Page 70 of Crossed Fates
The cool metal met my opposite hip as he severed the thin strap of my underwear. My legs trembled as he caught the lace with his blade and drew it out from between my thighs.
Goddamn.
I’d never let someone play with a weapon in bed before. Maybe a little clawing, but nothing like this.
He removed the knife from my skirts and lifted it upward between us, drawing my focus to the black lace twisted around the blade. Then my lips parted as he licked the damp part of the fabric.
A rumble sounded in his chest, and dear God, I almost combusted at the sight of his wolf overtaking his irises. Approval emanated from him in palpable waves, his hunger striking me in the gut.
“Fucking delicious, Makayla.” His tone was the kind that usually accompanied a demand to strip or to kneel. But he said neither of those things. Instead, he set his knife on the nightstand and grabbed my hips.
My dress disappeared in the next second, his hands having reached up to grab the straps and rip it down the middle.
“Now,” he said softly, his gaze falling to my bra, “we’re almost even.” He bent to nibble my neck, his teeth skimming my pulse as he pushed me back onto the bed.
“Almost even?” I breathed, my chest heaving as he shifted me upward to the pillows.
“Mmm,” he hummed, settling over me and licking a path downward to my breasts. “Knife play.” He latched onto my nipple through the fabric, biting down and sucking at the same time.
I bowed off the mattress, my heart a rapid thundering sound in my ears.
“I prefer my method,” he said against my lacy bra. “So much more sensual than stabbing.” He bit down on the fleshy part of my breast, his teeth breaking the skin as he marked me with his teeth.
“Alaric,” I hissed.
He laved the wound with his tongue, his chuckle all masculine arrogance. “Biting is also more sensual.” He licked me again. “But now I made you really bleed.”
I growled.
He chuckled again.
Then my bra disappeared, and he made it up to me by worshipping me with his mouth.Christ, his tongue,I thought, delirious as he traced my taut peaks and destroyed me again with his teeth. No more blood, just harsh tugs accompanied by soothing licks, to the point where I was ready to just float on up to heaven without the orgasm attached because he was justthat goodwith his mouth.
Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he made me come like this.
Because every single euphoric button I possessed was pressed in the span of minutes with his skilled mouth.
Only, he was nowhere near done.
Electricity shot up my spine as he began to descend, his blue eyes capturing mine as he kissed a path all the way down the center of my body.
He settled between my sprawled thighs, my center weeping in warm welcome, only to pause as he caught sight of my hip. The wolf marking practically gleamed in the moonlight, a beacon that somehow made me feel more exposed. And yet, it’d always been there. A literal birthmark that I’d carried all my life.
“All wolves of my kind have one,” I told him, reading the question in his gaze.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, bending to trace the reddish-brown brand with his tongue. Heat curled in my lower abdomen in response, his intimate touch setting my blood on fire. “You’re beautiful,” he added, his voice low and darkly erotic against my inherited tattoo. “And you taste very fucking sweet.” He nipped my hip bone before drawing his mouth to the heart of me, his lips wasting no time in sealing around my clit and sending me into a wave of euphoric convulsions.
Not an orgasm.
Not yet.
But damn close.
And unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
His name left my mouth on a prayer I couldn’t hold back, his skill one that deserved my praise and so much more. He’d promised to deliver, and damn, did he deliver.
I felt devoured, revered, and utterly annihilated by his tongue, his teeth, his lips, his mouth. Stroking. Sucking. Licking. Nibbling. All in a sequence that defied meaning. He added his fingers, too, his touch a searing brand inside me that sent me tumbling closer to the edge. Ready to fall. Ready to explode.
