Page 392 of Primal

“Look at me,” I murmur.

Does she see it?

That it’s the one place I’ve ever fucking fit—right here, between her legs.

I’d burn for her. Die for her. Worship her and ruin her in the same breath.

My tongue swipes across her. She writhes, tries to squirm free.

And it goes from too much to nowhere near enough.

I grip her thighs, feasting on her like this is my prayer, my penance, my fucking reward. Lick her lazily just to watch her fall apart. “Eyes on me. Look at me when you come.”

Her teeth sink into her lip and her gaze goes liquid—hazy, fever-bright.

Her moan cracks me open. A fucking wounded sound, as if I’ve got my knife at her throat instead of my tongue in her pussy.

“This what you wanted?” My voice scrapes raw. “You dripping on my face, remembering how I fucked you against that altar?”

Her thighs clamp tighter. Her fingers knot in my hair.

“You kept count?” I bite the inside of her thigh—enough to make her gasp. “How many nights you touched yourself thinking about my cock inside you?”

“Kade—” Half a sob.

I suck her clit between my teeth. Not gentle. Never gentle with her.

And when she starts to fall apart—hips jerking, feet digging into my back—I keep going.

Until she’s grinding her pussy against my face, sobbing my name like it means something.

Like I mean something.

She shatters.

Hard.

Raw.

Ruined.

She’s shaking, begging me to stop. Her grip goes slack. Wet hitches.

I crawl up her body and wipe my mouth on her tank top.

“Now you remember.”

I watch the understanding hit her—this wasn’t some goodbye fuck.

This was a reckoning—my heart at her fucking feet.

She kisses me, tasting the slick mess of herself, and I nearly break.

I strip off her top. Tear away the bra. Her tits spill free—soft. Full. Perfect. My fingers splay across her stomach. “Lie back.”

Her spine hits the desk, arms loose at her sides, chest rising and falling rapidly.

I lick up her breasts. Suck one nipple like I mean it. The other’s caught between my fingers, thumb scraping over the peak.