Page 113 of Wicked Minds
Tongue flicking against my skin, he sucks on my neck where Grayson’s mark still lingers, replacing it with his own branding. One of his hands slips beneath the hem of my top, gliding up my stomach, and fingers trailing over my ribs until one heavy, full breast is cupped in the palm of his hand.
Back arching, I press it more firmly into his hold, whimpering with need as he massages the skin.
He hisses into my ear. “You have no idea how badly I want to strip you naked and feast on every inch of your skin. Make you beg. Plead. Scream. Have you thrashing beneath me, so wild with desire that my name is all you remember.”
“Royce,” I utter, incapable of anything more as my body burns. Aches maddeningly with pulsing desire.
“I love what a needy little slut you are for me, Babydoll.”
With a gush of wetness, I roll over and sit up on my knees before him. Chest heaving and eyes blazing, I know my cheeks are flushed with desire as I stare into his eyes that look as crazed and strung out as I feel.
“Logan?” I ask.
“Won’t be here for another half hour or so.”
I’m not sure I even care. After seeing Royce watch while Logan ate me out this morning, I would have absolutely no objection to Logan watching while Royce does the same.
Slowly peeling my top over my head, I drop it on the floor. Royce’s gaze remains on mine for a moment longer before they drop, his nostrils flaring. Hand outstretched, he flicks his thumb over my nipple, my breath catching before he cups my breast.
“I love your breasts,” he murmurs almost reverently. “It doesn’t matter if they’re on display in some slinky dress or hidden underneath a hoodie. They always look fucking perfect. I want to touch them. Lick them. Fuck them. Watch them bounce as I pound into you; see them glisten, covered in my cum.”
“Yes,” I pant, damn near coming as I squeeze my thighs together and picture him doing every one of those things.
As though pulled on an invisible string, his face lowers until his lips close around the pebbled bud, the scrape of his stubble along my skin eliciting a shiver. Releasing a moan, my hands slide into the thick, onyx strands of his hair as I hold him to me, soaking up every lick, every suck, every nibble until my nerves are flooded with want, basking in the glow of his attention and needing more.
His hand traverses the valley of my waist, fingers spreading over my lower spine as he pulls me to him, adorning every inch of skin with his touch, his lips, and his tongue until I’m a quivering mess before him.
Only when I’m panting and breathless and muttering incoherent pleas does his hand unlatch from my breast, fingers gliding over my smooth stomach until they reach the waistband of my shorts. He releases my nipple with a wet pop, lifting his gaze to mine, eyes portraying his silent question.
His fingers stall, waiting until I nod.
Eyes still latched onto mine, Royce devours my every reaction as his fingers slip beneath the fabric and slide throughmy folds, slicked with my wet heat. My hands go to his broad shoulders, steadying me as a finger circles my entrance.
Sensing that he is waiting for a final word of consent, I squeeze out a “please” between ragged breaths, and he spears me with a single digit. His movements are slow and deep, and I feel it fuckingeverywhere.
With one hand squeezing my hip, his gaze latches on to mine as he fucks me with unhurried, deliberate movements, building that ball of desire one stroke at a time until itconsumesme.
I’m on the brink of unraveling when he pulls out, and I cry at the loss. His smirk is pure, masculine satisfaction as he brings his fingers to his mouth, holding my gaze as he wraps his tongue around them and hums at the taste of me on his skin.
“Fuck, Ry.” His tone is guttural. Savage. Undoing. “I need to taste you.Now.” He’s pulling down my shorts before I can even comprehend what he’s saying. “Sit on my face,” he orders, sliding down the sofa so he’s lying on his back.
“W-what?” I ask, blinking in a stupefied daze.
“Sit. On. My. Face.Now.” His demand is a low bark. One that vibrates through me and has me moving on autopilot as I slide, naked as the day I was born, over his abdomen, leaving a wet trail in my wake that makes him growl like the savage animal he is until I hover over his face.
“Sit,” he snaps, pupils blown and fixed on my hovering pussy.
“But—”
Strong arms wrap around my upper thighs, forcing me downward until I’m sitting firmly on his face. “I’ll suffocate you!”
“And what a perfect fucking death it would be,” he half moans, half growls, burying his nose in the neatly trimmed hairs of my mound. “To die with your thighs wrapped around me and your cum all over my chin.”
Fuck. I might have died of mortification if it wasn’t for his tongue running along the length of my slit, eliciting a gasp, followed by a moan as he sucked on my clit.
“Shiiiit,” I groan, fisting his hair and riding his face as he fucks me thoroughly with his tongue. His arms are steel bands around my thighs, his hands grabbing a hold of my ass cheeks and squeezing as I rock against him. His tongue pistons in and out of my pussy as his nose rubs against my clit. It’s rough and dirty, and I’m free falling over the edge in no time, head thrown back and his name a breathless prayer on my lips.
As soon as my legs stop shaking, I climb down him, driven by the need to make him feel as fucking incredible as he just made me feel. However, his fingers snag my wrist as I go to undo the buttons of his jeans, halting me.
