Unshackle (Deliver #7) - Pam Godwin Page 0,28
hell before I thank you for anything!”
“I am the devil, and while your offer is tempting, I don’t want your mouth.” He released her throat. “Unless, of course, you use it to scream.”
“I hate you.”
The look he gave her was arched and dismissing. His attention lowered to his shirt, his fingers opening the buttons. Then it was off, and her heart stuck somewhere between one breath and the next.
He bent over her, his torso as arresting as his face, strong and powerful, enough to cause serious ruination to her mental health.
Every nerve in her body thrummed as he lowered his mouth to her breast, the harsh lines of his face unsoftened by the tenderness in his kiss.
She tried to push herself upright only to be shoved down by his forearm, the flex of muscle bulging against her throat. He radiated such an intense fusion of beauty and menace it sucked her breath. But that didn’t stop her from sinking beneath the tangled warmth that spiraled from the tongue against her nipple.
His lips moved from one breast to the other, kissing and suckling until she burned beneath the quickening rush of his exhales. Hot mouth. Expert tongue. He licked her in a way she’d never dreamed.
From neck to hips, he dealt relentless strokes, slowly, steadily, inch after inch down her body. Her fingers caught his hair, pushing, pulling, knuckled against his scalp.
When had she started trembling? Jesus, she’d lost count of how many times she’d gulped down a moan.
“It’s too much.” Another gulp lodged in the back of her throat. “Stop!”
Kneeling between her legs, he straightened and stared down at her, eyes glinting with cold sparks of lightning. Then he lifted her knees and forced them to her shoulders, spreading her wide for his gaze.
And his mouth.
“No.” She shook her head frantically, fighting the steely grip of his hands on her thighs.
“Tell me. Are you not the least bit passive in bed?” he asked. “Truthfully.”
“When it’s consensual, you mean? Like with a man I want to be with?”
“Yes.”
She contemplated her answer as his mouth took a meandering stroll along her ankle.
“I don’t remember.” She tried to kick his face and hit air. “Are you?”
“No.” He moved on to her foot, warming the arch with an open-mouthed kiss. “You don’t want a passive man.”
“I don’t want a man. Period.” She thrashed and swung her arms, going nowhere. “Let me go!”
“Your body betrays you.” His gaze dipped, bringing attention to the moisture chilling in the air against her folds.
No. How could that be? She didn’t want this. “Don’t—”
He buried his mouth between her thighs.
She bowed off the cushion and tried to roll away, but he stopped her. With his hands on her thighs, he ravished her pussy, plundering, conquering, until she was hoarse from screaming and dizzy with fatigue.
They’d been dueling in this position long enough for both of them to be covered in a sheen of sweat. She didn’t want to straddle his shoulders anymore. Didn’t want his tongue buried inside her. But there was no evading him. No interrupting that merciless mouth. No part of her left unexplored, unlicked.
Faster and hungrier, he ate, groaning against her, building the rhythm, and dragging her with him on a spiraling, breathless descent south of heaven.
Death would be waiting. At the bottom of the fall. At the end of his tongue. If she orgasmed, it would break her.
Every skilled touch felt like a sledgehammer crashing into her carefully erected shields. She wouldn’t be able to stop the flood of pleasure much longer.
If she harmed him, he’d said he would hurt another girl. But would he, really? After the mercy he’d shown the blonde in the basement and the peculiar adoration he was giving her body now, his threat didn’t hold true.
She decided to take a chance. A last-ditch effort of strength.
Balling a fist at her side, she swung and connected with the side of his head. Yes!
He grunted, reared back, and swiped at the moisture on his lips.
Oh, God. If looks could kill… There was no mistaking the haughty brows, tense mouth, and hawkish glare. He struck an impressive figure when he was calm. But when he was pissed, he was terrifying.
She couldn’t pull air into her lungs.
“Tomas.” He inclined his head, motioning his bodyguard forward. When his order was obeyed, he said in a wintry tone, “Pull out your cock.”
“What?” Her breath released in short, hard pants. “No!”
John clapped a hand over her mouth as Tomas unzipped. It took a moment for the man’s