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My face feels warm from what he did to me, and when he scoops a dollop of the lemon butter onto his finger, pleasure stirs me to a puddle.
I instantly wrap my mouth around the tip, sucking the sweet, citrus flavours, moaning.
His eyes darken and he steps backward, leaning against the opposite counter, his gaze never leaving me. “Eat.”
I look down and see the hard, long length between his legs even through his pants. I know how big that is. How thick and hard. In the Silk House, when I imagined the male anatomy, I always considered it would be… tender.
I lick the butter from the top of the muffin, and it pulses in his pants. Shit.
When I had the thick head inside my mouth, it throbbed like that heart I fed Odio. I didn’t know that they moved on their own.
I thought they were, well, fragile.
Nothing fragile about his…
“Stop looking at me like that, little creature. You don’t know what you’re asking for with those big, fuck-me eyes.”
I snap my gaze back to his, finding an expression, dark and frightening.
Using the muffin to redirect my mind, I eat it. It’s good. Tart and sweet and dense, filling.
He watches me enjoy it
Too soon, I take the last bite and lick the doughy residue off each finger, feeling better now that my stomach isn’t empty.
“Is it unbearably heavy…?” I ask, glances at it again. “When it’s like that?”
It unsettles me how still he is at this moment.
“You want to know what my cock feels like while I watch you lick that muffin and then suck your fingers?” His voice strains. “When your little tongue comes out and laps at that butter, my cock throbs like a wound. I can feel my arteries pounding, the pulse is thunder between my ears.” He reaches down and palms his large bulge curving up between his hips. “It feels like my blood is literally boiling.”
He pushes off the counter and possesses the column of my throat. “Like your throat right now. Thump. Thump.”
I whimper, because he’s hot and close and threatening, but I’m not afraid. Without meaning to, I relax into the tight collar he makes with his hand. He dips, his lips meeting my ear, heavy breath rushing into my hair. “But the pain I felt inside my cock while I was licking your wet pussy was worse. Much worse. That was the sweetest agony of my life.”
The question dances on my tongue; will you come to me later tonight? I’ll stare at my veil and pretend I don’t recognise your deep groans, scent, possessive touch.
I open my mouth to ask when he reaches for my cloak. “Time to go back to your room. The Guard will be awake soon. We can’t have him reporting this.”