Page 202 of The Wicked
“I am hungry,”I whispered in the language. My tongue and teeth dragged up her collarbone to the top of her neck, below her ear, the warmth from her skin feeding me in more ways than one.“But not for food.”
In a swift movement, I flipped us over until she was beneath me, her lust-filled eyes peering up at me.
“It’s all your fault,” I said, tightening my grip on her hair.
“What is?” she asked when I released my hold, watching me take one of her hands from underneath my shirt.
“Putting the idea of eating you out in my head,” I answered, gesturing for her to keep her fingers up as I removed my rings one by one, slipping them down her fingers for safekeeping. “Now you’ll have to hold these for me.”
Her chest heaved in anticipation. “Thought you didn’t like the mess?”
“Apparently, Sport, you have not been paying attention to the things I say to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do I need to fuck you to bring back your memories?”
Her pupils dilated.
My hand, free of the rings, was ready to inflict torture.
“I’m sorry, but the last thing I want to do right now is think,” she said, frustration leeching into every rise and fall of her voice.
The smile I allowed to curl at the sides of my lips did not promise safety; it was created from the intentions buried deep inside my head, intentions that I finally felt comfortable putting into play.
My eyes searched hers as I repeated my words from a few days ago. “I don’t like a mess, Zahra, but I’ll take yours any day.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes…” I trailed off, gaze dropping to her lips, my heart thumping harshly. “Allow me to give you a chance to tap out now before it’s too late,” I said.
The smile that touched her lips mirrored mine.
“I never tap out, especially not from your challenges.”
I was amused yet again. Immensely impressed by her confidence. I tilted my head, watching my living, breathing addiction as I responded, “That, Querida, is one of the many reasons I like you.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Elio
Zahra Faizan’s body was equivalent to a serum created to ignite a strong dose of fever into a healthy body.
Warm, soft, and ready, this woman was mine for the taking. She was mine to own and claim tonight and as many nights as I saw fit. She didn’t know it yet, but she’d signed away a lot the moment she agreed to my rule break.
My addictions had always been centered on want, and at first, I wanted Zahra—to be close to her, to hear her speak to me—but now, the need to touch her played with my reasoning. She had me daring myself to act without thinking. To be careless. I had never been careless, but she made carelessness seem like the new carefulness. I was blinded, and I was aware that my indifference towards this was reckless; but this,thismoment, here and now, was worth every risk of recklessness.
Her eyes were as bright as my desperation. Her brows, shaped to perfection, had me admiring the smooth sweep of the hair lining them. An uncertain smile tugged at her lips. “You… like me,” she stated.
“Have my actions or my words shown anything otherwise?”
She chortled. “You having a fantasy of slitting my throat doesn’t exactly spell out how much you like me, sir.”
Sir.
I had been addressed that way often, but it had never made me feel so… desperate.
“I like it,” I stated, watching her face go from smug to interested.
