Page 159 of Black Castle

Then a zap of pleasure wracks her body, her chest heaving as her eyes fall on the mass of white hair buried between her thighs.

The head lifts, a sly grin stretching across the lips of the perpetrator, the lips that are covered in her juices.

“What the—”

“Do me a favor and keep quiet.” The word rumbles from his chest as he tucks out a tongue, swiping it across his lower lips. “I’m trying to eat.”

Heat pools low on her stomach as his face disappears between her thighs again, his tongue diving back into her pussy.

“Get away from me.” Her voice is merely a whisper, which is disappointing because she wanted to sound firm and in control.

“I already did that,” he says between wet kisses along her thigh. “For seven days, Mrs Raskovic. I’m not usually that generous, you know.”

“Don’t…” She takes in a sharp breath, stifling a moan when the pad of his fingers brush her throbbing clit. “Don’t touch me.”

Rolling his fiery eyes, he lifts himself from the position he is in, stretching his large body over her petite one. His lips dive between her neck, brushing against her skin, leaving behind a trail of flame.

“In case you didn’t realize it,” he whispers huskily against her ear. “I miss my wife dearly. I miss her scent, her body, her fucking moans, and god help me, I miss her perfect pussy.” Vivienne clenches her thighs to nurse the burn.

“So forget touching, ladybird.” His teeth sinks into the soft flesh below her ear, his tongue swiping out to numb the sharp ache. “I’ll be inside you tonight.”

A soft gasp is all she utters as his lips claim hers in a possessive, lingering kiss. And as much as she wants to fight him off, to not be like this with him—weak—she finds herself kissing back, catching up with his pace, opening her mouth when he demands access, her fingers intermingling in his silky hair as the kiss turns hungry, deep, demanding.

Briefly, he breaks away from the kiss to pull the soft material off her body, tossing it aside before his lips find her again. His hands are all over her body, kneading her breasts, gripping her hips as he grinds his clothed cock against her opening.

His low groan vibrates against her lips as he presses his body to her searing one, his heat overwhelming, his weight pinning her down in the most overwhelming way.

The rough friction of his clothed length brushing against her bare, aching core sends a jolt of pleasure up her spine.

“Do you feel that?” His voice is husky, his lips brushing hers. “That’s what this pussy fucking does to me. Five nights without it, I felt like dying.”

His hands move with purpose, fingers mapping her skin, gliding down her sides gripping her thigh as he spreads them wide. A shudder wracks her spine as he shifts, his cock pressing harder against her entrance, teasing but refusing to give her what she now craves.

“Zev…” She sounds breathless, needy, desperate, but her protest is swallowed by another searing kiss, deep, possessive, and consuming, breaking every ounce of her resolve.

His tongue swipes against hers, his teeth nipping at her lower lip, but he soothes the burn with a slow, deliberate lick.

He is intoxicating, a mixture of whiskey and sin, then a hint of coffee. And when he pulls back, Vivienne is left panting, lips tingling as her body thrums with anticipation.

His eyes roam her face, and something stormy and fiery settles in them, and another thing she can’t name. Then he lifts his body off her, ripping his shirt off his body, and then his pants and boxers.

The dim light casts a shadow over his pale and inked skin, highlighting the ridges of his muscles.

His skin is warm when she touches him, burning when his body presses against her naked one, his chest brushing her breasts and swollen nipples.

“I wish there’s a mirror where you can see yourself right now.” His fingers trail down the valley of her breast, her flat stomach, and stop where she desperately wants him the most. “So flushed, desperate, fucking mine.”

The last word is a growl as his hand slides lower, fingers dipping between her folds, spreading her pussy lips and circling her throbbing clit.

Vivienne arches off the bed, a gasp slicing past her lips as pleasure crackles through her nerves like a fire licks at dry wood.

“You know you’re a fucking hypocrite right?” He looks at her through the curve of his frosty lashes, his fingers stroking her slowly, lazily, making her whimper and nearly beg. “Always making a villain out of me. Telling me not to touch you. Yelling that you don’t want this. Making it sound like I’m taking advantage of you, and yet here you are, as always, dripping, begging me to fuck you, to bury my cock inside your needy pussy and fuck your little brains out. You’re so fucking fake, ladybird.” He rolls her clit between his fingers, earning a desperate cry from her. “But don’t worry, we have enough time. Soon, I’ll straighten you out.”

His words are true. There’s not a lie there. Even she hates herself for how quickly her body answers his touch when all she wants to do is stay away from him. But she can’t seem to control her stupid body the moment he is in the picture. Even now, she feels ashamed. She wants to push him off, but when he slides two fingers inside her, curling them just right, she falls apart.

Her hips roll against his thrusts, her thighs quaking, a series of moans echoing off her lips while he groans in response to her body’s reaction to his touch.

“Yes, that’s it.” His coaxes, his thumb circling her clit, his fingers working her open. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel. Let me own all your pleasures.”

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