Page 48 of Reaper
"I said patience," he growls against my skin, and the vibration of his voice sends shockwaves straight to my core.
He continues his torturous journey, kissing across my lower belly with maddening care. Every touch is calculated to drive me higher, to make me desperate for more. When he finally settles between my thighs, spreading them wider with his broad shoulders, I'm already trembling with need.
But instead of giving me what I'm craving, he starts with the softest exhale of warm breath against my most sensitive flesh. The sensation is so light, so teasing, that I buck my hips involuntarily.
"Reaper, please," I gasp, but he just chuckles darkly.
His breath comes again, warmer this time, followed by the barest whisper of a kiss against my inner thigh. Not where I need him most, but close enough to make me shake. He alternates between those phantom touches of breath and the lightest possible kisses, never quite giving me the pressure I'm desperately craving.
My hands fist the sheets as he continues this exquisite torture. Every nerve ending is on fire, my body coiled so tight I feel like I might shatter. When he finally, finally lets his lips brush against my center, it's so gentle I can barely feel it.
"More," I plead, my voice breaking.
But he just continues those feather-light touches, his breath hot against my wetness, building the pressure inside me to an unbearable peak. I'm shaking now, my entire body trembling with the force of my need.
"I can't fucking wait anymore," I growl, my control finally snapping. My hands shoot down to grab the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair as I pull his face against me. "Eat it."
The command comes out rough and demanding, and I feel him smile against my flesh before his tongue finally, blessedly, gives me what I've been begging for.
His tongue moves against me with a skill that makes my back arch off the bed. The first actual contact sends lightning through my entire nervous system, and I can't suppress the moan that tears from my throat. He's relentless now, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention that has me gasping his name.
"Fuck yes," I breathe, my grip tightening in his hair.
He responds by increasing the pressure, his tongue working me with an intensity that borders on overwhelming. Every nerve ending is screaming, my body coiling tighter and tighter as he drives me toward the edge. The sounds I'm making are desperate, needy, but I'm beyond caring about control or composure.
His hands grip my thighs, holding me steady as I writhe beneath him. When he focuses on that perfect spot, I see stars behind my closed eyelids. The pressure builds and builds until I'm trembling violently, right on the precipice.
"Don't stop," I gasp, my voice barely recognizable. "Don't you dare fucking stop."
He doesn't. His tongue works me with devastating precision, pushing me higher and higher until I shatter completely. The orgasm rips through me like wildfire, every muscle in my body contracting as pleasure crashes over me in waves.
"Reaper!" His name tears from my throat in a scream that echoes off the walls.
My vision goes white, then swirls with colors that don't exist. My body pulses with aftershocks, each one sending fresh wavesof sensation through me. I collapse back against the mattress, completely spent, my chest heaving as I try to remember how to breathe.
A smile spreads across my face without my permission — the first genuine smile I've felt in months. My body still thrums with residual pleasure, skin hypersensitive and flushed. When I finally open my eyes, I find him watching me with those magnetic eyes, his lips glistening with evidence of what he's just done to me.
"You remember that time when you stuck your cock in my face?" I say, my voice still rough from screaming. "Do it again."
His pupils dilate at my words, and I watch his throat work as he swallows hard. Without hesitation, he moves up my body with predatory grace, positioning himself exactly where I want him.
"You sure?" he asks, but I can see the hunger burning in his eyes. He wants it, even if he can hardly believe this is happening.
I smile again. I want his cock, and I want to see the look on his face when I get my mouth around it. He doesn’t know what he’s in for.
Instead of answering, I reach for him, my fingers wrapping around his length. He's already hard, and the feel of him in my hands sends another pulse of heat through my still-sensitive body. I guide him closer, my lips parting in anticipation.
The taste of him on my tongue is intoxicating, and I lose myself worshipping him the way he just worshipped me.
I take my time with him, just like he did with me. My tongue traces patterns along his length while my lips provide gentle suction, building the tension slowly. I can feel him trembling beneath my touch, his breathing becoming more ragged with each deliberate movement of my mouth.
"Adriana," he groans, his hands fisting in the sheets.
I pull back slightly, letting my breath ghost over his heated skin before taking him deeper. The control I have over him right now is intoxicating — watching him fight to maintain composure while I systematically destroy it with my mouth. His hips move involuntarily, seeking more contact, but I keep the pace torturously slow.
When I glance up at him through my lashes, his head is thrown back, jaw clenched tight. The sight of him losing himself in what I'm doing sends another surge of heat through me. I increase the pressure slightly, swirling my tongue in ways that make him curse under his breath.
But halfway through my careful teasing, my need becomes too much to ignore. The ache between my thighs is demanding attention, and I can't wait any longer to feel him inside me.
