Page 62 of Sinful Lord

I’m not sure how much I can take. But I’m already desperate to find my limit.

The arousal that had disappeared just moments before Tytus burst through my door has returned in full force.

I need to see how far I can go.

“As you wish,” Tytus says.

His next kiss falls further up the inside of my thigh. Every inch of me reacts. My legs clamp around his ears even as I try to pull him up by the hair.

“Oh my god…” I whimper, voice shaking.

But Tytus isn’t having it. Those strong hands pry me apart with ease.

“If it’s too much, you tell me to stop and I will. Do you understand, Melina?”

The way he says my name nearly makes me cry, it’s so beautiful and intense.

“Do. You. Understand?” he repeats, refusing to continue until I give him what he wants.

Fortunately, it’s the exact same thing I desperately want.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl,” he huffs. “You’re not allowed to shatter on me, little dove. Only a certain type of woman can bring me to my knees. And no one has ever done it this quickly. I can worship you. All you have to do is let me.”

“I’ll let you,” I plead. “I’ll let you… I’ll let you…”

Each repetition takes on a higher frequency as Tytus returns his lips to my skin.

“You are absolutely delicious,” he growls, his hot breath washing up my legs until it hits me in just the right spot.

I squirm, but Tytus reaches up to my hips and holds me down. The faint stubble on his face tickles my skin as he descends deeper into the untouched.

The pressure in my core is ready to erupt. It just needs a spark. Anything will do. I’m already preparing myself when Tytus gives me what I need.

But it’s more than a spark. Shit. It feels like he plunges me into a wonderful fire.

“Yes!” I cry as his tongue comes out to lap up the residue of what’s left on the inside of my thighs. He paints my skin in broad strokes, each one more ravenous than the last.

“You taste so good,” he grunts. “And I haven't even gotten to the best part yet.”

It doesn’t take him long to rectify that. That thick, wet tongue lashes between my soaking lips, finding my clit in a rapturous instant.

It’s like my soul is sucked from my body. My nails dig deep into his scalp as my chest is launched from the mattress. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to breathe. I want to suffocate in this feeling.

But Tytus has hardly even gotten started. And I only truly understand that when those juicy lips of his close in around my swollen clit.

He sucks me up like a lollipop.

I lose it.

“Please. Yes,” I repeat. Over and over again. It’s all I know how to say. And it hardly even matters when I realize I’m just repeating part of what I heard on that sex tape he accidentally sent me.

I want Tytus to turn me into his slut. Because if this is how good his mouth feels, I can’t imagine how amazing the rest is.

“You like this, angel? Do you want more?”

“Yes!” I shout. “Please!”