Captured(Devil's Blaze MC 1)(13)

“Are you Catholic, Beth?” he whispers again, and his lips touch the side of my neck placing soft, teasing kisses.

“My family is.” I gasp as I feel his teeth pinch the skin, then his tongue brushes away the sting.

“Were you raised by nuns?” he asks, sucking on the skin he’s been toying with. I go to the tips of my toes and lean into him, wanting more. My hands find his thick, muscled arms to cling to.

“What? No. Sister Puterbaugh is a teacher…”

His tongue slides to my ear, tasting my skin and sending pleasure through my system. He sucks the lobe of my ear into his mouth next, using his tongue to tease me further. My eyes close as my head falls back, giving him more access. My fingers bite desperately into his arms now because without that hold, I fear my legs will give out.

“Do you remember everything you are taught in school?”

I try to concentrate on his words, but his other hand has pulled on the fabric of my dress. Cool air hits my thighs and his fingers dance over the rim of my lace panties. Chills explode over my skin.

“What?” I ask again, losing myself in the feel of his fingers against my skin.

They slide under my panties. His fingers dive into my center and the wet heat that has pooled. He doesn’t do anything else. He just keeps his hand there, cupping me. It feels as if he’s claiming that part of me. Branding it as his… with just his solid touch. I never let anyone touch me there before. Right now, I think I might die if he stops. His fingers slide through my lips, separating them and gathering the moisture he finds there. I can feel my cheeks heat up in reaction and I finally release a breath, my nails biting into his skin. The sound is ragged and winded. My heart beats harder against my chest and my entire body feels flushed.

“You’re wet for me, Beth.”

I swallow and bite my lip to keep from moaning. “We shouldn’t do this,” I tell him even when I don’t want him to stop.

“We’re going to do this and much more, Beth. I’m going to teach you how much fun sinning can be, querida…”

“I can’t… I have to be back at school before… before lunch is over…” I moan as one of his fingers pushes into me.

“I’m going to have you for lunch,” he says, and then his lips take over mine.

Before Skull, I’ve kissed a total of two people in my life. When I was nine, Thomas Slone pulled my pigtails on the playground and chased me. When he caught up with me, he shoved me down on the ground and kissed me. The other was before I got sick. I was a sophomore in high school and my roommate had a date with Ted, a boy who went to a reform facility. Our school invited several over for a coed dance. Well, when I say she had a date, I really mean they were going to sneak under the gym bleachers away from the ever-watchful eyes of the sisters. He was experienced. Rose wasn’t. That’s where I came in. She and I were each other’s first real French kiss. It did nothing for me. Rose apparently liked it because she’s had four girlfriends since then.

This kiss from Skull is different than our first. The first was good, but this one is meant to seduce and destroy my defenses. It’s also totally doing the job. I never want him to stop what he is doing to me. Ever.

His tongue pushes into my mouth at the same time his finger slides through my wet depths. He hones in on my swollen clit and I moan into his mouth. My body feels weightless. Skull’s tongue swirls in my mouth, dancing with mine in the same sweet movements with which he’s teasing between my legs. I’ve touched myself a few times, mostly before I got sick, but nothing I ever did made me feel like this.

When he pulls away from me, my lips follow him, still needing his. He ignores my silent plea, instead going back to nibble on my shoulder and neck.

“You kiss much better than Rose,” I whisper inanely.

Skull’s body tenses for a minute and then I can feel his lips curl into a smile against my neck.

“Rose, querida?”

“Rosemarie Crespin. She was my roommate at SPH,” I explain, trying to position my body to get his fingers to move back where I want them. He, unfortunately, ignores that silent plea too.

“Odd,” he whispers, finally bringing his fingers back to my pussy, petting me gently. I clamp down tight over his hand and moan at the friction that vibrates from my clit. My hips buck as I try to ride his hand, needing the orgasm he’s begun inside of me.

“Odd?” I question, trying to keep up with the conversation, but my word ends with a frustrated growl as his hand latches onto my hip and he stops me from moving.

“From any other woman, the idea of you kissing another female would have me hard and demanding I watch. I find my jealousy will not even allow another woman to touch your lips. They are mine now, sweet Beth. Just as the rest of you is. I’ll show you when we get back to my club and then, and only then, will I allow you to come. So stop trying to ride my hand before I have to spank you.”