Page 135 of Vow Of Fire

Evelyn was the only woman I’d ever gotten on my knees for, and even though she didn’t know it yet, that meant something. She was mine now.

I delved deeper, working my way toward her clit. I knew exactly when I’d found it because she bucked against me and let out a low moan.

“God, Dante. That feels so good.”

Her words were music to my ears.

I was like a starving man who couldn’t get enough as I brought her closer and closer to orgasm. She squirmed as that tight bundle of nerves swelled and hardened under my tongue. Her chest heaved as she gasped in ragged breaths of air. Every now and then she gave a harsh cry and squirmed, but I held her hips firm and didn’t let up.

I felt the moment she tipped over the edge, because she tensed, her whole body freezing as if suspended in midair. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, there was no sound other than my sucking on her swollen bud.

Then she let out a rough cry and arched her back, bucking violently against my mouth as she came undone. I pinned her in place and kept going, not letting up even for a second as she rode out her orgasm.

Fuck, I loved making her come. The woman was a goddess. A beautiful, sexual goddess.

Finally, the spasms stopped and she let out a broken sob. Only then did I pull away and get to my feet again.

She lay half reclined on her elbows, breathing heavily. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone like dazzling gemstones as she stared at me with something like awe. It made me feel fucking invincible.

“More relaxed?” I asked, the grin threatening to come back.

“Oh yes.” Her laughter warmed me to the depths of my cold, black soul.

I watched as she took a thirsty gulp of wine, then shook off the cream blazer, letting it drop behind her onto the kitchen tiles.

“Now it’s my turn.”

My pulse kicked hard as she slid off the counter and came to stand in front of me. Desire tightened low in my gut, sharp and immediate. I was already painfully hard for her.

When she undid my zipper and freed me, I let out a rough breath that quickly turned into a groan as she sank gracefully to her knees.

Her fingers wrapped around me slowly, confidently, stroking me with deliberate pressure that nearly shattered what little control I had left.

“Jesus Christ, Ophelia…”

Watching her unravel for me had almost pushed me over the edge already. Somehow, I’d managed to hold myself together. Barely. But with her hand working my cock and her soft mouth teasing the sensitive tip, I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer.

And that was a problem.

Because this—being watched while I lost control—felt dangerously close to exposure.

Weakness. Vulnerability.

Two things I’d spent my entire life burying beneath violence, discipline, and power.

Coming apart inside a woman was different. Usually we were both too consumed by the moment for it to matter. I controlled the pace. The rhythm. The outcome.

But this?

This was her seeing me stripped down to something primal and helpless beneath her touch. Knowing exactly what she could do to me.

A shudder worked through me. I hadn’t surrendered control like that since I was seventeen.

Part of me wanted to let go. To hand her that power and see what she’d do with it. The thought alone terrified me. I should stop her now, before it went too far.

Instead, I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, silently giving myself over to the pleasure for one more dangerous minute.

Her lips closed around the head of my cock and I swore under my breath, fingers tightening instinctively in her hair.