Page 75 of Adam
My voice cracks. I don’t even know what I’m asking for. I just know I want his hands on me.
“Please … I can’t take it anymore. Just touch me.”
“You want me to touch you?” he murmurs, voice dripping heat. “Fuck, baby … if I could, you’d already be on your knees, and my fingers deep in that sweet little pussy while you beg me not to stop.”
His breath grazes my neck, and I shudder, legs trembling.
“I’d take my time with you,” he goes on, savoring every word. “But fuck, what I really want is to feel you wrapped around my cock.”
I let out a sound I don’t recognize—a moan, soft and aching, my body clenching at the thought.
“Oh, how tight you’ll be,” he growls, eyes fixed on mine in the mirror, watching every twitch, every breath. “I’ll fuck you slowly the first time, just to feel every second of it. Make you take every inch until you’re shaking.”
My knees threaten to give out. I reach for the wall, for anything to hold onto, but I can’t stop the words from spilling out.
“I want it,” I whisper, breathless. “I want you.”
He grits his teeth, jaw tight, and I can feel the restraint in him.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“I don’t care,” I moan. “I want to feel it. I want to feel you.”
He laughs under his breath. He sounds dark and fucked, barely holding it together.
“Yeah?” he murmurs. “You want me deep inside you, filling up that tight little pussy while you cry for more?”
I whimper, my hips shifting, grinding down with no rhythm.
“You’ll take it so well,” he breathes. “I’ll have you shaking and moaning before I even get inside you.” His breath drags over my neck. “You’ll be dripping down my cock, baby. So fucking needy you’ll beg me to keep going even after you come.”
My mouth falls open. My whole body tightens, my hips still grinding down the blade, feeling the climax surging through me.
“Adam—” I gasp, voice cracking, “I’m—I’m coming, oh, God?—”
His hand covers my mouth as a scream rips through me. I don’t care how loud I am. I don’t care what I sound like. All I know is the way my legs are shaking and how empty I feel without his hands on me, and how badly I still want more.
“So fuckin’ pretty when you do,” he carries on.
His hand drops from my mouth, and before I can even catch my breath, he grabs my waist and spins me to face him.
He watches me like he’s starving. Like he’s hungry for my surrender. There’s a darkness in his eyes, deeper than before, like my orgasm didn’t satisfy him.
Lifting the blade between us, he drags his tongue up the flat edge, tasting me from the metal, enjoying the aftermath of something holy and filthy at the same time.
His gaze never leaves mine.
“This,” he says quietly, flicking the tip of the knife against his tongue, “belongs to me.”
The words hit low, straight between my legs, and I’m too breathless to say a damn thing. He steps closer, eyes gleaming, and leans in until I can feel his breath on my lips.
“Next time, you’re gonna be on your knees, choking on how bad you want it.” He lifts the knife again, eyes still locked on mine, and taps the flat of the blade gently against my cheek.
His smirk curves, slow and wicked. “Now, get ready for your date,” he says, voice dripping sarcasm. “You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
Shit …
I knew one taste would fuck me up. Again …
