Risqué by Elena M. Reyes
13
“Iwant it.”
“That’s my good girl.” The fingers on her collarbone travel lower, just to the edge of her top, and slip beneath the soft fabric. Not low, but just under the trim while my eyes watch her every reaction. Those sweet brown eyes close for a brief second, her lips parting on a sigh while a lovely vibration runs through every limb. “Thank you for the honor.”
“Christ, I love your accent,” she whines after a minute or two, not liking my standstill position on her skin. “It’s quickly becoming a weakness.”
“Is it, now?” My lips are at her temple, leaving tiny open-mouthed kisses on my way to her neck, inhaling deep to brand my lungs with her scent. I pause at her ear, though, nipping the sensitive flesh there, and enjoy the sight of goose bumps rising—the way her body arches into my touch. “Even coming from a bastard who has no right to want something so pure.”
“You’re not a bastard.”
My rough exhale against her neck makes her whimper. “I’ve done things with these hands, Aliana.” With a painful slowness, I caress the swell of her right breast and then the left. Once, twice—moving lower with each pass. “I’ve worn my enemies’ blood with pride, my Venus, and yet, nothing would give me more pleasure than a single taste of the sweetness between your thighs. The need is near maddening.”
“I feel this...” she trails off, but there’s no fear in her eyes. No disgust. If anything, they become darker. Heavy-lidded. “Callum, this is—”
“Did that make you change your mind?” I know she hasn’t. It’s there in the way she keeps her hold on my other hand tight. How she’s making sure there isn’t a single inch of space between her side and my body. “Do you want me to move?”
“No,” she hisses out; the urgency in her tone would shock anyone else, but not me. Not when I understand it. Not when I feel it too—just as much if not more—and have accepted whatever consequences come from this.
I’ll take on the world just to feel her like this. To have her laid out like the perfect meal.
This between us is fast and unpredictable, but palpable and real. And I want it.
All of it. Her.
“Then relax for me, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.”
“Please, Callum. I dreamed of you last night and—’’ I cut her off, taking her lips in a hungry kiss while positioning myself to hover above her. Her thigh’s part, lifting a bit to urge me closer while I maintain my distance. I’m not going to fuck her today. I’d never do that to her when I’m getting on a plane tomorrow night; she’ll be safer here until things settle down in London.
Then, I’m going to bring her home.
I’m going to make her my queen.
She releases a little mewl from the back of her throat, so much like the one a short while ago by her front door, and I can’t control the rumbled groan that builds in my chest. It’s deep and almost angry, spilling between her lips when I press mine a little harder. I take her mouth with every bit of the passion that’s been building since the day I saw her on Casper’s screen, while a hand slips beneath her head to grip long, soft tresses. The tighter my hold, the more she arches into me, swiping her tongue across mine in a sensual cadence that I throb to.
My cock jerks, seeking out her warmth, and fuck me—I want to take. To leave her a dirty mess, but not today. Today will be about her.
Next time…
I’ll be selfish.
Pulling my mouth from hers, I sit back and grip the bottom of her top, nearly ripping it in my haste to take it off. Her tits spill out, giving a small jiggle from the movement while the fabric lands somewhere on the floor. They’re perky. More than a handful of perfection that sit high on her chest while the pebbled tips tighten further under my heated gaze.
I don’t touch them for now, turning my focus to the next offending obstacle: her shorts.
I’m rough in my need to see all of her. The fabric gives a small groan, splitting on the right side while my hands drag them down shapely thighs and off the end of her feet where they’ll lay in tatters.
“Son of a bitch,” I hiss out, the sight of her bare and so wet is almost too much. It brings forth a haze of lust I can’t control. Every molecule in my DNA throbs within me; I’m hard while my mouth salivates—desires to catch the drops of wetness sliding from her tiny entrance and down toward her arse. “I’m going to taste you, sweet girl,” I groan, licking my bottom lip while flicking my eyes from her cunt to her sultry brown eyes. “Not a single inch of you will be left untouched. You will never forget the feel of my tongue or the bite of my teeth. How hard I made you come.”
“Callum, please. Please touch me.” Her cry settles on the tip of my cock like a shock of electricity, and I give in. My mouth brutally reclaims hers. Teeth clashing, tongues intertwining, but it’s the sting of her teeth embedding into my bottom lip that breaks the last of my resolve.
I pull back, gripping her neck while I trace a path down her chest with my tongue. Loving the skin, leaving little indents of my teeth until I reach her right nipple and nuzzle it. It’s soft; the perfect little dusky rose bead against my skin, but it feels better between my lips.
Suckling, I squeeze her left breast, weigh it in my palm before pinching the tip. It throbs under the harsh treatment, but my girl only moans, thighs trying to pull me in against her slick heat.
Aliana flushes, the tantalizing pink growing from her cheeks to the swell of each breast, and I smirk against her warm flesh.
Releasing her, I move across from one tip to the other. Bite. Lick. Sucking hard enough to sting before pulling back. “How sensitive are you, my Venus?” Not that I give her a chance to answer, testing her limits myself with one sharp smack to the slope of each breast, catching her nipples.
And the immediate scream that follows isn’t of pain, but of need. Of want.
