He reaches for the small pot of thick cream, now knocked over on its side, its contents spilling onto the table in slow, decadent ribbons. His eyes never leave mine as he dips two fingers inside, coating them in the velvety sweetness.
“Hungry?” he murmurs, voice dark, decadent.
“Starving.”
His other hand flexes on my thigh as he growls.
I part my lips, and he slides his fingers inside, pressing against my tongue, coating my taste buds in the creamy mixture of milk and sugar and him. I close my lips around him, sucking slowly, my tongue swirling over his skin as I savor every drop.
“Lay back,” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “I want to eat my dessert.”
I do as he says, sinking back against the table, my body humming with anticipation as I watch him through heavy-lidded eyes.
Alderic scoops up more of the thick cream, dragging two fingers through the luxurious sweetness, letting it drip down his hand.
His gaze meets mine as he hooks my leg and spreadsme open.
I gasp as he glides those two fingers slowly over my clit. The cool cream against the heat of my skin sends a shockwave through me. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, doesn’t rush. He moves over me slowly, again and again, spreading the sweetness until I’m writhing beneath his touch, until I’m nothing but desperation and need.
And then his fingers slide inside me. Slow at first. Deep.
A moan claws its way from my throat as he pushes farther, curling them just right, finding that place that makes my vision white out at the edges.
I arch off the table, hips chasing his hand, gasping his name like it’s the only word I remember.
He bends down and his mouth is on me. His tongue licks through the mess he’s made of me, slow and savoring. Every stroke of his tongue is a praise, every flick a question I answer with a cry.
His fingers press deeper, filling me with a slow, punishing, perfect rhythm, dragging me higher and higher while he continues to worship me with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth.
He devours me like he’s starving. Like I’m salvation. Like this is the only thing that’s ever mattered.
And when I shatter—when I come so hard I break apart in his hands—he’s there to catch every trembling piece.
Alderic pulls his fingers from me slowly, dragging out the sensation, leaving me shuddering, quaking beneath him. My pulse pounds in my ears, shockwaves coursing through me, my body desperate for more even as I layboneless against the table.
And then—his tongue sweeps over his fingers.
He groans deep in his chest, his eyes hooded as he licks me clean from his skin, savoring every last taste. “Like honey,” he rasps, his voice drenched in sin. “So fucking delicious.” His tongue flicks over the tip of his finger, his gaze locked onto mine. “The best dessert I’ve ever had.”
Heat caresses my spine at his words, at the way he looks at me. Like he could feast on me forever.
I sit up, still breathless, still feeling the echoes of pleasure thrumming through my limbs. My hands find his chest, tracing down, down, lower. His muscles clench beneath my touch, but he doesn’t stop me.
He watches, his pupils dark pools of hunger and need as I undo the laces of his pants, my fingers brushing over the thick length of him, straining against the fabric.
I meet his gaze, lips curving into a wicked smirk. “My turn.”
I slide off the table and press my bare skin against his as I descend. My fingers forge a path down the hard planes of his chest and then the soft scar that cuts across his abdomen before my lips replace them.
Alderic groans, a deep, ragged sound as I slide his trousers down his hips. His cock is thick, flushed, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. His breath stutters, fingers flexing at his sides as if he’s fighting for control.
But I don’t want his control.
I want his surrender.
I press a lingering kiss to the sharp cut of his hip, my hands smoothing up his thighs, over the tension coiled beneath his skin. His muscles twitch under my touch,every part of him strung tight, barely restrained.
“Gemma,” he swallows, his fingers finally giving in, tangling in my hair as he strokes his thumb along my temple in a silent plea. “Taste me.”
