Burn Down the Night (Everything I Left Unsaid #3)- Molly O'Keefe Page 0,95

the blood, the pain a bright light in all the dark pleasure.

I shook my shoes off and put my toes on his boots, bracing myself so I could grind against him.

He pulled back, his mouth wet, his lips shiny. His eyes all dilated and mean. He put his hands back in my hair, resting his elbows against the wall.

“Fuck yourself against me,” he said and I arched again, sliding on the wet silk against his jeans. I shifted on his boots when he hit my clit so I could stay right there, throbbing against him.

“Take off your shirt,” he said.

I was sidetracked by the hard pressure on my clit. The pleasure/pain radiating out in my body.

Max leaned back, taking that hard pressure away, and then he leaned forward and through the thin silk of my shirt, he sucked the whole of my nipple into his mouth.

“Oh my God!” I cried out, my feet scrambling against his boots. Trying to find some way to support myself or he was going to hold me up by my hair and his mouth on my breast. He closed his mouth, raking his teeth across me through the fabric until he had the point of my nipple in his mouth. I held my breath waiting for him to let me go.

But he bit harder and I jerked between him and the wall.

“Take,” he said into my ear, “your shirt off.”

“I can’t…” I gasped, swallowing air. “Your hands…they’re in the way.”

“Lift it.” His tongue traced the curve of my ear, a light, ticklish touch that after the pain of my nipple in his teeth felt like too much, and at the same time not at all enough. “Show me, baby. Show me your tits.”

I lifted the shirt and my black bra up over my breasts until they were all bunched up in my armpits. My breast, the one he bit, was red. And wet.

I groaned, arching forward with my hips, trying to find that hard pressure of his cock, but he stepped back. Out of reach.

Clit tease.

“I hurt you,” he murmured, a sort of assessing kind of whisper. He was looking at my breast, that red mark. The indention of his teeth, that as we both watched, were fading.

“I like it,” I told him. “I want more.”

“More,” he said like he was considering it. Like it was an avenue he might take, but he just needed persuading.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked. His eyes flared and he looked right at me. Right into me. Held up by my toes and his hands in my hair, I lifted my shirt to show him my tits. My skirt was lifted, so he could see how wet I was—there was no way for me to hide. Nowhere to run.

I had to simply stand there, spread out for him, and let him see me.

Let him see every filthy and wrong thing I wanted.

Every dark and dangerous thing I needed.

His hands untangled themselves from my hair and he carefully let me go. My feet fell securely on his boots. He put a hand at my hip and stepped back, pushing me off him as he went. Holding me against the wall. His eyes raked my body, stopping at the hot-pink silk between my legs that was wet and skewed from the way I’d been rubbing myself against him. He put his hand over the silk, covering it completely with his palm and I gasped, arching into his rough, warm touch.

Slowly he closed his hand, his fingers slipping into my wet slit, the heel of his hand pushing down on my clit. It was like he was making a fist around my pussy.

I opened my mouth to say something; what I had no idea. But only a long, slow breath came out. I was pinned to the wall by his eyes, and held there by his hand. He squeezed and I nearly screamed.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he said, his voice a hot, burnt whisper.

“Yes.”

“But first I want you to suck my dick.”

“Yes.”

“On your knees.”

He let go of me and I fell to the floor at his feet, my hands braced on his denim-covered thighs. His hand, wet from touching me, lifted my chin so I was looking up at him. Then he slipped his fingers into my mouth and I licked and sucked the musty taste of my pussy from his skin.

He undid his pants and pushed down his underwear with one hand until the long hard length of