Page 80 of Devil's Iris
Then his gaze snaps back to my belly button, and he licks his lips as his mouth hovers above the tiny pink stone glinting in my navel.
“Pink,” he breathes, glancing up at me with eyes that say he’s been dying to know the color since I told him about the piercing. Then he sucks it into his mouth.
A broken whimper tears from my throat, and my hips jerk involuntarily as heat sparks through me like a live wire. When his teeth graze the metal and tug, it’s like he yanked a string tied directly to my clit. My core clenches, seizing hard.
“Romero—God!” I gasp breathlessly, my back arching off the bed, vision flashing white.
He chuckles against my skin—a dark, wicked sound that vibrates against my fevered flesh as he releases the ring and continues his descent. He kisses my hip bones, the inside of my thighs, deliberately avoiding my core where I’m drenched and throbbing for him.
Please, please, please.My legs quake with tension as I wait.
Then finally, he looks up, holding my gaze as he uses his thumbs to part my slick folds, my wet lips slipping in his grip for one hot moment.
“Beautiful,” he rasps, voice hoarse, reverent. And then?—
Oh.Oh. My. God.
The first drag of his tongue is slow, almost teasing—a warm lick that makes my toes curl into the sheets. Precision and hunger guide each stroke, circling my clit but never staying long enough to push me over. Then his mouth seals on me in a kiss that mirrors the one on my lips, a groan rumbling out like I’m feeding some starving part of him.
I’m going to die. This is how I die.
But at last, his tongue rolls around my clit and sucks it into the warm heat of his mouth, holding it there while he gently sinks first one finger, then two, inside my tight walls, the pressure purebliss.
“Fuck—Romero!” I screech, bucking against him, my back arching clear off the bed as white-hot pleasure detonates through me.
His grip on my thighs tightens, spreading me wider, anchoring me to the bed while he devours me through my climax. Every swipe and swirl of his tongue is like gasoline on fire, pushing me faster over the edge.
He sucks and licks my clit as his fingers pump in and out of me, drawing out my orgasm for long, breathless heartbeats.
When I finally float back down from my high, I blink at himin disbelief, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest with how hard and fast it’s beating.
Romero meets my gaze, mouth glistening, eyes dark. “You’re mine now,” he rasps, pressing one last lingering kiss to my inner thigh before pulling back. I whimper at the loss, already missing his warmth, but then he’s kneeling at the edge of the bed…
My breath catches, my stomach quivering, when he reaches for the hem of his damp shirt.
He peels it off in one smooth motion, and—holy hell—the hard ridges of his torso come into view. His body screams raw power, every cut of muscle sharp under the moonlight, his skin slick and golden.
My mouth waters as I take in the tight crests of his abs, the tempting dark ink wrapping around his left arm. The lines curl around his bicep and spill down to his elbow, intricate patterns almost identical to the framed flower in his bedroom back home: black and white lilies of the valley, star-shaped petals of a flower I don’t recognize, tulips, and right in the middle, an iris so deep a blue it almost looks violet.Stunning artwork.
I didn’t know he had tattoos, but seeing it now… Damn,it fits him perfectly.
He shifts impatiently, and my gaze drops lower.Oh God. How is that going to…?
His cock juts past his abdomen, thick and heavy between his thighs. Veined, flushed, the wide tip an angry purple, leaking precum that slicks his stomach in slow, taunting beads. My core clenches so hard the room spins around me. A tremor of nerves flickers, but it’s swallowed almost instantly by something hotter—an almost reckless need to close the distance.
I reach out without thinking, my fingers aching to wrap around him, to stroke him, to feel his weight in my palm.To taste him.
But before I can touch, Romero leans over me again, thetension in his body coiled tight like a predator holding back. His jaw clenches, his breath coming in hard pants.
“Not yet,amore,” he murmurs, voice low and strained. “Let me take care of you first.”
He kisses me, slower this time,sweeter. Then his hand slips between my thighs. “Open for me,” he commands, and I obey instantly, heart pounding as I spread my legs as wide as they’ll go, all too aware of the sticky wetness still clinging from my orgasm.
He pats my inner thigh gently, almost affectionately, before using two fingers to toy with my clit. Soft, teasing circles at first. Light pressure building into a rhythm that makes my toes curl and my belly coil with heat all over again.
“You’re so wet, so ready. But still so tight.” His brows furrow as he watches himself work me open. I gasp, hips rising for more as he rubs his thumb over my clit at the same time he bends his fingers inside me.
Then, too soon, his hand is gone.
