RIOT HOUSE (Crooked Sinners #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,122

something that I’ve never done. Still, I’m not one to shy away from new challenges. Especially ones I want to participate in. I drop down, kneeling for him, knowing I’m relinquishing control to him, but strangely unafraid. His hands wind into my hair as he gently cradles my head. Then the tip of his cock is pressing against my lips, parting them and pushing inside.

“Holy...shit!” Wren hisses. “Fuck, Elodie, that feels...” Whether he trails off because it feels too good or because I’m doing a terrible job, I have no fucking clue. I lave at the hardness he slides into my mouth, enjoying the silken, rigid texture of his erection, and Wren begins to shake. The videos I watched on Youtube last year— ‘How to give your man good head,’ and ‘Best blowjob tips,’ and ‘How to make him come in thirty seconds flat,’ —seem to be paying off, though. He shudders as I apply a little more pressure with my mouth, tentatively sucking, and a slew of curse words spill out of him.

“Jesus. God...damn, Little E. That....that feels fucking incredible.”

Pleased doesn’t even cover it. Wren Jacobi, the scourge of Wolf Hall Academy, the bane of countless women’s existences, harbinger of misery and suffering, is at my mercy now. I have him. I thought I was signing over my control when I obeyed his breathless command, but that isn’t even remotely true. I’m at the wheel right now. I’m steering this thing, and with a simple flick of my tongue I know I can bring him to his knees.

He’s so fucking hard. Harder with every passing second. His hands tighten in my hair, holding onto me with a steel-like grip, but somehow I know that, if I want to pull the plug on this at any point, I still have the power to do that.

“Elodie. God, Elodie...” he pants. Not Little E this time. I haven’t given his little nickname for me much thought, but I like the sound of my full name on his lips. He utters it like a sacred prayer, as if he’s worshipping me as I worship him, and my head swims with the sound of it. I’m just finding my rhythm, figuring out how badly I can make him shake by utilizing my tongue in different ways, when he jerks back, pulling himself out of my mouth with a wet pop.

“Black hell, E. It’s too much. Too good,” he gasps. “Get on your back. I wanna fucking taste you again. That pretty little cunt of yours is all I’ve been able to think about.”

I thank the universe, God, and everything holy that it’s dark now. My heart surges like a piston as I lay back onto the cold, hard floor. Wren’s fingers dig into my thighs, pushing them apart, and then he falls on me like a demon. He’s had way more practice than me; he proved that quite eloquently the other night when he made me come with his mouth. I’m still unprepared for how good it feels when he sweeps over me with the flat of his tongue, though. I tense, my breath hissing out between my teeth as I attempt to relax into the intense sensation building up inside of me.

“Goddddddd,” he groans. “You’re so fucking sweet. I can’t get enough.” He buries his tongue into my pussy again, and he doesn’t just use his tongue this time. He uses his entire face, the bridge of his nose, everything, rubbing himself into my slick flesh so hungrily that heat explodes across my face. I’m ashamed, wet, mortified, and so turned on that I can’t wrap my head around what’s happening. He moans, feasting on me like an animal, and I lock my legs around his head, pulling him down on me even harder.

A staggering, overwhelming need blossoms in the pit of my stomach when he slides his fingers inside me, slowly pumping them as he licks. It’s so much at once, too much emotion and desire and feeling, that I realize tears are sliding from my eyes and over my temples. I’m gasping for air in wet, desperate gasps that only seem to urge him on; he fucks me with two fingers, stretching me, exploring, stroking a point deep inside me that I didn’t even know existed, until I’m vibrating, shaking against the floor, my arms and legs tingling to the point of pain, and I feel like I’m gonna...

“Fuck. Hold on, Little E. I wanna feel you come all over my