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“Please, Callum. I dreamed of you last night and—’’ I cut her off, taking her lips in a hungry kiss while positioning myself to hover above her. Her thigh’s part, lifting a bit to urge me closer while I maintain my distance. I’m not going to fuck her today. I’d never do that to her when I’m getting on a plane tomorrow night; she’ll be safer here until things settle down in London.
Then, I’m going to bring her home.
I’m going to make her my queen.
She releases a little mewl from the back of her throat, so much like the one a short while ago by her front door, and I can’t control the rumbled groan that builds in my chest. It’s deep and almost angry, spilling between her lips when I press mine a little harder. I take her mouth with every bit of the passion that’s been building since the day I saw her on Casper’s screen, while a hand slips beneath her head to grip long, soft tresses. The tighter my hold, the more she arches into me, swiping her tongue across mine in a sensual cadence that I throb to.
My cock jerks, seeking out her warmth, and fuck me—I want to take. To leave her a dirty mess, but not today. Today will be about her.
Next time…
I’ll be selfish.
Pulling my mouth from hers, I sit back and grip the bottom of her top, nearly ripping it in my haste to take it off. Her tits spill out, giving a small jiggle from the movement while the fabric lands somewhere on the floor. They’re perky. More than a handful of perfection that sit high on her chest while the pebbled tips tighten further under my heated gaze.
I don’t touch them for now, turning my focus to the next offending obstacle: her shorts.
I’m rough in my need to see all of her. The fabric gives a small groan, splitting on the right side while my hands drag them down shapely thighs and off the end of her feet where they’ll lay in tatters.
“Son of a bitch,” I hiss out, the sight of her bare and so wet is almost too much. It brings forth a haze of lust I can’t control. Every molecule in my DNA throbs within me; I’m hard while my mouth salivates—desires to catch the drops of wetness sliding from her tiny entrance and down toward her arse. “I’m going to taste you, sweet girl,” I groan, licking my bottom lip while flicking my eyes from her cunt to her sultry brown eyes. “Not a single inch of you will be left untouched. You will never forget the feel of my tongue or the bite of my teeth. How hard I made you come.”
“Callum, please. Please touch me.” Her cry settles on the tip of my cock like a shock of electricity, and I give in. My mouth brutally reclaims hers. Teeth clashing, tongues intertwining, but it’s the sting of her teeth embedding into my bottom lip that breaks the last of my resolve.
I pull back, gripping her neck while I trace a path down her chest with my tongue. Loving the skin, leaving little indents of my teeth until I reach her right nipple and nuzzle it. It’s soft; the perfect little dusky rose bead against my skin, but it feels better between my lips.
Suckling, I squeeze her left breast, weigh it in my palm before pinching the tip. It throbs under the harsh treatment, but my girl only moans, thighs trying to pull me in against her slick heat.
Aliana flushes, the tantalizing pink growing from her cheeks to the swell of each breast, and I smirk against her warm flesh.
Releasing her, I move across from one tip to the other. Bite. Lick. Sucking hard enough to sting before pulling back. “How sensitive are you, my Venus?” Not that I give her a chance to answer, testing her limits myself with one sharp smack to the slope of each breast, catching her nipples.
And the immediate scream that follows isn’t of pain, but of need. Of want.
Her muscles lock, a hiss catching between small teeth before beads of sweat begin to spread. I lick the path from her sternum to belly button, savoring each salty drop before tugging at the small piercing there with my teeth.
Aliana hisses, while I smirk. “Something wrong, Miss Rubens?”
“Yes.”
“Then speak.” Another bite, this time on the area between her abdomen and mound. There I pause, resting my chin while she squirms. Trembles for me. And while she gathers her thoughts, vocalizes her needs, I begin to trace the lines of a beautiful tattoo adorning the space/skin from hip to just below her breast with a tip of a finger.
It’s a black and grey vine curving along her skin, its thorns embedding in her flesh while roses bloom where each puncture would be. They grow from the representation of blood, hers, giving life to each flower that grows in the same color. Vibrant reds in different tones, yet striking against her lightly tanned complexion.
“Enchanting.” I follow my digit with my lips and tongue, tracing from the top to bottom and then nipping her hip. Her scent is so sweet, decadent, and I inhale deeply. “You’re a treasure worth savoring, Aliana. Worshipping.”
A gasp escapes her, hips rising off the bed. An offering. A silent demand to touch where she needs me most.
My eyes leave hers. Slowly, I take in her hard nipples, the contracting of her flat stomach, and then the way her hands clench at her sides, gripping the sheet tight. The fine mist of her sweat, wetness, and that mind-fucking smell of peaches is all around me. Enhanced. Drowning me.
But nothing. Not a bloody thing compares to the pink of her cunt and the wetness that clings to her bare lips when I settle right over it. My breathing is hard, every muscle tight.
Aliana whines, the sound almost angry before slim fingers grip my hair. She pulls, forcing my eyes from her pussy to her face. “No more waiting. I need—”
“Only me,” I growl before my lips graze her clit. The soft touch makes her shake, nearly pulling my hair from its root, but I pay no mind. She could leave bald spots for all I care. All that matters is the softness, her natural scent, and the hungriness in which I lick her from tiny entrance to clit, sucking the small bundle of nerves between my teeth as a deep groan reverberates through every inch of me.
One taste. A barely there touch.
I’m gone.
