Page 81 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
He feeds his hand through the lace, curls it into a fist, and then yanks, ripping it clean off.
The tips of my fingers are sore from where I’m gripping the pillar, and my breaths are short and needy.
Then something hot, wet, and firm presses against my clit.
OhGod.
He hums his approval, sending tendrils of fire across every inch of my body.
Taking hold of my hips, he licks me hard and slow, from the uppermost tip of my clit to the puckered opening of my bottom. An animalistic moan escapes my throat, but I’m too far intoxicated to care.
His tongue circles my entrance, and when I’m thoroughly soaked and slippery, the cool underground air dances over me. He leans into me again and laps at my pussy with a focus bordering on obsessive, the pressure increasing gently with the speed of his tongue.
I press my forehead harder into the cold concrete and close my eyes.
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” he murmurs between licks. “I didn’t know sin could taste so damn sweet.”
He makes a long humming sound and then pulls back before turning me around in his thick hands. My eyes remain closed, because I don’t want to lose this feeling. I know how treasonous this is; I know I should put a stop to it. But, for the life of me, Ican’t. I want to be the sweet sin on the flat of his tongue for as long as I live.
His palms spread my thighs until I’m standing wide-open, my back against a pillar, with a dangerous man’s hot breath on my pussy. His fingers pull my folds apart, and he leans in and flicks his tongue lightly over my clit. A groan of desperation leaches from my lungs into the damp air.
He presses a finger to my opening and rims it, the sound of wet flesh filling the stone-cold silence. My arousal drips to the floor, and I couldn’t care less.
“Fuck yes. Shiver for me, my beautiful girl.”
He rests his hands lightly on my trembling thighs as though he’s relishing the fact I’m incapable of controlling my body’s response to him. When he leans into me, coating his whole face with my arousal, I sob with relief.
He works his mouth over my entire pussy, fucking my opening with his wicked tongue and suckling at my clit like it’s a nipple.
My head falls back while I grip his thick hair between vibrating fingers.
With his lips firmly attached to my swollen nub, he shifts his angle and slips a finger halfway inside of me. My moan is high and breathless.
He finds a delectable rhythm between circling my pussy and lapping at my clit, which has me panting breathlessly, riding the edge of bliss.
Then, as if he isn’t getting enough, he lifts me off my feet and brings me down onto his face.
My hands reach overhead and grip onto the edges of the pillar as he rocks me back and forth over his mouth. Untethered, desperate breaths are pumped out of my chest as I barrel toward absolute ecstasy.
“Cristiano,” I whisper hoarsely. “Make me come.”
He moans onto my clit and curls his tongue inside my heat. Then my vision explodes into a million stars. He doesn’t let up. He keeps rocking me on his face, and I keep coming. It’s so dirty and so wrong, and I never want him to stop.
My legs are shaking so hard he doesn’t lower me to the floor. Instead he drags his mouth to my upper thigh and French kisses it all the way down to my knee, while I shudder weakly on his shoulders.
He stands before I can protest, and I almost choke on the hunger in his eyes.
His earlier words dance in my ears.“If we’d had sex, you’d still be feeling me in your stomach.”
Suddenly, I want to feel him in my stomach. I want to feel him everywhere. A shadow drapes itself over my consciousness.
“What is it?”
I lift my gaze to his. “It hasn’t worked.”
“What hasn’t worked?”
“I thought scratching that itch would help me ...”
