Page 178 of Before Dawn

I giggled.

His hands twitched violently, his control hanging by a thread. “Abigail,” he warned, his voice breaking.

I let my fingers dance along the waistband of his boxers,slow,lazy,maddening, watching as his entire body locked up.

“I don’t know,” I teased, my lips ghosting over him again, the heat of my breath making his cock jump. “You’re being very impatient, Mikkel.”

His head dropped back against the couch, muscles pulled so tight he looked like he might snap.

“Mierda,104” he gritted, his fingers digging into his thighs so hard his knuckles went white.

Then, soft, desperate, ruined. “Baby. Please.”

My stomach fluttered, because fuck, I loved seeing him like this—wrecked, desperate just for me.

I ran my tongue along the thick outline of him again—slow, deliberate, just the barest pressure—and his full-body jolted.

“Ah, fuck,” he whimpered, his breath stuttering out.

His hips lifted, involuntary, desperate, chasing the heat of my mouth.

I pulled back again.

And he groaned, loud, tortured, head falling forward as he throbbed visibly in his boxers, body coiled tight, aching.

I traced him so softly it was barely a touch, just the tips of my nails dragging over the swollen length of him, and his entire body shuddered.

“You’re shaking,” I whispered, my voice sweet, taunting.

Mikkel let out a strangled, wrecked groan, thighs tensing around me, chest rising and falling like he just ran a fucking marathon.

“Red,” he panted, his voice so hoarse it barelymade a sound.

Then, half Spanish, half broken breath. “Por favor, mi amor. No puedo más.105”

My smirk deepened, thrill rushing through me, because finally,finallyI had him where I wanted him.

“Yeah?” I mused, trailing my tongue along his waistband, feeling his cock twitch violently beneath me.

His whole body twitched.

“Yeah,” he choked, wrecked beyond recognition, trembling under my hands.

I hooked my fingers under the band of his boxers.

Mikkel held his breath, his entire body going still, bracing for it.

Then, finally, I pulled them down—slow, torturous, letting him feel every single second of relief creeping in.

And when my mouth finally touched him, Mikkel let out a guttural, broken groan. His head snapped forward, fingers tangling in my hair like he never intended to let me go.

“How’d you get it?” My fingers traced over the piercing, feeling his body tense beneath my touch.

Mikkel’s breathing hitched. “I don’t really wanna talk about that when you’re…” He paused. “Fuck, baby.”

“When?” I squeezed harder, my hand moving with deliberate slowness. I wanted to hear him say it.

He exhaled.“Abigail.”

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