Page 86 of Reaper
The silk blindfold makes everything more intense. Without her sight, she's completely at my mercy, responding to every kiss, every touch with an openness that makes my heart race. Her skin is so soft under my lips, warm and alive, and I want to memorize the taste of her, the way she feels against my tongue.
I settle between her thighs, my hands sliding up to grip her hips. She's beautiful like this, spread out before me, completely vulnerable and trusting. The lantern light flickers across her skin, casting shadows that dance with each breath she takes.
"Reaper," she whispers, my name a plea on her lips.
I kiss the inside of her thigh first, gentle and teasing, feeling her muscles tense under my mouth. She smells of arousal and something uniquely her, and it makes my head spin with want. I trail my lips higher, closer to where she needs me most, but I take my time, savoring every inch of skin.
When I finally taste her, she cries out, her back arching off the bed. She's sweet and salty and everything I've ever craved, and I moan against her, the vibration making her gasp. My tongue explores her slowly, learning what makes her breath hitch, what makes her hands fist in the sheets.
I lose myself in the rhythm of it, in the taste of her on my tongue, in the way she responds to every movement I make. Her thighs tremble around my head, and I can feel her getting closer with each stroke of my tongue. The sounds she makes are driving me wild, but I force myself to stay focused on her pleasure, on making this last.
But even as I worship her with my mouth, even as I feel her falling apart under my tongue, the darkness creeps in at the edges of my mind. This could be the last time I ever touch her like this. Tomorrow, Eng might send us on a suicide mission. Or worse, she might discover the truth about Vanessa, and then she'll look at me with hatred instead of love.
The thought makes me desperate, makes me want to consume her completely, to brand this moment into my memory so deeply that nothing can take it away. I increase the pressure of my tongue, focusing on the spot that makes her cry out my name, and feel her body tensing as she climbs higher.
But just as she reaches that precipice, just as her body tightens with release, I pull back. She gasps, her hips lifting off the bed, chasing the contact I've just denied her.
"Reaper," she breathes, frustration and need lacing her voice. "Please."
"Not yet," I whisper against her inner thigh, pressing soft kisses to her heated skin. "I want to make this last."
I can't let go. Not yet. This moment, her trust, the way she responds to my touch—I need to hold on to it as long as possible. Because tomorrow might strip it all away.
I start again, slower this time, my tongue working in languid strokes that build her back up gradually. Her breathing deepens, becomes more ragged, and I feel her thighs tremble again. The silk blindfold is damp with perspiration at her temples, and she's so beautiful like this, completely at my mercy.
When she climbs toward that edge again, her back arching, my name falling from her lips like a prayer, I pull away once more. This time she makes a sound of pure frustration, her hands reaching blindly for me.
"You're torturing me," she gasps.
"I know," I murmur, kissing my way back up her body until I can capture her mouth with mine. She can taste herself on my lips, and it makes her moan into the kiss. "But you're so perfect like this. I don't want it to end."
Her hands find my face, fingers tracing my jaw with desperate tenderness. "It doesn't have to end," she whispers against my mouth. "We have all night."
But we don't. We have this moment, and then we have whatever hell Eng has planned for us. And if she ever learns the truth about Vanessa...
I push the thought away and return my attention to her body, to the way she responds when I drag my tongue down the column of her throat. I worship her breasts again, taking my time with each one until she's writhing beneath me. Then I work my way lower, settling between her thighs once more.
This time I build her up even slower, drawing out every sensation until she's practically sobbing with need. Her hands fist in the silk sheets, and I can see the tension in every line of her body as she fights for control.
"Please," she whispers, the word broken. "Reaper, I need — "
"I know what you need," I tell her, my breath hot against her skin. "And I'm going to give it to you."
I bring her to the edge again, and again I pull back, until she's trembling all over, her skin flushed and damp with sweat. The fourth time, when she's so wound up she can barely form words, I finally let her have what she's been begging for.
I focus my tongue on that perfect spot, maintaining steady pressure and rhythm until she finally breaks apart beneath me. Her body goes rigid, then convulses as the orgasm tears through her. She cries out my name, her voice raw and desperate, her thighs clamping around my head as wave after wave crashes over her. I don't let up, drawing out every tremor until she's gasping and pushing at my shoulders, too sensitive to take any more.
I press one last kiss to her inner thigh before crawling up her body, watching as she struggles to catch her breath. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, skin flushed and glowing in the lantern light. She's never been more beautiful than she is right now, completely undone by my touch.
Before I can say anything, her hands reach up and pull the silk blindfold away from her eyes. She blinks in the dim light, pupils still dilated, and when her gaze finds mine, there's something fierce and determined burning there.
"Your turn," she says, her voice still breathless but commanding. Her hands press against my chest, pushing me back. "Lie down. Submit to me."
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Adriana
It’s my turn.