Her muscles lock, a hiss catching between small teeth before beads of sweat begin to spread. I lick the path from her sternum to belly button, savoring each salty drop before tugging at the small piercing there with my teeth.
Aliana hisses, while I smirk. “Something wrong, Miss Rubens?”
“Yes.”
“Then speak.” Another bite, this time on the area between her abdomen and mound. There I pause, resting my chin while she squirms. Trembles for me. And while she gathers her thoughts, vocalizes her needs, I begin to trace the lines of a beautiful tattoo adorning the space/skin from hip to just below her breast with a tip of a finger.
It’s a black and grey vine curving along her skin, its thorns embedding in her flesh while roses bloom where each puncture would be. They grow from the representation of blood, hers, giving life to each flower that grows in the same color. Vibrant reds in different tones, yet striking against her lightly tanned complexion.
“Enchanting.” I follow my digit with my lips and tongue, tracing from the top to bottom and then nipping her hip. Her scent is so sweet, decadent, and I inhale deeply. “You’re a treasure worth savoring, Aliana. Worshipping.”
A gasp escapes her, hips rising off the bed. An offering. A silent demand to touch where she needs me most.
My eyes leave hers. Slowly, I take in her hard nipples, the contracting of her flat stomach, and then the way her hands clench at her sides, gripping the sheet tight. The fine mist of her sweat, wetness, and that mind-fucking smell of peaches is all around me. Enhanced. Drowning me.
But nothing. Not a bloody thing compares to the pink of her cunt and the wetness that clings to her bare lips when I settle right over it. My breathing is hard, every muscle tight.
Aliana whines, the sound almost angry before slim fingers grip my hair. She pulls, forcing my eyes from her pussy to her face. “No more waiting. I need—”
“Only me,” I growl before my lips graze her clit. The soft touch makes her shake, nearly pulling my hair from its root, but I pay no mind. She could leave bald spots for all I care. All that matters is the softness, her natural scent, and the hungriness in which I lick her from tiny entrance to clit, sucking the small bundle of nerves between my teeth as a deep groan reverberates through every inch of me.
One taste. A barely there touch.
I’m gone.
I feel like an animal salivating over its prey, and I feast on her like one too.
Nothing about the way I eat her cunt is gentle or sweet; I give into every baser instinct.
“Oh God. So good.” Her moan is like lightning to my senses. It settles over my flesh and spreads before snapping against the tip of my hardness. I can feel each bead of pre-come as it stains my trousers with each jerk against the fabric. No underpants. Nothing but a single piece of clothing is keeping me from her slick heat. “Never…good…more.”
Each word is a choked breath, her hips rolling against my mouth in search of more. And I give it to her because it’s my duty to do so. With the flat of my tongue, I part her lips and catch the rush of wetness that seeps from her entrance in a nirvanic rivulet.
“Son of a bitch,” I snarl against her swollen flesh, my tongue working her harder. I’m lost to her taste while slipping a finger inside to the first knuckle. Christ, she’s tight. Her walls are snug around my digit, clenching to pull me in deeper, but I don’t.
I keep my strokes shallow. Just caressing her entrance.
However, my lips suck her clit harshly, and I’m rewarded with the shaking of her thighs on either side of my head while her back arches off the mattress. Her hands are no longer in my hair but gripping her breasts, squeezing the firm globes while undulating against me.
My finger slips in deeper and then out, alternating between the suckling of her clit and labia. Her juices coat my mouth and chin, her tight walls begging for my cock while I finger fuck her with precise pumps that rub against that beautiful little patch of rough flesh that swells with each touch.
“Come for me, Venus. Feed me what is mine.”
“I’m close.” Aliana pinches her nipples, but it’s not hard enough. Not how I would.
I push them off her tits. “Hands up and don’t move them, love.”
“Callum, please. Just…oh fuck!” she screams out as I squeeze a nipple, pulling on the tip while my teeth scrape across her trembling bundle. It throbs, swells against my harsh licks and alternate sucks—her wetness seeping onto my wrist, but it’s the next time I bury two fingers deep and press against her spot that she loses control.
Aliana’s muscles contract, orgasm slamming into her with force as her eyes roll back and mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. Instead, I’m rewarded with the sight of her lost in pleasure and her natural saccharine sweetness on my tongue.
I don’t stop eating her until she calms and a satiated smile curves her lips. And even then, I take a few more licks before crawling up her body while leaving tiny kisses on her exposed, sensitive skin. Lip caught between her teeth, Aliana welcomes me and then moves without hesitation to cuddle into my chest when I lie facing up. My arms go around her, my lips at the crown of her head, and I find myself wanting this for more than today.
Yes, we need to talk and discuss our relationship.
Yes, she needs to meet the people I’m leaving to watch over her.
However, what I do is close my eyes and relax with her tucked in close. We’ll get up in a minute or twenty, I’ll order in dinner for us, but first I need her like this, so supple and warm and letting out a content sigh each time my hands rub up and down her back.
It further cements that we aren’t done. Not having this is something my male instincts rebel against.
If Casper doesn’t speak up, I will.
He needs to be here with Aurora, and I need my Venus home in London and standing to my right.