Page 103 of Malicent
Then, lower…
His palm cups the weight of my breast, thumb brushing over the peak of my nipples until a sharp pull coils deep within my gut. My breath stutters as my pulse pounds faster.
“I could be the most devoted worshiper,” he murmurs, “to something so divine.”
His voice is like a hymn, low and reverent.
“Maybe I’ll be condemned.”
He grins devilishly.
“Maybe I already am.”
He tugs on my nipples, sharp and slow.
My hands clench the skirts of my gown.
The dagger at my thigh burns hotter, reminding me of the task at hand and what must be done.
“Those pretty lips,” he murmurs. “They love to talk so much.” His other hand rises, firmly gripping my jaw.
“Use your words, Millicent,” he commands.
The huskiness in my own voice surprises even me.
“Did I say you could touch me?”
His eyes flash, completely consumed with hunger—with something dark—and I’ve only seen glimpses of it before.
Now?
Now it’s staring me down, and my heart won’t stop racing.
“You’re blushing, my little witch.” He pulls my face closer, sweeping his lips over mine but denying contact. “And these perfect tits—they’re throbbing, aren’t they?”
His voice is heat and hunter. It makes the ache worse.
His hand slides to my other breast, fingers toying with the aching bud, matching the same attention he gave the first.
“I wonder, where you would want my mouth first?” The deep, delicious pull in my stomach sinks lower, gathering between my thighs. I hate how responsive I am. I hate that he knows it.
“Inch by inch, I’d devour you,” he growls, his breath hot against my lips. “And still I’d hunger.”
His eyes are molten now, seeming to consume me. “I’d want to start with these lips that never stop mouthing off, just to pull moans from them instead.”
He pinches my nipple; my breath falters, and my traitorous body clenches low.
“Then, I’ll take each of these breasts into my mouth and feast like the starved man I am.”
He leans closer, lips skimming my jaw. “I could be a gentleman—take my time kissing down your body—but I’ve been left to starve far too long.”
The images he conjures in my mind fog my brain further, but the burn of the blade against my thigh fights to keep me here and on track.
He chuckles low, his breath fanning against my ear. “I want topraybefore you. Between your thighs. You’re probably soaking for me already, aren’t you, my little witch?”
His hand slides from my beast, tugging my gown lower and exposing my stomach inch by inch. His knuckles brush my skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
The soft fabric pools around my hips.
