Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men #6) - Giana Darling Page 0,122
to her groin. “Why is this so hot?”
I grinned wickedly but didn’t answer, focusing inside on holding her flesh taut with one thumb while I carefully dragged the blade over her lightly furred cunt. The sight of the silver blade against her golden curls, the smooth cream of the skin beneath as I cut away the hair was fucking gorgeous. Having her trust to wield a blade so close to her fragile center sent power and lust reeling through me, my dick weeping in my jeans.
“You’ll be so sensitive,” I murmured darkly as I bent her leg back, waiting until she hesitantly held it wide herself. “Just the scrape of my teeth along the tender skin here…” I ran the edge of the blade lightly over her mound just north of her clit. “Will make you shudder.”
She shuddered then, a light trill of movement I quelled with my forearm banded over her hips. It was a delicate process, shaving her bare without cutting her with the sharp blade. I cleaned it every stroke or two in the bowl of hot water, smoothed the residue away with the cloth, then returned to my task, tongue sandwiched hard beneath my teeth as I study every inch of her pussy.
“You’re makin’ a mess, Bea,” I noted, dipping one finger into her overflowing slit, following the slick from her clit down to her asshole where it pooled beneath her bum. A full-body blush sluiced down her skin, but I hushed her. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean you up with my tongue.”
When I was finished, I cleaned her gently with a clean, damp cloth and put my detritus in the bathroom before returning to stand at the foot of the bed. I loomed over her, the only light in the room tinged red and cast from those coloured lights securing her hands to the railing. She was breathing fast, so aroused by the intimacy we’d shared that her eyes were blown to black with greedy lust.
“I want…” She trailed off, tongue-tied with desires she didn’t know yet how to voice.
I’d teach her.
All those dark things she desired had names, and I intended to teach her the entire fucking alphabet of fuckery.
“I know,” I soothed, only my voice was cold and hard as I undid my belt, button, and fly so I could pull my aching cock into the light. It was throbbing angrily, precum pooling in the head. I swiped the tip with my rough thumb, felt the keen bite of pleasure that brought, then held it up between us.
“You wanna taste me?” I asked her.
I would not go gentle that night. I was a warrior set out to conquer. Every man’s Madonna fantasy was lying spread out and secured to this bed, the angel I planned to turn into my sweet little whore.
Bea swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, please.”
“So polite,” I noted, but instead of feeding her my thumb, I dipped to scrape my tongue roughly through her folds, bottom to top, her sweet juice collected in my mouth.
I fisted a hand in the bed and leaned over her, my mouth hovering at hers. She watched with wide eyes as I popped my thumb into my mouth, combined our flavors, and fucking hummed because the salty sweetness of us was too damn delicious.
“You wanna taste how good we are?” My voice was a rasp and a whisper, but she heard me.
She was already opening her mouth to accept my communion.
I bowed down to take what she offered, sliding my tongue over hers, painting her teeth and every inch of the inside of her mouth with the taste of us. When I broke away, her chest was heaving, her arms straining at their bonds.
“You like that?” I demanded, collaring her flushed throat in my hand as I straddled her hips again.
She was serene and beautiful, moonlight in my hands. The silver silk of her hair spooling in my cruel fists, so delicate I was sure I’d tear it with my big hands. The light spilling through the windows gilded her flesh, turned the pink of her aroused flush to glittering red, the small, pursed fullness of her mouth a rose limned in morning dew. She was so fragile, so pretty in all the ways a thing can be so that I ached just looking at her. The very sight of Bea made emotions burst in the fallow soil of my soul, giving beauty and fragrance to parts of me I’d long thought dead and gone.