Page 62 of Beautifully Shattered
I cry out, my nipples more sensitive than they’ve ever been, and he growls again, flicking his tongue faster in sync with his fingers working me between my legs.
This… this is doing something to me.
Before I even realise, my hands are fisting in his hair, gripping hard as I drag him closer, arching into him. Another low, animalistic growl rumbles from his chest, and I feel it against my nipple just before he closes his mouth around it, and then… ohhh… ohhh… hesucks.
I should stop this. I should pull back. But I can’t even think straight. Not with the friction of his fingers against my clit, and the way he draws on my nipple, his hot tongue lashing over it…
“Cam!” I cry out, breathless and desperate, my eyes squeezing shut before I force them open again, needing to watch him. “Oh my God… are you…”
I nearly scream as he sucks harder, his fingers working over my clit at a relentless pace, and in a blinding explosion that I’m not prepared for, I shatter into a million pieces in one of the longest, most intense orgasms of my life.
Oh. My…
The moment the enormous wave starts to fade, my knees buckle, but Ringo stands, catching me easily, holding me up as I bury my face in his chest.
For a longmoment, I stay quiet, my panting breaths the only thing I can hear as the weight of embarrassment settles over me at what we just did.
I just… let himdrinkfrom me.
I shake my head against his chest, but his big hands come up, gripping either side of my face, gently tipping my head back so I have to look up at him.
“I should’ve asked if you were still green. I’m sorry, Angel.”
Shit. The colour system.
It’s easy to forget in the heat of the moment, but the truth is, I would have stopped him if I really wanted to. And that’s the problem right there.
What I needed to get over the line isn’t right. Is it?
“I wasn’t red.” I breathe my admission, still flushed with shame at what I just let him do.
Did he do that just for me? It obviously worked, but at what cost to him?
Does he find my boobs vulgar now? Does he think I’m disgusting?
Did my milk taste awful?
“Were you orange?” he asks, his dark eyes dancing between mine.
“Wereyou?” I scoff, and he frowns.
“Fuck, no, Angel. I was, and always will be, green when it comes to you.”
Pressing my hands over his, I peel them from my face and shake my head, dropping my gaze to his chest.
“But you… that… I should have…”
His low chuckle pulls my eyes back to his.
“If you think for one fucking second that your tits and milk are a turnoff for me, then you areveryfucking wrong. That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever done.” He runs his hands over my soaked hair, his eyes piercing mine with fierce determination. “But I probably should’ve asked first. I’m sorry about that.”
I worry my lip between my teeth, considering his words.
If hehadasked permission to… drink from me, would I have said yes?
Probably not, if I’m being honest with myself. Not because the idea of it wasn’t a huge turn on, but because… it’s wrong, isn’t it?
Right now, my breasts are ababything, not asexthing… or are they?
