Page 133 of Desperate Crimes
A whimper slips past my lips as his tongue slides along my soaked seam, every stroke designed to unmake me.
To make me his.
Not just in body.
In soul.
Desire coils inside me like a serpent rising, sinuous and molten.
My hips jerk against his mouth, my thighs framing his beautiful, wicked face as he flicks his tongue against my clit.
I can feel my orgasm teasing at the edge, but I can’t touch him.
My hands are bound.My fingers curl uselessly into fists.
I struggle, needing more, needing him.
He pauses.Raises his head just enough to growl, “Easy.You hurt yourself and I stop, understand?”
I nod.Shaking.Eyes wet.Lips trembling.
Because I do understand.
I understand that this man—my husband, my captor, my dark prince—lives to bring me to the edge.
And I don’t want him to stop.
Not now.
Not ever.
His mouth is everything.
Hot.Wet.Devouring.
His tongue works me like a man starved, like I’m the only sustenance he’ll ever take again.
Each flick, each stroke, each sinful suck pulls a desperate cry from my throat.
I am helpless under him, strung tight, bound to the bed, and unraveling thread by trembling thread.
“Look at you,” Nico rasps against me.“Tasting like sin.So sweet for me.”
I moan, hips straining for more.
He flattens his tongue and drags it slowly through my folds, his growl reverberating through my core.The vibration alone makes me cry out.
“That’s it, Princess.Let me hear it.Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to.”
My whole body clenches at the crude words—at the reverence beneath them.
No one’s ever spoken to me like this.No one’s ever worshipped me like this.
“I want you to come on my mouth,” he commands, voice thick with hunger.“Mark me with it.Let me taste what only I get to have.”
I break.
Pleasure crashes into me like a black tide, swallowing me whole.My back arches, muscles tightening, a scream caught somewhere between his name and the stars.
