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I gasp, back arching in pleasure this time. His head moves back and forth as he sucks on both my thighs, bruises surely blooming in his wake.
My arousal pools down to the sheets beneath my ass.
He hasn’t even gotten his tongue inside me and I already want to throw in the towel. Give in and be the woman who falls for her stalker. Who allows her body to be worshipped by the man obsessed with her.
But the single thread of sanity still left in my brain fights against the desire pumping in every drop of blood in my veins.
“Briar.” His voice is softer now, a groan escaping his parted lips when he spots my arousal glistening for him, darkening the sheet beneath me. “I haven’t even tasted your sweet pussy and it already weeps in reverence of my tongue.”
The words are caught in my throat, the desire and ecstasy already too overwhelming to speak.
Saint kisses one of my lips, then the other. I grind my heels into the mattress, a frustrated groan hissing through my teeth.
Fuck this. I want his tongue on my clit. I want his tongue thrusting into my pussy the way it was in my mouth. I want this torment to end.
He plants a kiss on my mound, agonizingly close to my clit but still not giving me the pleasure I’m aching for. “Stop being a fucking tease.”
A hum low in his throat. “I don’t like hearing the wordstopfrom your mouth.”
In punishment, he drops his head back to my thighs, licking and sucking his way down to my ankles. I let out an incoherent scream of aggravation, yanking fruitlessly at his belt binding my wrists.
My clit throbs as he makes his way from my ankle back up my leg, kissing and nipping along my mound. A man has never made me wait this long for his cock in my pussy, let alone his tongue. The wait is excruciating.
“Tell me you want this.” His hot breath hits my soaked pussy, and a whimper vibrates in my throat. “That you want my tongue licking your clit. You want my tongue plunging into your pussy, licking up that sweet wetness waiting for me. That you want to worship my tongue.”
My nails bite into my palms. He’s going to put me through all this shit and then leave me wanting and aching for release if I don’t tell him everything he wants to hear. “Go to hell.”
“Say it.” He blows gently on my pussy now, making me jerk and tears of unfulfilled desire sting at my eyes. “Or I won’t let you come.”
Like he’s the one in control of my orgasms. “I’ll just use my vibrator after you leave.”
“You won’t find it.”
I jerk my head to my nightstand, and I curse. He took my fucking vibrator. “Asshole! That was brand new.”
“Not with the way you use it.” He chuckles. “From now on, if you want to come, you’ll need to use my tongue, fingers, or cock.”
“Screw you!” This is a whole new level of possessive, but I can’t even be surprised at this point. He was probably watching every night as I used my vibrator to come, jealous of an inanimate object.
“Trust me, muse,” he purrs. “Once I make you come, you’ll never want anything else.”
“Prove it,” I challenge, sick of this fucking torturous game. If the only way I can come is with his tongue on my pussy, then fuck it. I’ll take my stalker’s tongue, a murderer’s tongue, over another second of this torment.
“Apologize for moaning another man’s name.”
I clench my jaw, pussy pulsing and aching for release as I stay silent.
“Apologize if you want to come, Briar,” he warns.
Even on a gritty command, my name from his lips leaves me breathless. I wrench the words out. “I’m...sorry.”
“For?”
“Moaning another man’s name.”
“And what is the only name you will scream from now on?”
If I could move my wrists, I’d punch him. “Yours.”
