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I let my head fully rest back on his chest, my neck bared, my lips parted. He held me up, my body his to do with as he pleased, as if he were a maestro and I was his orchestra.
He slipped two fingers on either side of my clit, squeezing that bundle of nerves gently until I gasped and moaned. I was so close to going over the edge just from that alone. But all too quickly, he was sliding those fingers down, right between my pussy lips, my labia framing those thick digits.
Adryan used my wetness to slide up and down, to tease me as he circled my entrance before moving his fingers back up to my clit. And when he pinched that little bundle between his thumb and forefinger, I bit my lip hard enough I tasted blood, felt the sting of pain as I split my flesh.
A startled sound left me when suddenly the hand that had been holding my waist gripped my chin, tilting my head to the side. My eyes flared open as I looked up at him, the position arching my neck.
He leaned down and dragged his tongue across my bottom lip, licking up that bead of blood that no doubt formed along the small wound.
“If you asked me to destroy the world,” he said against my mouth, “I’d do it ten times over just to prove how loyal and devoted I am to you.” He smoothed his thumb along my jawline and dragged his tongue over my bottom lip again. “No one and nothing holds power over me.” He was breathing harder. “Except you.”
He kept stroking me so slowly, ensuring I didn’t get off, keeping me on that precipice.
“You’re so good and sweet. You’re an angel, and I’m a coldhearted, depraved devil. You’re too good for me, but I’m too fucking selfish to let you go. Because you’re mine.”
My mouth parted more, and he plunged his tongue deep inside, thrusting it in and out at an agonizingly slow, thorough pace that lit me up.
He broke away far too soon, and I panted, my eyes still closed, my lips feeling swollen.
“Things are going to happen, princess, things that are going to pull me away from you for a short time.”
I opened my eyes and blinked my vision back into focus, staring into his blue eyes. It was hard to think rationally, to understand what he was saying. His tone was so easygoing, like he didn’t have his hand shoved down my pants right now, like he wasn’t seconds away from making me come.
“W-What kinds of things?” My voice was threadbare as I tried to concentrate on what he said. I knew it was important, although I couldn’t explain how or why I knew that. But if he was making a point to tell me, then I should probably pay attention.
“Things that are dangerous, things I don’t want you anywhere near.” He kept touching me, slow and easy, a torturous pleasure that also pissed me off because I wanted to come. “And as much as I’d rather cut my own balls off than leave you…” he groaned. “Fuck, I’d do that just to keep you by my side. I have to do this, or an all-out war will happen.”
I assumed this was supernatural, Otherworld stuff, but I wasn’t in the right mind frame to even comprehend any of this. And I had a feeling that’s why he figured now was the right time to tell me. Damn him for the distraction.
Or maybe I should thank him for wanting to further protect me, to want to keep me sheltered from even more crazy stuff.
But goddamn him and his skilled fingers, and the way he touched me like he knew exactly how to bring me right to the edge.
“So smooth, kitty.” The double entendre of his words had my toes curling. “How grateful are you that you waxed this cunt?” He ran the pad of his index finger over my pussy hole, gently pressed it inside, but retreated far too soon.
I moaned in disappointment, and he chuckled low.
“Oh God. So glad,” I shamelessly admitted just as he added pressure to my clit.
I’d never been more thankful for waxing. It had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with liking the smooth feeling. But all that was changing with the former.
It was very sexual now.
To be able to feel his big, thick fingers, the slight calluses that made him seem even more masculine lining the digits, had my pussy so soaked I knew if not for my pants, I’d be dripping onto the floor.
I was so sensitive that if he just rubbed my clit a few times, I’d explode for him, just become a puddled mess of want and need. Already my pussy was drenched, my inner thighs obscenely soaked. But I wasn’t embarrassed by my body’s reaction. I wanted more. I wanted to become unhinged.
I wanted him to fuck me.
“How many women have you done this to? Brought to your home, touched like this?” I had no idea why the words spilled from me at that exact moment and hated that I cared how he answered.
He didn’t speak for long seconds, just continued to stroke me, bringing me higher and higher to the precipice of going over the edge and then skating away, leaving me a quivering mess so he had me falling back to reality just to repeat the process over again.
I was sweating and panting, feeling like I ran a marathon when I’d just been standing here letting him expertly play my body. But at the forefront of my consciousness, I dreaded his answer. Jealousy waged war inside me at the very thought of caring about how many women he touched, pleasured. But I wanted his honesty more, even if it made me sick.
“It’s only been you, Kayla.” Before I could respond to that, he slowly pushed a finger into my body, my inner muscles instantly clenched around it. “It’ll only ever be you.”
I reached behind and grabbed onto his shirt to steady myself as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of my pussy. I was making these embarrassing sounds of pleasure, but I couldn’t find it in myself to stop, already too far gone in my need.
