Forbidden by Liliana Carlisle

CHAPTER 15

AMELIA

I thought I knew passion before.

Oh, how wrong I was.

I shuck out of my jeans before I can second guess myself, spreading my legs obscenely, the wet spot on my panties clearly visible.

His eyes fixate on it, his pupils so large that his irises are almost black. He drops to his knees at the foot of the bed and grips my ankles, pulling me so my bottom is near the edge.

Then he stares.

Fuck,” He hisses, licking his lips. “You smell incredible.

But an ounce of shame pulses through me as he speaks, as I realize I haven’t showered since yesterday.

As I try to voice my concerns, he stops me. “Trust me, Princess,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect.”

His hot breath looms over my panties, and I have the fight my insecurity.

I’m not perfect.

You’ll tire of me.

I’m not an Omega.

Then he tears my panties off, the fabric falling apart in his hand, and I stop thinking.

I’m exposed before him, the cool air hitting my most private place.

He growls, a deep, ancient rumble, and his mouth descends on me.

He licks thoroughly with a thick swipe of his tongue all the way up my slit. Then he rests his head against my inner thigh and just inhales.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re more delicious than I thought, Princess.” His voice is breathy, as if he’s trying to stay in control.

Then he licks again, and my vision whites out.

His tongue finds my clit easily, sucking in a deep, perfect rhythm, while my hands fly to his hair. He growls into my cunt, sending a delicious chill through my body, the vibrations already sending me close to the edge. I tug against his scalp harder than necessary, and he responds with a chuckle as I feel his finger work near my entrance.

Even one finger is thicker than I imagined. It’s as if he knows my body already; he finds the most sensitive spot inside me and works it at a perfect pace with his finger.

Stroke. Lick. Stroke. Lick.

I babble incoherently, half crying, half pleading for him to continue.

He inserts a second finger, my body stretching to accommodate him.

“You’re so tight,” he hisses, breathing hotly against my thigh. “Gonna split you open on my knot, Amelia.”

His taboo words send me into oblivion.

I scream and clamp around his fingers, thrusting against his face as I spasm uncontrollably. He works me through it the entire time, groaning as my wetness covers his face.

His knot. I want his knot.

There’s a brief sting on my inner thigh, but it only sends me farther over the edge.

It’s only after I come down from the high, soaked in sweat and spent on his bed, that I realize what happened.

He bit me.