbeat drops to my clit, he doesn't show it. Instead, he nudges my shorts, pushing them aside.

“Good.” He groans, and I squirm against the fabric, grazing back over my pussy, itching the soft surface. The fact he doesn’t pull away or make an attempt to prevent my juices from soaking the fabric but presses his mouth straight to my core and nuzzles into my clit instead has my head tilting and my eyes fluttering.

It’s becoming harder to focus on the flames so close by as a tingling sensation spreads from my toes up to my nose. So, I watch them dance in hooded brown depths instead.

This time he moves his mouth slower up to my clit and sucks hard enough it pulls with the fabric into his mouth. My back arches, and his nails dig into my skin with the force it takes to hold me still. The skull's corners pull into an impression of a smile, yet it feels anything but warm. It resembles a predator who has just captured its prey and is preparing to tear it apart.

He releases the bundle of nerves with a muffled pop, and I wince as the rough texture scratches my nub, sending an odd amount of pleasure and pain.

“Be a good girl and pull up my mask so I can taste you properly, yeah?”

I don’t want to move. It’s embarrassing enough that he’s barely touched me, and I already feel like the tight rope in my abdomen is about to snap. I don’t need my trembling hands to give it away as well. Those intense eyes narrow, and an eyebrow raises as I remain motionless.

Taking a deep breath, he stands and slowly pulls the rag from the wand, dropping it to the floor. As the flame goes out, he kneels at the edge, but before I can push myself out of his hold, he has already pulled me in his direction.

“Fires gone. It's just you and me.” He mutters as he places his lips on the healing handprint on my thigh. I gently push the fabric until it rests across his nose. Now that I can see the stubble lining his jaw and his canine tooth coming into view as his tongue runs over it, my muscles relax. I'm tempted to tell himthat it wasn't his pyro tendencies that had me frozen, but now that that’s out of the way, I will play with him like he does with me.

"I told you that you always submit." He laughs, but my palm meets his head sharply before he can lower again. Watching his nostrils flare in agitation is the highlight of this whole situation because, for this brief moment, I know I'm testing his patience.

I'm on the verge of making him lose control.

“You didn't say ‘please.’” I tease, tilting my head innocently. He shifts his hand to grip the handprint bruise, a warning evident in the flex of his fingers as if that would stop me now. I lean closer, enjoying the way he is kneeling at my feet, worshiping my skin with his mouth as he gently withdraws my shorts from my body.

“Beg me to let you eat my pussy like a good husband.”

The words aren't entirely out of my mouth before he brushes his fingers through my lips with a wicked grin.

“Please,” he rasps without hesitation and dips his pointer into my hole, “let me worship you like the goddess you are.”

I draw in a deep breath, trying not to react to the way I clench around him or how he drags his tongue towards the apex of my thigh, hovering before he reaches the peak.

“Will you kindly let me fuck you with my tongue?” He laughs, his breath hitting my clit, making me suck in a hiss through my teeth.

“I’d appreciate it if you gave me the honor of making you come with my mouth.” With that, he withdraws his finger and circles my cunt. I brace my hands behind my back and watch his head slowly drop as if he’s genuinely waiting for permission.

With a nod of my head, there is no time wasted before his mouth is back at me, vigorously lapping at clit as he plunges another finger deep into my velvet heat. I writhe against the wayhe begins curling his knuckles until I feel like I'm levitating off the bed.

It's like watching a starving, savage animal. His teeth graze my skin, and his fingers dip into my flesh as drool drips down his chin. Not only does he look at me like I'm a meal, but I’m slowly learning that he mightactuallysee me as one.

There's too much happening, and my body is buzzing with the need to focus on one thing at a time before I become overstimulated. It's too late, though; I'm already pulling at the sheets and bracing a hand on his shoulder, trying to decide whether I need to pull him closer or push him away.

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