Page 102 of The Call of Crimson
“Let me show you some of my favorite ways I see you,” Elijah says, his voice thick with emotion.
“Okay,” I breathe, keeping my eyes closed.
The view shifts, the perspective sliding away from my face and slowly down my body.
“What are you doing, Eli?” My voice trembles with uncertainty.
“Showing you one of my favorite views,” he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.
The image lowers, down my stomach, hovering over my hips. My breath catches as I feel his hands push up the hem of my nightgown, baring me to him.
The fabric slides over my hips, leaving me exposed.
I glimpse my navel as he lays a kiss there, then trails them languidly down to my pelvis.
The soft, dark curls come into view right as I feel his fingers brush lazily along my inner thigh. My legs are sharply pushed apart as the perspective changes once again.
I’m staring directly at my own sex, something I’ve never seen before.
Liquid heat pools in my core. The sight is somehow both erotic and overwhelming.
“Do you see that pretty pink pussy, darling?” Elijah murmurs. “How it’s already glistening for me?”
A soft moan escapes my throat at his filthy words.
“Use your words,” he growls.
“I see it,” I whisper.
“Good,” he praises, voice low and rough. “You’re about to see a whole lot more.”
That’s all the warning I get before he dives straight into my center, his tongue licking a firm line from my opening to my clit.
I whimper and write against his mouth.
From the vision in my mind, all I see are the soft folds of my body, flushed and glistening.
The sight is still undeniably arousing.
He slides two thick fingers inside me, curling them with deliberate precision, while his tongue flicks and sucks at my clit.
He devours me as if I am his last meal, savoring every inch of my tender, swollen need.
I cry out when he changes the rhythm, thrusting his fingers deeper, then curling them hard against that hidden place inside me. His tongue circles and presses, never letting up.
Pleasure builds sharp and fast, and then detonates.
“Fuck, Ophelia,” Elijah groans. “I wish my Gift worked with taste, too. I need you to taste how sweet you are.”
The view shifts again. He looks up at me from between my thighs, his lips shiny with my release.
His fingers gather my slickness and lift it to my mouth. “Open.”
Without hesitation, I part my lips, letting him slide his fingers inside. I suck them hungrily, savoring the tangy sweetness of myself.
A groan rumbles from his chest, and the next moment, he thrusts into me with a single, deep stroke
“Elijah,” I gasp, stretching to take him in.
