Page 693 of One More Kiss

“Like you said, there’s nothing special about me or my vagina. Let’s save us both the embarrassment and call it quits.” My voice sounds alien to me, the breathless tone betraying me. “Send me home.”

The thrilling sensation of pressure circling my super sensitive nub is pure corruption. I gasp, the back of my head butting the tiles. Urges I never knew existed sprout horns and grow gnashing teeth. Depraved stimulation hurtles my soul towards flames of perpetual insanity. It’s exhilarating, unlike anything I’ve experienced.

“I’ll decide if it’s good enough for me.” He grins, the negligible wink a cruel weapon to slay me with.

“It won’t be.” I dig my fingernails into my palms to stop a moan from escaping.

“You’re not putting up much of a fight, Carina.” As he continues to explore, I shudder, strengthening his valid point. “There’s nothing about this you don’t like.”

“I hate you,” I spit, instantly sucking in a ragged breath the second he inserts a finger deep inside of me. “Oh my God.” My involuntary groan is met with a quiet hiss of his own.

I’ve never felt anything quite like this before. A girly noise breaks free from my throat, simultaneously matching the thick grunt he offers. I’m moving with the slow rhythm, riding his hand as he closely observes my reaction.

Tomás looms over me, his forehead close to mine. The tips of our noses brush, but our lips stay apart. Alcohol still laces his breath. His eyes, those flinty eyes of his, turn to liquid pools of deadly desire, as if he’s loving the dirty interaction as much as me.

He angles his wrist and adds a second finger, immediately turning me into a mass of mushy flesh with no way of ever escaping this divine torture. My hips buck, begging for more, urging him to take me to the next level so I can experience it all.

I swat away the nagging voice whispering through my brain, the subconscious thought that reminds me of this man’s savage capabilities and his father’s homicidal impulses. But I’m too far gone. Drowning in the building frenzy, so much hungrier than a simple need, it’s an overpowering compulsion for Tomás Souza.

These are the addictive sensations people lie for—and lie to themselves about. How they crave a stranger's touch and seek the all-consuming kick of adrenaline. Need crackles and spits under my naked flesh. The impatience for release coming at me from within.

His eyes glow with bane while something carnal simmers beneath the surface. “I could keep going until I hit the right spot. But the question is, do you deserve pleasure or was it your flimsy plan to seduce me all along?” His voice is hoarse, like a tornado of sand sucking me in just to spit me out. “Are you working for Carlos Blanco?”

My swollen insides demand his fingers to move inside me, sucking around them tightly in the hope he’ll continue. “I’ve never heard that name before. I don’t work for anyone,” I pant, my vision blurring.

He grits his teeth, gradually removing his fingers like the very act pains him. For a moment, I think I’ll combust from the unsatisfied emptiness until he makes an odd noise. From my vulnerable position, I witness his entire persona shadow in an aura of smoky black horror. He stills before me, muscles absolutely rigid and fingers splayed.

My brows snap together when he staggers backward, staring at feminine essence marbled with blood.

He hesitates as if his lungs have decompressed. His avid scrutiny is so focused on the slight red staining that I’m unsure how to react.

I had warned him of my sexual innocence. It’s not a crime for the first encounter to be messy. But his eyes, his posture, his silence—it has my nerves on edge and my heart in my mouth.

There’s a palpable hush in which Tomás glares at his middle finger as if he’s slipping into a disturbed version of himself. A version unlike the suave god I’m used to. In a millisecond, lust is wiped from his eyes and he transforms into a glowering beast, any shred of decorum gone.

“Fuck!” His nostrils flare, and the main vein in his corded throat pulsates like a leash tugging at his fraying humanity.

His hands shake and clench into fists, the muscles in his arms working hard to stay tight. Veins pump under his golden skin and his chest lifts as he sucks in through his teeth.

I remember Shane’s comment, how the man before me loses his shit if he gets covered in blood.

He’s dangerous.

Rather than feed the flames of desire, he’s preparing to detonate contempt from within. He’s going to blow us both to smithereens with a grenade of rage.

I sway, ready to flee, yet unsure of where to go. A flicker of a thought dances into my frozen mind. Distract him from the blood.

So I do the only thing I can think of. I sink to my knees, loosen the towel from his angular hips, and face his imperial cock. The instant my fingers skim the satiny skin, it hardens to stone. Angry crimson flesh oozes pre-cum, the liquid glistening under twinkly recessed downlights. The shiny crown looks inviting, the girth intimidating. Flutters in my chest fight for a way out, just as enamored by it as I am.

Kneeling before him, I lift my gaze to search his, to anchor him in place before me. He senses the hunt. His narrowed eyes, vicious and tyrannical, immediately cut to mine, leading him from the void he’s lost in.

Something familiar feathers around the awareness of us. An inexplicable feeling that winds around one girl's affliction and this man’s unspoken tribulation. I get the impression we’re both damaged and astray in darkness. Perhaps that’s why I’m so drawn to him. Our connection transcends the normal, with both of us wholly unbalanced.

My hands tremble at the recklessness of my snap decision. I’m somehow demented with lust, my pulse hammering fast.

Without direction, I do what comes naturally, flicking my tongue over the bulging tip. The second my salvia connects, his sturdy legs brace. A monster in the hands of an untainted woman. A woman who’s feeding off her desires.

I savor the salty fluid, hearing his sharp intake of air. That secret gasp alone ignites a greedier arousal within me and gives me the incentive to continue. He growls low and foreboding, entranced by my experiment.

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