Page 97 of Savage Sacrifice
“Strip for me,” he commands, taking another step back, and I gape at him for a moment. He can’t be serious. But he is, I can see it in his eyes. It’s not there alone, though; it’s combined with hunger. For me.
Tugging my hoodie over my head, I shake the material off before discarding it at my feet. I quickly kick my sneakers off too before I reach for the waistband of my sweatpants, but I hear my name like a prayer on his lips, and it makes me pause. When I meet his heated gaze, he whispers one word.
“Slower.”
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip as I do as he commands, and move slower. My pants slowly drag over my thighs before pooling at my feet, revealing the black lace panties beneath. I leave them in place as I reach for the hem of my t-shirt.
Watching him watch me steals my breath as his eyes track my every movement. Gradually exposing my stomach, before the swell of my lace-clad breasts comes into view, I take my top off to flash my matching black lace bra.
“These too?” I ask when I’m standing in just my underwear, my voice sultry, catching even me by surprise as he swipes histongue over his lips, nodding instead of using actual words, and I love leaving him speechless.
I run my fingers over my chest, ghosting my collarbone as I tease the edge of the lace, running my fingertips between the valley of my breasts before I reach for the clasp. The lace slackens around me as I slowly let it drape down my arms to unveil my breasts, pebbled nipples and all.
“You want to take away all of my modesty?” I ask, letting the bra fall to the floor as I turn my attention to my panties, and he snickers.
“I want all of you,” he replies huskily, making my thighs clench together with desire.
I’m certain I’ve never moved slower as I slip my hands beneath the waistband of my panties, moving inch by slow inch to reveal my needy pussy to him. I don’t stop until the lace hits my knees, then pools at my feet, leaving me draped in nothing but my desire.
Cocking a brow at him, he reaches a hand over his head, grabbing a fist full of his t-shirt before tugging it off effortlessly. It shouldn’t be that hot. He kicks his shoes off, standing in nothing but his worn black jeans.
“Release me,” he commands, nodding toward the prize in question as his arms remain relaxed at his sides.
I take a single step toward him before my own craving fuels my next move, forcing me to my knees. His eyebrows rise to his hairline in surprise as I lean forward, hands splayed on the floor, and with my eyes fixed on his, I do what I know he loves, what hecraves; I crawl.
Without command or order, but because I want it. I want to be under his control, I want to see his desire. I said I wanted to clear my mind by focusing on him, worshipping him, and that’s what I intend to do.
I don’t stop until I’m right in front of him, forcing him to dip his head to keep his eyes on me. Silently, I reach for the button on his jeans, leaning back on my heels as I work it free before the sound of his zipper echoes in the air to reveal another layer of fabric blocking me from what I really want: his cock.
Black boxer shorts are now at the top of my hate list, but I don’t let it stop the need coursing through my veins.
Moving closer, I brace my hands high up his thighs, my gaze locked on the outline of his cock beneath his boxer shorts before I press my nose against the fabric.
A sharp inhale comes from above as he practically vibrates beneath my touch. Spurred on, I run the tip of my nose against the bulge of his length as I slip my hands into the waistband of his jeans and let the material crumple at his feet.
He doesn’t move to kick the denim away, seemingly too distracted by the subtle attention I’m giving his dick, so I leave them there, bringing my hands back up to his thighs. The second I feel the material of his boxer shorts, I slip my fingers beneath, traveling up his leg as I nuzzle against his cock.
A grunt is followed by a slew of curse words running from his tongue, filling me with a level of glee I’ve never felt before. Making sure to keep my face pressed against his bulge, I look up at him through my lashes.
The restraint is apparent. His body is wound tight as he gapes at me, shaking his head.
“Everyone here has been dancing to your needs in desperation because you’re back,” he states, and I blink at him. “I want to do that too,” he rasps, ghosting his fingers over my hair, and I sense the word in the air.
“But…”
His tongue peeks out again. “I want you to dance to me, I want your desperation for my cock.”
Damn.
The hunger in his eyes is… intoxicating.
Inching my hands higher up his thighs, still beneath his boxer shorts, I keep my gaze fixed on his as I swipe my tongue over his cock, material and all. The fabric softens beneath my touch as I lap at his length, desperate, raking my teeth over him before I lower my lips to lap at his balls.
His chest heaves with every swipe I take, and it only empowers me more.
When my hands meet the apex of his thighs, I dig my fingers in, clawing at him, and he snarls, all throaty and needy, and my hips flex, grinding for purchase, but I come up short. The move makes my chest bounce, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Asher, whose eyes widen as his pupils dilate.
“Look at your perky tits. Are you needy for me, Silver?” he growls, and I drench his boxer shorts more as I nip at him.
