Page 83 of Vicious Butterfly
Tate’s tongue teases along the crease of my lips as if he’s trying to find the sneaky way in. I tease him back, making like I’ll part them, give him admission, but I don’t. The frustration pours off him until it reaches his limit, and his hand digs into my hair, close to my scalp in a death grip.
I cry out. He seizes the opportunity, his tongue barging in, wrapping around mine. His lips turn up into a victory smile against mine briefly, before he fucking devours me. A long guttural moan of relief rumbles from somewhere deep inside him as if it really has been torture without me. I answer it with violent tongue tangling, sucking, trying to get closer.
The only thing I don’t do is touch him, no matter how badly I want to. My fingers itch and ache to glide along his slick skin. I’dlove to sink my palm inside his shirt and explore that scar I saw. Instead, I glue my hands to the marble, kissing him back with the same unhinged intensity.
But I’m not letting him get away without my mark on him this time. I bite down on his lip. Hard. He barely flinches, but blood spills into my mouth, mixing with saliva. I’m making him part of me this time.
“Did you really miss me?” I murmur between mauling his mouth.
“Every second, dollface. Did you miss me?” His free hand slides under the waistband of my sweats, rubbing my cock over top of my cotton boxers.
I missed him every second, too. But I’m not telling him that. His ego’s already big enough. “I?—”
“You did. I know you did.”
See?
“You arrogant sonuva—mmph.”
He plunges his tongue in again, as if it’s the first time, as if he’s already missed kissing me for that short exchange.
“Lemme … Please lemme touch you, Tate.”
His body stiffens. He takes a long inhale. Slowly, he nods. What happened to him? I wonder when I should tell him that he can’t actually tie me down, ever. It’s probably fucking odd that I like it when he threatens to chain me up. It’s kinda like saying I wanna keep you forever. So long as he never does it.
Or I don’t know. Maybe I could work up to it. Now that would be some level of trust I’ve never known.
Tate cinches his fingers tighter, threatening to separate my hair from my scalp. I hold out my hand, and he circles my wrist with his free one, placing it on his wet skin. My eyes flutter closed. I soak him in. The heat, the soft skin, the pounding of his heartbeat. Okay, maybe there’s something to that heartbeat thing.
I love touching him, and when I can feel him like this, we’re connected on a level that transcends everything.
“Do you remember what I said I would do to you the next time I saw you?”
“S-Suck my cock.”
“Mm-hmm. Lie back.”
As I do, I glide my fingers up his abdomen and over his chest, refusing to relinquish contact until the last possible second. He removes my shoes and socks and then rips my sweats and boxers off, tossing them somewhere. The cool air hits my naked skin. He places my bare feet wide on the chilly black marble, so I’m fully exposed.
He removes the blood-stained shirt carefully, handling it by the collar, I guess so he doesn’t get his hands dirty. Then his fingers tickle the sensitive skin between my crease and around my balls. A shiver like lightning rockets up my spine.
“This is how you should be displayed next to Pearl.”
“Tate! Oh, god.” I don’t get the chance to appropriately blast him for that shit. He engulfs my cock with his mouth. There’s hot and wet and mind-melting arousal. A lone finger enters me, slick with the saliva dripping from his mouth.
“My hands are cleaned and sanitized,” he says.
I slap my palm on the marble, reduced to a writhing mess on his mouth and one damn finger. A strangled noise breaks the silence. Me. How does he do this to me every time? Blood races in my veins, carrying violent adrenaline. Lighting me up, making me high.
He might be the one giving head, but I know he’s turned on. I’m not in this little room of toys by coincidence. He wanted me here, his toy of all toys, in its place with the other toys. Him giving it—me—pleasure.
“Does it make you hard, sucking my cock with Pearl over there?” I’m breathing hard, my words come out all hitched and pitchy.
A low, animalistic growl hums from his chest.That’s a yes.His teeth scrape up my shaft, tongue swirling the head, and he reaches for my hand. I lace our fingers together and fall victim to my own words. I’m here on a marble pedestal of my own, fully owned, falling apart.
I come so hard, I feel my cock throb as it releases into his mouth. I squeeze his hand with mine, clenching around his finger that’s still fucking into me, heightening every sensation, sending added jolts of overwhelming pleasure through me.
He’s way too fucking good at this.
