Page 86 of A Betrothal So Bloody

And I realize—he’s fucking my mouth.

I can’t tell how long it’s been when Dante withdraws, giving me a chance to pull in a few deep gasps.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No,” I rasp, looking up at him with watering eyes, a silent invitation in the slight curve of my lips.

I lean in, trailing my mouth along his slick length until my nose brushes against the short gold hairs that trail up to his navel.

I can take him deeper. I know I can.

In a blink, he’s back in my mouth. I gag when he pushes further this time, almost hitting the back of my throat. I can’t pull in more than a shallow gasp of air around his girth. My moan of surprise catching around him, seems to nearly tip him over the edge. Dante gasps and curses.

He fists a hand into my hair at the roots—as though to make sure his view remains unobstructed. I can’t imagine I possibly look attractive like this, with my eyes bloodshot and expression strained. But there’s no denying when I steal a glance up at him—he’s in heaven, that shadowed glint memorizing me.

“Can you suck harder?” his voice cuts through my dizziness. “Harder.”

I do my best—and I feel another shiver of pleasure run through his whole body.

“Oh my God,” he groans, like a plea. I rather like it, hearing him all but begging me. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

It dawns on me, the power I have here on my knees. Each stroke of my tongue is undoing him more than any blade ever could.

With a haggard noise, Dante pulls out, leaving me gasping and wiping saliva from my mouth. I don’t get a moment to recompose my dignity before he’s heaving me back to my feet.

The air clips my bare skin until I’m wrapped in his arms again. He kisses me with shocking gentleness along my shoulders and up my throat while filthy words burn my ears.

“Look at the stars in your eyes,” Dante murmurs.

“I—wasn’t finished.” I pant.

“I know. I nearly was,” Dante ducks to kiss my swollen lips. “The woman sent to kill me… So pretty on her knees for me. You’re making me lose my goddamn mind. Christ, Ariya.”

My expression turns reproachful. “Must you be blasphemous?”

“My very existence is sacrilege, and you pry at semantics?” He pinches my mouth, running a thumb over my lower lip—very much looking like he’s replaying the entire exchange already.

“It’s a crime that you’ll be locked away in that fucking abbey. This mouth was made to take me.” His smirk softens. “Did you like that?”

I nod.

“You’ll enjoy this, too.”

He locks his arms around me and pulls us into shallower waters, shoving my back up against another tree. My feet scramble for purchase against the tangle of roots, but with his grip, I doubt I’d fall an inch even if I wanted to. There’s a gratifying ease on his face as he takes control, as though it may literally kill him if he isn’t on top.

But even as the rough bark digs into my skin, I have no urge to complain under his caresses. Every skillful touch of his hands is a heaven that I don’t deserve.

Twining his fingers through mine, he lifts my arm and drags his mouth along the inside of my wrist. The pinpricks of his fangs make me shiver. I watch, spellbound, as he leaves behind a faint pink line in his wake from the careful pressure. The amount of control it must take not to pierce all the way through and claim the blood singing to him makes me squirm.

Freeing my arm, I arch toward him, seizing his hips to invite him back into me with no unclear terms.

“Please—” I whisper.

“Not so fast.”

Effortlessly, he flips me around so that my back is against him. I gasp, twisting painfully against the tree bark—stopping only when his hands drag down my shoulders. Pressure travels along my back, gathering at my waist and turning at my hips. A noise sticks in my throat as he stops to grab handfuls of my ass, squeezing hard and spreading me.

His voice tickles my ear. “Look at this. I’m going to burn every last one of your gowns so that nothing can hide this perfect ass from me.” He squeezes again, eliciting one of those sinful noises from me he’s so fond of. “Or maybe I should be grateful those damn skirts keep this prize out of sight—so it stays mine.”