Page 75 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

Axel rose up onto his knees, then grinned, looking a little drunk. That he could look like that after going down on me for the better part of an hour was a wonder. I’d always been self conscious about this particular act. Worried about if I needed a shower, or wouldn’t taste good. But it was Ambrose who had destroyed my confidence on the matter. When he’d visited the bathroom after going down on me to swish with mouthwash, like he couldn’t wait to get the taste of me out of his mouth. There’d been no chance of enjoying it after that. And every time he went down on me following that night, I simply pretended to enjoy it before we got on to sex.

Which, considering all things, had clearly been lackluster if a single orgasm from Axel was a thousand times better than the ones I’d had with Ambrose Blackthorn.

“I think it’s time to put my mouth to a different use,” Axel teased, bending to place wet kisses along my stomach. “Been wanting to suck on these tits.”

I gasped, my body overly sensitive as he latched on to a nipple. His hand came up to knead my other. The weight of him settled between my thighs and I sighed, loving the feel of him. He’d transformed in the past hour. From vulnerable and heartbroken to powerful and commanding. Back to the strong male I knew him to be. But it was the strongest males who could still show vulnerabilities. He’d felt comfortable enough to do that. With me.

And that meant something.

His teeth were maddening as he nipped, tugging at my nipple, making me arch into him. “You’ve been such a good girl, coming for me.”

He lifted his head and fused his lips to mine. It was an explosion of tastes, none of them bad. The tang of my arousal, mixed with his unique flavor. I loved it—instantly. The reminder of where he’d been. The evidence that he’d obviously loved it. Which seemed impossible.

My belly tightened with the knowledge.

I didn’t think it was possible. After three, how the hell could I feel that familiar ache returning? That hungry need for another.

Axel pulled back, releasing my kiss swollen lips and studied me. Then he made a show of inhaling. “There it is. Ready for me again, sweetheart?”

I groaned. “How? How are you doing this to me?”

He chuckled.

When his lips found mine again, his fingers slipped between my thighs. He shifted his weight, then began working me, swirling my arousal around before slipping inside me. First one finger, then two. “The only downside to using my tongue,” he said, pulling back. “And I mean the only downside. Is that I can’t get a front row seat to watch the expressions you make as you come. But this way…”

He thrust in deep, hitting the perfect spot. I moaned, bucking my hips up. Sensation exploded like fireworks, starting at the base of my spine and zinging upwards.

“This way, I get to watch up close how beautiful you look when you come apart on my hand.”

“Yes,” I breathed, rocking my hips against his hand.

“Fuck my fingers while I watch. You can tell me how they compare to yours.”

“Better—so much better.”

“Yeah?” His smirk was smug. “How so?”

“Thicker. Longer. You can hit—yes, right there. Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The obscene sound of his fingers and my wetness should have made me self conscious. But I was beyond that. Desperate and on edge.

His palm pressed into my clit as he thrust in and out, scissoring his fingers. Everything in me tightened. Pressure built. My head pressed back into the pillow, eyes falling closed.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. Want to see you.”

My cheeks flamed with heat but I forced my eyes open. Forced myself to be vulnerable for him. I’d never come this way, eyes locked on another person. Had always hidden away behind the backs of my eyelids.

Staring into his gaze, seeing the fierce expression of concentration on his face. The way my pleasure was his only concern⁠—

I detonated, coming apart with a cry as I arched off the bed. He caught my mouth, swallowing up the rest of the sound, growling and kissing me hungrily. His fingers slowed as I came down, movements turning to caresses.

The feel of his tongue against mine, movements languid and unhurried, paired with the release of tension in my muscles, had me sinking more deeply into the pillows.

When he pulled back to look at me, he wore a mischievous expression. “Now that my mouth has had a little break⁠—”

“What?!” I balked as he scooted down my body then promptly buried his face in my pussy. Again. I jerked, crying out. “Axel—I can’t!”