“You’ll learn,” he assured me. “You have centuries for that.”
I didn’t feel like I had centuries. I felt like I had only this moment, and I needed to wring every drop of pleasure from it I could before everything came crashing down.
“But,” he drawled, “I may be able to provide you with some guidance.”
“You do love instructing me,” I grumbled. At least this time when it ended with me on my back, it wasn’t because I’d lost.
“Mmm, I think you’ll like this lesson best. Keep your hands on your body. Donottake them off.”
He slid lower on my body, hands trailing along my hips. I obeyed, shaking my wrists and then putting my hands on my stomach.
“You can move them,” he said. “Place them where it feels good. Try your breasts.”
I slid my hands up, eager to obey. Drops of blood from when I’d fed smeared across my body as I ran my palms over my breasts, painting myself for him. Raphael looked up at me with hungry eyes, his head now above my navel. Remembering the way he’d sucked them last night, I moved my fingers to my areolas, pinching and tugging.
“That’s it. Play with your pretty nipples for me.”
His voice sent a shiver down my spine. Raphael moved his hands back low, taking my thighs and spreading them wide. I inhaled sharply. His movement wasn’t harsh, but sudden. It left me utterly exposed.
“Raphael…” My hands stilled. I knew what he was doing—had imagined it. Yet now that his face was inches from my sex, I hesitated.
“Trust me, Samara. I think you’ll like it, even if I’m not exactly kneeling before you.”
He held me there, waiting. I gave a short nod, all the permission he needed.
“You’re pretty here.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh. “Everywhere, really. So perfect. When I got a taste last night, I knew I couldn’t wait to have you directly on my tongue.”
That was the only warning he gave me before he shifted, running his tongue up the length of my folds.
My hips immediately bucked at contact, but he held me in place. “So sweet for me.”
He ran his tongue over me several times, teasing my entrance, before he moved deeper. I gasped. This felt nothing like his fingers. I tried to roll against him, but he held me, so instead I threaded my hand in his hair. He didn’t lift his head as he pried my hand from his hair and guided my fingers back to my nipple, using my hand to pinch tightly. A reprimand that left me gasping.
“Keep your hands on your body, wicked girl, or I’ll have to tie them up.”
The image as much as the hint of pain was what made me gasp. I ran one hand over my throat. It was a different type of helplessness than when he’d held me down.
His hands didn’t have me pinned, but I was obeying anyway. I was putting myself at his mercy.
“Why can’t I touch you?” I whined. I might be obedient, but I was still confused. Didn’t he want to feel me?
He gave a long suck of my clit that had me crying out before he replied, “I want you desperate to touch me. I want you to ache so bad you think you’ll die if you can’t feel me. I want you to knowhow it feels,” he finished in a growl, his hot breath teasing my sex.
“Shouldn’t I be learning how to please you?” It was hard to complain convincingly, especially as he pressed another kiss to my center.
“You are. Seeing you writhe with pleasure is a sweeter sight than any other.” He tugged at my clit, letting me feel just a hint of teeth that made me wild. “And the most important lesson is to learn whatyoulike.”
I whimpered. “This. I like this.”
“You like to feel my teeth?” He repeated the movement. “Or do you like when I shove my tongue inside your pretty folds and make you scream?”
He lowered his head again, tormenting me. His grip grew tighter, as if he didn’t want me to get away. I was so wet, so needy, and he continued to lap it up as if he were a starving man and I was a feast just for him. He was relentless, not pausing, not giving quarter. He ate me out like he fought—relentless until I yielded.
“That.Ohgods, Raphael, just like that.” My tone grew huskier. I pinched and kneaded, trying to counterbalance the onslaught of pleasure with an edge of pain. I curled my toes, feeling needy in every part of my body. “I’m going to come.”
He growled against me, a raw, masculine sound, but didn’t stop. This time, when my orgasm rolled into me, it was different. Not subtler, but a more languid build, intensity rising in a demanding thrum. It hit me not in just one wave but several, colliding together. Raphael didn’t slow down, sucking, tonguing, teasing the sensitive nerves at my center. When it finally subsided, my body relaxed into the mattress as if I’d just run a hundred laps around the arena.
“You’re a merciless male.”
