Page 26 of Carnival of Crows

“Tell me to stop,” he said. “If you want me to, tell me to stop now.”

But that’s the thing. I didn’t want him to stop, so I shook my head.

“Use your words, little bird,” he coaxed.

“I don’t want you to stop,” I said.

Then his hands were on my jeans. Without hesitation he popped the button and dragged the zipper down. The cold air hit my skin as he yanked them off, rough and urgent, as he knelt down, his breath hot against my thigh.

He kissed me through my fishnets and the black lace thong I was wearing and any self-control I had left went right out the fucking window.

“So wet for me already,” he murmured as he gently pulled down my nylons and my panties in one tug. “Such a good girl."

His praise sent a jolt straight to my core. I whimpered, my fingers tightening in his hair as his mouth hovered just above where I needed him most.

"Damien -"

His name was a plea, a prayer, but he only chuckled, low and dark.

"Shhh. Let me take care of you."

His tongue dragged through my folds, slow and deliberate, and I gasped, my back arching off the railing. The cold metal bit into my spine, but I didn’t care. All I could feel was the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue swirled around my clit, teasing, torturing.

"That’s it," he growled against me. "Just like that. You take my tongue so well."

My thighs trembled, my breath coming in ragged gasps as he worked me over, his fingers joining his mouth, two thick digits sliding inside me with a slow, relentless rhythm.

"God, you’re perfect.” His voice was rough with need. "So tight. So responsive. My good girl."

The praise unraveled me. My body coiled tight, my hips rolling against his face as he devoured me, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync.

"Please," I begged, my voice breaking. "Please, Damien, I need…”

"I know what you need,” he growled, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that spot that made my vision blur. "You need to come for me, little bird. Right now."

His tongue flicked over my clit, fast and merciless, and I shattered, my body convulsing as pleasure ripped through me. His name tore from my throat, raw and desperate, as he lapped at me through my orgasm, his grip on my hips bruising, possessive.

When I finally came down, my body boneless and trembling, he stood, his mouth glistening, his eyes dark with hunger.

"Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come," he said. "But I’m not done with you yet."

He untied my shoes, sliding them off one by one, and then slipping the rest of my clothing off, leaving it all in a pile. Then, he pulled me to the table in the middle of the tower, lifting me up so my ass was just on the edge. Just as his hand was on his zipper, he cursed.

“I wasn’t planning this,” he admitted. “I don’t have a condom.”

Before reason could even process in my brain the words were flying out of my mouth.

“I just had my yearly visit, I’m clean,” I told him. Quickly adding, “And I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean too,” he said, as he closed the space between us, leaning down to kiss me.

Maybe this was completely fucking crazy, and who knows if I’d come to regret it, but I trusted him.

"You ready for me, good girl?" he whispered against my mouth, his voice rough with need.

I nodded, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

And when he finally pushed inside me, it was with a slow, deliberate thrust that stole my breath, his hips rolling against mine in a rhythm that felt like a vow. The park was still full of life below, but all I could hear was the sound of our bodies moving together, the gasps and moans that filled the night air, and the way his name spilled from my lips like a prayer.