Page 233 of Swallow Your Sorries

“Signed in your blood. Once I’ve had you, you’re really mine. In every way. You say we’re in a bubble, fine, but until it pops no takebacks. Your pussy is mine. Your heart is mine. Say you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Aren’t you going to ask anything of me?”

I can see in his eyes how much he wants me to ask.

“Am I someone to you?” I ask, suddenly hoarse. Scared even. “Someone that matters and not just someone you want revenge on?”

He nearly snorts. “You’re not justsomeone. I love you, Dovey. It doesn’t matter that you can’t say it back yet.”

Shock splits my lips and before I can get into my head, he uses the opportunity to tease my tongue with his and I just…melt. One minute my feet are on the floor, the next I’m on the table, on the makeshift bed with Gant between my spread legs. Instinctively, I spread them wider, and he grips my hips and draws me flush against him. Against his hardness.

I’ve missed feeling him.

I’ve missed him.

When we pull apart, he moves my hair from my right shoulder to my left and I follow his gaze to the grimy, but still reflective, glass walls.

“You look so good on me.”

Given that his fingers are under my ass and my legs are hooked around his hips, It does look like I’m on him. Like he’s holding me up his arms.

He leans forward, his forehead bumping into mine but I continue to watch us. Watch as he presses a soft kiss to my lips and mutters, “Imagine me in you.”

“Why do I have to imagine it?” I lick his bottom lip, and the tiniest little moan leaves his throat as I suck on it. “Let’s see it. Let’s watch it.” I nod at the glass.

He doesn’t hesitate, pulling at my pyjama shorts, and tugging them midway down my thighs to expose my bare sex.

“No panties?” he asks with a smile, his fingers already working their way between my folds. “Good. She needs to breathe.”

“Breathe? Aren’t you about to choke her?”

Those dark eyes grow hazy, the lids heavy as he pulls at each button on my top, popping them easily, slowly, one after the other. When the fabric parts, my tits bounce free and he watches their recoil, mesmerized.

“I could watch them for hours,” he says before sucking a nipple into his mouth and moving to the undersides, slipping his tongue deep beneath the crease to tickle the sensitive flesh. His fingers knead them, squeeze them and the brief shot of pain as he pinches my nipples, finds its way straight to my clit.

“You’re so perfect. And you don’t even know. You don’t know how badly I want you. How badly I need you.”

I believe him. In this moment I’d believe anything that he said because my brain’s too foggy to refute it. Every fibre of my being is on fire as his full lips ascend to my neck. As his tongue licks my pulse point. As his thumb works my clit and his other fingers slip into my pussy, curling right up onto that magical spot that makes me want to pull away from the overstimulation, even while I sink my hips as deep onto his fingers as they’ll go.

A shatter wracks me and I grab onto his shoulders to steady to myself, to continue the ride.

“Look. Look at yourself, dove,” he says against my neck and I crack my eyes open to follow his half-hooded gaze to the walls again. I’m clinging to him for dear life, a life his quickening fingers are desperately trying to take away from me. “No more cameras. No more audiences. You want someone to watch? You watch us. The entire time.”

“I don’t—” But the words leave me when he presses my thighs flat, offering me an immaculate angle of my slit, before he drops to his knees and his tongue slips inside of it.

Instead of his shoulders, I’m gripping his hair for dear life.

“That’s right, baby,” he says between licks. “Give me a facial.”

My eyes flicker from the glass, to between my legs where his face, the tip of his nose, his chin, and his cheeks are growing wetter, shinier by the second. The sight of him feasting and coated with me makes me tremble and buck off the duvet as he works me into a frenzy, that euphoric feeling he promised rising to a fever pitch within me. Until it explodes, and I feel it with a rush that makes me lock my legs and trap his head.

“You’re always so wet,” he says, and his voice sounds funny, distorted, as my legs finally fall open, though they’re still twitching with aftershocks. When he lifts his head, I see why. His mouth is somewhat full, and he’s showing me his tongue coated in a liquid too white to just be his saliva. Before I can blink, or think, he spits it on my tits, and the feel of it spattering against my nipples literally makes my pussy jump. Immediately he’s replacing his mouth with his fingers that I clamp around desperately, wantonly awaiting another explosion of euphoria.

His tongue is trailing my breast again. Licking, sucking, and kissing away my release like it’s his favourite flavour of anything. Then his lips are on mine. They’re so fucking soft. So wet.

The pads of his finger hit my g-spot again and my stomach contracts, my hips bucking.

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