Page 112 of Glutton for Punishment

My hand slides down my stomach toward my thighs, and he catches my wrist without looking at it, pulling it back to the mattress. A small, mortifying sound breaks out of me as he deprives me of touch. I immediately wish I could take it back.

His restraint shatters. He descends, a sudden and ravenous shift that makes my back arch off the bed. My thighs are hauled over his shoulders, the position exposing me completely to the ruthless assault of his tongue.

The first rough swipe is a shock of wet heat against my clit. A finger circles my entrance, teasing the swollen rim before pushing slowly inward. At the same moment, his mouth closes over my sensitive nub, sucking hard.

The dual sensation unravels me. Stars burst behind my eyelids as my body convulses around his finger, involuntarily clenching. He doesn’t pause. As the last tremor shakes me, his tongue drags down through the slickness, lapping at my release with a desperate, starving intensity that ignites the pressure all over again.

“You're so wet for me, Arwen. You taste better than I could have ever imagined,” he murmurs, the words half-lost against my skin. Rocking against his face, I tighten my fingers in his hair, pressing him closer.

His hands find the backs of my thighs as he lifts me up. I grab for his shoulders as he pivots and brings us both down onto the bed, resettling me higher up his body.

“Ride my face, baby.” His lips brush the inside of my thigh with the words. “Use my tongue. Do it again for me.”

He draws my hips up and forward. His tongue spears up inside me, and my hand shoots out for the headboard. The grip on my hips tightens, guiding, until my body understands what he wants from it.

Using the headboard for balance, I rock against him, chasing the rhythm until I hit the perfect spot each time. My thighs are trembling on either side of his face as my pussy squeezes around his tongue, desperate to have it deeper.

My free hand drops and finds my clit, two fingers working tight circles. A fingertip traces the curve of my backside, moving in between my cheeks. My breath catches, hips stuttering to a stop.

“Relax,” he whispers, the word warm against my inner thigh. I exhale and let my fingers move again. The tingling sensation of his fingertip circling my asshole, building the pressure. I’m so drenched, I slide against his face easily.

The circling doesn’t stop, a maddening touch that coaxes my body to open. My hips buck against his mouth, losing all rhythm, all thought as the pressure drives me right to the edge.

When the tip of his finger breaches that tight resistance, a silent, seizing shock locks my spine at the fullness. A broken sound tears from my throat as my body seizes, a raw, unraveling clench that milks the intrusion. My thighs tremble violently where they bracket his head as the waves dull.

His hands steady my trembling body and pull me down beside him. I notice distantly that I’m still bare while he hasn’t lost a single piece of clothing. My fingers drift toward his waistband, and he catches them gently.

“Not tonight.” His lips brush my ear. “Let me take care of you.”

The warmth of him around me and the slow unraveling of the last hour make it easy not to push back. He tucks me closer, his breath steady and warm against my temple.

“I’m going to spoil you rotten, bonded.”

Chapter 32

Arwen

The helicopter blades thunder over our heads, whipping my hair across my face.

Maddox catches my cheeks between his palms, hands warm and rough against skin still chilled from the morning ride to the academy.

“Stay under the radar,” he says, dark eyes pinning mine with that infuriating intensity only he can manage. “For once in your life, bite your tongue and don’t rise to their bait.”

I snort. “You’re one to talk.”

His thumbs brush beneath my eyes as the teasing fades from his face. I run my hands up the side of his neck over the intricate design of his skull and rune tattoos. I wish I could stay in this moment. Remain in his arms and trace them.

“Focus on your training,” he murmurs. “Work on control. Keep your head down. Let me deal with the rest.”

As if the rest isn’t a full-blown civil war brewing in Gluttony.

The words are a knot in my throat. “Your ‘ everything’s fine’ face needs work.” I manage.A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You better be.” I shove at his chest. “Because you are going to be seriously behind in homework, and as you tutor, I’m going to demand overtime.”

He huffs a laugh, letting me spy one of those rare smiles one more time.

“That mouth,” he mutters before bending to press a kiss to my forehead.