Page 50 of Hiss and Tell
I lift my arms, letting him pull it off, and the way he looks at me makes me feel beautiful, desired, perfect.
“Gods, Aspen,” he breathes, his hands reverent as they map my skin. “You’re so beautiful.”
When his mouth finds my nipple through my bra, I cry out, my back arching as pleasure shoots through me. His snakes curl closer, some brushing against my skin with touches that make me gasp.
But it’s more than just casual contact now. Two of his smaller snakes—not Evangeline, but others whose scales shimmer with golden undertones—begin tracing deliberate patterns across my collarbone and down my arms.
Their touch is silken, cool, creating trails of sensation that make me shiver with unexpected bliss. Another snake weaves through my hair, its scales catching against the strands in a way that sends tingles across my scalp.
“They’re… participating,” I gasp, amazed at how erotic their touch feels.
“Only if you want them to,” Sebastian murmurs, though his eyes burn with desire at my reaction. “They respond to what we both need.”
“I want them to,” I breathe, and immediately feel more of his snakes join the sensual dance, creating a symphony of touches that complement his hands and mouth perfectly.
“Sebastian,” I breathe as his mouth moves lower, pressing kisses to my stomach. “I need—”
“What do you need?” His voice is strained with control.
“You. All of you.”
His hands are gentle but urgent as he helps me out of my jeans, leaving me in just my underwear. When he settles between my legs again, his heat and his tempting nearness make me whimper.
“You’re so responsive,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my throat. “Every sound you make drives me crazy.”
His hands roam my body with increasing boldness, learning every curve, every spot that makes me gasp. When his mouth finds my breast again, skin to skin this time, I lace my fingers behind his neck and hold him to me.
“Sebastian, please,” I gasp as his hands slide lower, teasing the edge of my panties. “I need you to touch me.”
“Here?” His fingers ghost over me through the satin fabric between my legs, and I nearly come off the couch.
“Yes, there, please—”
When his hand slips beneath the lace, I cry out at the first touch of his fingers against my most sensitive places. He finds me already wet, ready, and the low growl that rumbles from his chest sends vibrations through me.
“So perfect,” he murmurs, his voice rougher now, deeper. “You’re so ready for me.”
His fingers explore me with reverent care, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me arch against him. When he finds that perfect spot, my back bows off the couch.
His fingers move with deliberate precision, one sliding deep inside me while his thumb circles the bundle of nerves that makes me see stars. “You’re so wet for me,” he growls, his voice dropping to frequencies that vibrate through my bones. “So ready.”
When he adds a second finger, stretching me, preparing me, I can’t hold back the moan that tears from my throat. “That’s it,” he encourages, his fingers curling to hit that magic spot inside me. “Let me hear how much you want this.”
“Sebastian, please,” I beg, not even sure what I’m asking for.
“I know what you need,” he says, and there’s something different in his voice now—something primal that makes my pulse race. “Let me taste you.”
Before I can respond, he’s sliding down my body, pressing kisses to my ribs, my stomach, the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. His snakes create a crown above his head as some brush my arms and shoulders with touches that make me shiver.
When he hooks his fingers in my panties and slides them down my legs, his eyes shift to that otherworldly golden glow that shoots a frisson of fearful desire through me.
“I’m going to taste every inch of you,” he promises, his voice rough with barely contained hunger. “And then I’m going to make you come on my tongue until you’re screaming my name and begging me to stop because you can’t take any more pleasure.”
The first broad stroke of his tongue through my folds makes me cry out, my hips bucking against his mouth. He tastes me like a man starved, his tongue delving deep to collect every drop of my arousal.
“Fuck, you taste like honey and sin,” he growls against my wet flesh, the vibration making me clench around nothing. “I could live between your thighs.”
When I arch against him, seeking more, his control snaps. His mouth becomes demanding, aggressive—tongue fucking me in deep, rhythmic thrusts that mimic what his cock will do to me later. He seals his lips around my swollen clit and sucks hard,making me scream his name so loudly I’m sure the neighbors can hear.
