Page 89 of Spark of Sorcery
Desire shivers over my skin. Something I don’t miss.
“Dray hasn’t stopped talking about how good you taste, little thrall,” he whispers. He licks my wrist, demonstratingjust how skilled and enthusiastic he’d be with his tongue, sending a pulse beating between my legs. “I need to taste you.”
“And what if I want to taste you?” I say, my voice trembling with desire.
He lifts his head, and his gaze, burning with fire, meets mine. “Fuck,” he mutters, then smirks. “I think there’s a way both of our wishes can come true.”
The next thing I know, I’m being yanked to my feet and led upstairs.
I could complain. We never made it past the first course and the food was delicious. But, damn it, I’m way more hungry for this, especially when I know it’s something I won’t be able to consume for the next twenty-eight days.
Twenty-eight. That hadn’t sounded so long when he said it earlier. Now it seems like an eternity.
Upstairs, he leads me inside his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind us, before stalking towards me like I am prey and he is the hunter. I pace backwards until the back of my legs hit the bed, and then, he’s pushing me down onto the mattress, his hungry mouth on mine.
I take a grip of his shirt and drag him down with me and then we’re pulling at each other’s clothes, only pausing in our kisses to lift my sweater over my head.
Then I’m in nothing but my bra and my panties. And for the first time ever, I peer down at them and cringe.
Linny, the bitch, even destroyed all my underwear in that rampage through my room. I’m stuck with a few pairs Clare gifted me as well as a bra that didn’t fit her very well. I may be small and lean but Clare is even smaller with cute boobs. Which means everything is a little tight, my breasts pretty much spilling out of the bra.
This doesn’t seem to be a problem for Beaufort though.The silver of his eyes morph into the dark gray of storm clouds. He takes ahold of my wrists, gripping right where fated mate markings would be if I had any, and pins my arms over my head.
Then he takes the cup of my bra in his teeth and yanks it away, releasing my tit right into his mouth.
With his wet tongue, he circles the sensitive skin of my nipple and they crinkle and harden between his lips. He groans and sucks on them and oh stars, it feels divine. So divine, I can’t help but lift my hips and grind against him.
“Needy little thing,” he murmurs, nibbling at my nipple next, before turning his attention to my other breast. I squirm underneath him, attempting to pull my arms free so that I can wrap them around him. But he holds them down.
“I want to come,” I moan.
“Well, you’re going to have to wait,” he says. He trails his kisses down from my breast, over my ribs and to my stomach. He halts here and peers up at me, smirk on his face.
I scowl right back at him.
“Fuck, you have no idea how hard those disapproving looks of yours make me, little one. You wanna come?”
I want to tell him to go fuck himself. But as I’d much rather he fucked me, I nod.
“Then be a good girl, for once.”
Shadow magic races from his hands and coils around my wrists, holding them in place as he releases the grip of his hands.
He kisses lower, and my pulse races even faster, my breath coming in expectant pants.
When he reaches the top of my panties, he grips them in his teeth and slides his fingers under the hem, then slides them down, his mouth follows with them, kissing over mymound and my curls, down my thighs, over my knees and my calves, and right the way to my toes.
I’m getting wetter with every moment, the pulse between my legs becoming more urgent.
“Beaufort!” I protest, as he takes his time kissing the tip of every toe.
“You kept me waiting for this, remember, sweetheart. It’s only fair I have my revenge.”
“Kept you waiting how?”
“Three fucking weeks!” he says, before parting my thighs and staring right down at my pussy.
I should be squirming with embarrassment. I’ve seen my pussy in a hand mirror. It is not exactly a work of art – although I have no idea if other girl’s look any better. Beaufort actually groans like someone’s plunged a knife straight into his gut, like he’s gazing down at something exquisite.
