Page 34 of Carnival
“That’s it, my hellion,’’ he moans against my skin. “Let me hear you scream my name. Let me hear who’s making you feel this good.’’
My eyes roll to the back of my head in ecstasy, and the slow buildup in the pit of my stomach hits me hard. A loud scream of his name slips my lips, his name tasting like the sweetest, most forbidden fruit on my tongue.
“Does my good girl want to come?” He taunts, slowly lessening the intensity of thrusting his fingers. I swallow, droplets of sweat forming on my forehead as I look down at him.
Something monstrous is hidden within the depth of his brown eyes. I can’t quite put my fingers on it, but the way he’s looking at me promises that he has no intention of letting me go, no matter how much I try to escape.
If I run, he’ll chase. If I break the chains, he’ll cage me.
A deadly promise that I belong to him, mind, body, and soul. A sinister threat that if I try to find another, he’ll never let me see the light of day again. And somehow, I don’t mind it, because it means I’ll get to see those gorgeous eyes again.
“Yes,’’ I breathe out, and he starts pumping his fingers again, lips pressed against my pussy.
“Then come for me,’’ he commands, and the familiar sensation runs through my veins. “Let me see you fall apart for the man who owns you.’’
A loud moan comes from me, and I let go. My body trembles, toes curling as I come undone on his tongue, not daring to look away. So, I watch as he laps up my orgasm, sucking in the juices as if it were the sweetest candy he’s ever tasted.
James cleans me up thoroughly and then pulls back, a low, lazy smirk on his face, his chin glistening in my juice. It’s one of the most erotic sights I’ve ever seen.
Slowly, he takes off his shirt, and I have to force myself to close my mouth. His body is right out of a dream — the muscles I’ve been seeing through the fabric of his clothes are more jaw-dropping without anything covering them. His toned abs, covered in ink, grab my attention far more than I’d like.
Yes, I’d seen his hands before, and I’d seen him in a shirt, but I never would have imagined the amount of tattoos he has. I don’t think I’d be able to count them properly even if I tried. Some are in black, others are in color, but overall, it makes him more attractive — as if his damned gorgeous face and stunning eyes weren’t enough.
My eyes dip down, watching as he unbuckles his belt. He takes his time taking it off before unbuttoning his pants and sliding them off. His cock is already rock hard under his boxers, and my mouth waters at the sight.
My mind is flooded with memories of him fucking my mouth in the terror house, and I can practically feel the taste of his cum on my tongue. I lick my bottom lip, and the move doesn’t go unnoticed by James.
He chuckles, taking off his boxers.
His hands come to my hips, and he pulls me up into a sitting position, then sits beside me, leaning against the headboard. Before I can register what’s happening, he yanks me onto his lap, the tip of his cock aligned with my pussy, his precum mixing up with my arousal.
My breath hitches, and my body shivers as I stare into his eyes, unable to look away. The pull is magnetic, almost magical. One of his hands comes to my throat, yanking me forward, his lips smashing on mine.
He tastes like my worst nightmare, like he’s here to ruin me. And the tragic part? I’d let him ruin me, time and time again, if it meant kissing the sweetness on his lips.
His tongue pushes past the hem of my lips, tasting every inch of my mouth. I don’t even try to dominate the kiss — it’s futile. Not that I’d want to, anyway, because the exhilarating feeling of being completely at his mercy causes my stomach to clench in anticipation.
Slowly, he starts pulling me down on his cock, without breaking the kiss. I moan against his lips, his cock twitching inside me as he slams me down roughly, making me take all of his length at once.
My body arches, eyes swell with tears at the sudden intensity, and he just keeps me there, on his cock, kissing me deeply like there’s no tomorrow. My hands move up and thread through his hair, lightly yanking on it.
James groans against my lips, his kisses becoming more forceful as he releases the grip on my throat, placing the handon my other hip. He starts moving me up and down until I start following the rhythm he set.
I break the kiss for a moment, taking off my shirt and tossing it aside. His pupils dilate, growing darker at the sight of my bare chest. Like a madman, his mouth finds my breast, sucking on the nipple, dragging it between his soft lips.
“James,’’ I whimper, moving harder on him.
He was the first man I’d ever slept with. He was the first man to ever make me feel good — and the only one. After that night two years ago, I never even entertained the idea of sleeping with another man.
And now I understand why.
From the moment he touched me for the first time, my body belonged to him. No one else would ever be able to fill me as deeply as him; no one else would be able to make me feel desired as much as he does.
His hands roam all over my body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of my skin. His big palms cup my ass, squeezing it as he helps me move on him, pulling me down rougher, harder, and faster.
He switches to my other breast, giving it the equal amount of attention. He spanks my ass, roughly, the sound of his palm connecting to my flesh reverberating in the small room.
“Fuck,’’ he groans. “Every inch of your body was fucking made for me. Mine, mine, mine.’’
