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“I was attracted to you from the start. Oh, the things I did to get you, wild flame, you would never forgive me for them.”
“What things?” she whispers.
I reach up and brush my thumb over her bottom lip, then push it inside her mouth. She doesn’t resist. Control is quickly escaping my grip, and it’s a fucking struggle to maintain a semblance of it.
“This isn’t about my sins, wild flame. It’s about yours. What decadent things did you want to do to the bastard who’d deep-throated you on your first date?”
A nasty little memory flashes through her dark eyes as she stares down at me. I can feel it, searing its way up my spine.
“I imagined you chained by your neck,” she says, her voice low and husky. Her eyebrows dip, her features contorting as if she’s not particularly proud of what she’s about to say. “I imagined you scratched and bruised and bitten, restrained, while I rode your face. I’d–” She stops, and I suck in a sharp breath. My lip curls over my teeth, a vicious hiss escaping me. Her eyes widen with fear, her wrists still firmly secured in my hands.
“Go on,” I urge her, my voice rasping like the claws of a beast dragging over granite.
“How can I? Knowing what you’ve been through as a child, I hate myself for being so cruel–”
“Hate yourself?”
“You don’t need yet another villain to use you for their sick pleasures,” she argues.
I push my face between her legs.
“Sick pleasures?” My tongue slides through her slit, so greedy that the tip strokes her from the crack of her ass up to her clit. I moan at the full taste of her, my eyelids heavy. I want to close my eyes and enjoy it, but I can’t miss a single expression on her face. Watching her take sexual gratification from me is a kink in its own right. She can’t even imagine how hard I got from the scenario she just put into my head.
“If I’ll ever hand over control to someone, it’s you,” I tell her, holding both her wrists in one hand now.
She’s panting, her mouth open, her eyes hanging on mine. I stick out my tongue, showing her what I’m going to drive inside her pussy with what I know is a diabolical look on my face. She jerks her hips forward, the silk under her butt soaked from her arousal.
“I’ll make that pussy come so hard,” I purr, a demon about to drag her down to hell with him.
I lick her slit, causing her to moan with need, craving to be filled by my tongue. She strains against my grip on her wrists, but I use it to maneuver her exactly into the position I want her, a little leaned back.
“I know it’s rich of me to ask, but just trust me,” I growl, my breath hovering over her throbbing clit. “I’ll take good care of you, wild flame.”
She leans so far back that her hair brushes the floor, while my grip keeps her balanced. She’s now slid far enough to expose that glorious pussy to me completely, her legs spread as far as they’ll go to allow my face access, my erection tearing against my pants. My cock fucking aches to drive into her, but I have to hold that bastard down just a little longer.
I slide my tongue inside her slowly, torturously for both of us.
“Ah, Zayne, please,” she moans, her walls clamping down on my tongue. Just imagining that feeling on my dick has me growling with need. I push deeper and then go on fucking her with my tongue until she starts shaking her head deliriously, calling out my name again and again.
It’s like angels are singing to my ears, but my need for control only rises instead of lessening. None of this would have ever happened if I hadn’t taken matters into my own hands and kidnapped Joseph.
Guilt twists inside my chest while the veins in my cock swell. Sirenna grinds her pussy against my face, screaming out my name while I tell myself that what I did was in her best interest from the start. Joseph intended to let his enemies tear her apart, and then have a go at each other before he emerged. That way he got rid of a wife who had too much on him to walk out on him quietly, plus that he protected his wealth.
But then Priest’s voice hisses inside my head.
Secrets.
Secrets kill a relationship, and I can’t build one with Sirenna as long as I still have them.
But if she knew, she’d never accept me. No one could ever love someone like me. My own mother, the woman who fucking spawned me decided I wasn’t worthy of sticking around for. And my father, that old creep, knew what was happening to me in that basement and never once interfered. Yeah, I’d busted his face, but if I had a child with Sirenna, a son, I’d let him pummel me to a pulp and still put my neck on the guillotine for him. And if we had a daughter I’d put the world at her feet, starting by worshiping her mother.
Thinking of children with this woman is my undoing.
I run an arm under her knees, gathering her legs together only for a second, as long as it takes to lift her from the chair and set her down on the table. She’s still dizzy from the quick setting change when I swipe our breakfast off the table, plates and glasses shattering on the floor before I push her legs up, my hips settling between them.
I grab her hands and place them on her knees.
“You want dick?” I demand huskily.
