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“I want—” I cut off as he braces his free hand on my thigh, his grip tightening, and all I can see is his dark hair.
His laughter grows, a guttural sound, while he licks me. Sucks me, laps at me, withdrawing only when I arch. Everything else fades away, and my focus centers on him. On the way he curses and swipes through me again. Again. Driving his tongue right into my pussy and circling.
“I know what you want,” he whispers against me, teasing my clit with a flick of the tip of his tongue before he sucks again.
My nerves are shot. Everything inside of me shatters into a thousand pieces, but the orgasm isn’t there yet. Not when he’s teasing me this way.
“You want my cock where my tongue is, don’t you, Isabella?” He punctuates the statement with a luxurious lap through my folds. “And you taste like a dream. You taste like I’ll never need to eat again because your pussy is so sweet.”
I’m incapable of speech. Not when I’ve thought about this very position since the day I met him. Not when he’s torturing me with every sweep of that talented tongue and driving me closer and closer to the edge I’ve only approached with my hands.
Dreaming of him, too.
Dreaming of the way he’d consume me.
His laughter deepens as if he hears every indecent thing inside my head.
The man eats pussy like a god. He knows every sweet spot, every secret sensitive fold that drives me out of my mind.
He glances up at me only long enough for our eyes to lock before he focuses all of his attention on my clit. I cry out, his hand pushing down on my abdomen to hold me still. The look on his face?—
He knows he has the right area. He knows I want absolutely everything he has to give me as I jerk my hips against him. Driving him closer and closer.
“This is payback,” he manages to whisper. “For the glory hole. Fair is fair, isn’t it? Orgasm for orgasm?”
Then it’s the only kind of payback I want. The kind involving suckling and nips, the kind where I am savored and sampled and?—
I ride his face as his movements grow harder. He uses his teeth against me, and my release gathers at the edge of my consciousness.
He moans my name into my core, and I fracture.
The climax rips through me, sending me straight over the edge until my hips arch high, my head thrown back. Sensation cascades through me to the point of oblivion. And through it all, a slow buzz.
A muffled growl.
And seconds later, Ricardo rears back and draws his head from between my legs. My desire is slicked across his lips and his chin, his eyes angry as he reaches for his ringing phone.
“What?”
The single word conveys a world of anger. Ricardo turns his back to me, the voice on the other end muffled. There’s a moment of pause, the silence giving me enough time to come down from the high, although my heart beats rapidly against the inside of my ribs.
Ricardo ends the call, but his shoulders are tight, strained.
“Isabella? Did you happen to accept something tonight? A gift?” He cranes his head over his shoulder to glance at me.
My eyebrows draw together. “Why?”
“Answer the question. Did Drago give you something tonight?”
A hard pit forms in my stomach, and I shift to discreetly tuck my wrist behind my head to hide the bracelet. “Yes. Why?”
Ricardo refuses to look at me, and tension replaces every atom of pleasure inside of me. He hunches forward, his shoulder quivering before he regains control and shoves them back. “Because he owns you now. And he’s threatening war because we took you away tonight.”
6
RICARDO
What would I not do to help Isabella? The question ricochets along the interior of my skull, bouncing around until it multiples. Very soon, it may shift from my mind to my reality as I work through what Moran just told me about Drago Prokhor.
