Page 82 of Gilded in Blood

The moment our lips touch, it’s electric. This isn’t the soft brush from earlier. This is deep, hungry, exploratory.

His mouth moves against mine like he’s been starving for it, tongue sliding in to taste me, claiming me in a way that makes my toes curl. I moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his hair as I kiss him back just as desperately.

I start to slowly grind against him, feeling his cock harden fully beneath me. He groans into my mouth, hands gripping my waist tighter.

He pulls back slightly, breathing hard. “Milana, baby… you’ve been through a lot tonight. You need rest.”

“No,” I whisper, kissing him again, rolling my hips more insistently. “I need you. I want you inside me. Please.”

He groans, the sound low and tortured, but I can feel how much he wants this too. His hands slide under my shirt, gripping my bare skin as I continue to grind against him.

“Are you sure?” he rasps against my lips.

I answer by kissing him harder, pouring everything I feel into it. The confusion, the hurt, the desire, the need.

“Fuck me,” I breathe against his mouth. “Please.”

He responds with a deep, guttural growl that vibrates against my lips, and then he’s kissing me again, rougher this time, more desperate.

Like he’s pouring every ounce of pent-up need and frustration into it. I kiss him back just as hungrily, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer as our tongues tangle.

His hands are everywhere. He helps me out of my clothes with impatient tugs, and I do the same to him, fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers until we’re both naked, skin against skin.

We explore each other with greedy hands and mouths. His lips on my neck, my breasts, my stomach, while my hands trace the hard planes of his chest, his abs, the V of his hips.

He lifts me off his lap and lays me down on the couch, spreading my legs wide. He settles between them, eyes dark with hunger as he looks at me. Then he lowers his head and devours me.

His tongue is relentless. He licks broad stripes up my slit, savoring me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.

When he reaches my clit, he sucks it into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue while one hand comes up to knead my breast, pinching and rolling my nipple. I moan loudly, hips bucking against his face.

He doesn’t use his fingers. Just his mouth. He licks and sucks and fucks me with his tongue, alternating between long, slow strokes and fast, precise flicks that make my thighs shake.

I’m riding his face before I even realize it, grinding against his mouth, chasing the pleasure as it builds higher and higher.

“Oh God—” I cry out, fingers tightening in his hair.

He growls against me, the vibration pushing me over the edge. I come hard, back arching off the couch, thighs clamping around his head as waves of intense pleasure crash through me.

He keeps licking me through it, drawing out every last tremor until I’m a trembling, whimpering mess.

When I finally come down, I sit up, still breathing hard. I slide off the couch and drop to my knees between his legs, looking up at him as I wrap my hand around his thick cock.

I’ve watched videos. I know the basics. But I’ve never done this before.

“Will you show me?” I ask, voice shy but eager. “I want to make you feel good too.”

“You don't have to, baby⁠—”

“I want to. Show me?”

He brings his hand to my face, gently tucking my hair behind my ear. His voice is rough when he speaks. “Just like this. Slow at first. Use your tongue.”

I lean in, licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock before taking the head into my mouth. He groans, hand gently guiding the back of my head. I take more of him, sucking softly, and he hisses through his teeth.

“Fuck, just like that,” he murmurs. “Deeper, solnyshko. Relax your throat.”

I try, taking him deeper, but I gag a little when he hits the back of my throat. He pulls back slightly, giving me room to breathe, but I don’t stop. I want this. I want to make him feel as good as he made me feel.