Blood Ties (Dinero de Sangre #2) - Lana Sky Page 0,6
to resist the intention written in his gaze.
I don’t. He merely flexes his fingers, and my lips fly apart.
“These lips,” he murmurs, shocking me further by stroking the underside of my jaw with his thumb. “Some men would kill to have a mouth like this at their disposal.”
Still holding me, he returns his opposite hand to his cock. In this position, I’d only have to lean forward to have access to him—and the way he tilts his hips in a silent demand makes it clear that’s exactly what he wants. Me at his beck and call like a worthless whore. Like trash, as disposable as he claimed I am. My cheeks heat with shame.
Though why should I feel that way?
I’m not the man absently praising a woman he hates. He assumes there’s power in degrading me. But I am a Pavalos.
We were born into power and taught from day one how to claim it. The catch is that I never had to do so without my father’s commands, but there is no better time than now to start.
Meeting his gaze, I hold it, leaning forward of my own accord to graze the tip of him with my tongue. He lurches, and I savor the brief moment of triumph. He claims to own me, but he can’t own this.
If I ignore the man, his cock is a beautiful specimen. He’s circumcised, his arousal so thick already, he’s practically pulsating. Were I the whore he claimed I am, his beauty alone would make his personality easy to overlook.
Warily, I cup him in the palm of my hand, testing the formidable weight. Aided by the warmth of the water, he’s molten, and I feel a jolt shoot through my core.
“You look at my cock like it’s a lollipop.” His cool remark complicates my desire to ignore him. To thwart me further, he grips my chin, forcing me to meet his amused stare.
“Let’s see what that beautiful little mouth can do. Open it.”
I bristle at the command. No. This moment feels as fragile as he proved my body can be against his violence. If I let him dominate me in this arena, I might as well roll over and present my throat for the killing blow.
This brief power, and my sexuality…
They’re all I have, and I own both by delivering a slow, savoring lick to the underside of his shaft despite his warning.
His shock is a thing of twisted beauty. He groans, his head shooting back while the hand on my chin slides down to my throat, almost in a grateful caress. Then he squeezes so tightly my eyes bulge.
“I told you to open,” he grates.
Choking down any doubt, I lick him again, going slower, so slow the entire world seems to come to a screeching halt, hinging on the time it takes my tongue to clear the length of his shaft.
“Dios mío…” His voice is constricted with a grudging hint of something that could be pleasure, paired with his low grunt of annoyance. The hand around my throat sinks into my hair, cinching a fistful. “I told you to—”
I cup him again, curling my fingers around his impressive width. Then I stroke, up and down, each time with increasing amounts of pressure.
He breathes out roughly, his head still tilted back, eyes on the ceiling above. The shower spray continues to pelt us in that faint, fine mist, but the sensation acts like a cloud, obscuring us from the rest of the world.
In here, only the two of us exist, battling for control of this secluded realm. I aim to win. I have to—there isn’t any other choice.
“Damn you.” His anger is palpable in the vibrations running through me as he speaks. “Obey me. Open your fucking mouth—”
“I want you to make me come, instead,” I gasp out, the first request that pops into my head. My aim is merely to test how far I can push him—nothing else.
And his soft, startled grunt shouldn’t make my stomach flip. His brows shoot together, eyes like slits, and I nearly back down. Almost. But I’m genuinely curious of the answer to a question only he has ever made me bold enough to ask.
“Can you? Just with your cock, nothing else?” It’s a fantasy I used to mull over in agony while in my old bed, forced to make do with my own fingers, while the Domino I thought I knew ignored me.
Here and now, the real man doesn’t even try to disguise his interest. His expression