Kiss Before Dying(4)

“More,” he demanded, thrusting. “I don’t like to be teased.”

It was difficult taking his length, even though I wanted to. As much as I tried to press my mouth down his cock, he was simply too long to sheathe completely. I sucked harder to compensate, brushing my tongue against the underside of the crown.

“That’s it,” he groaned, rocking his hips and going deeper into my throat. “Just like that. Worship my cock with those glorious lips and that wicked little tongue. Get me hard, Arianna. Get me ready.”

I moaned, wetter and wetter by the second. My pussy clenched, panties now drenched. His ragged inhalations told me he was enjoying my attempt to bring him pleasure. His thrusts turned forceful, a glorious rocking. I pictured him gliding his cock in and out of my sex in exactly the same way, using long, hard thrusts. He was strong but gentle, insistent but patient.

“I’m going to come.” His voice was throaty. He sounded precariously close to losing control. “Your mouth feels so good, so hot and wet. Suck me, sweet. Suck me hard.”

I moaned again, vocal cords sending vibrations up my throat. He must have felt them against his cock. He groaned loudly, gliding past my lips, bringing my head forward as his pelvis bucked against me. As the motions increased in intensity I sucked harder, wanting to taste him, to know what it meant to belong to him.

His. I would finally be his.

“Take it all.” His muscles went tight, hard thighs flexing. “Suck me dry.”

I wasn’t fully prepared for his climax and nearly choked. Thick, salty seed poured into my mouth, torrents of semen coating my tongue. I opened my throat and swallowed, breathing through my nose, steadily drinking him down. I continued even when he stopped moving, worshiping him in the only way I could until he tugged my head back.

“Enough,” he ordered, moving away.

Sebastian removed the last of his clothing, shucking out of his slacks, shoes and socks. He lifted me from my knees, swept me into his arms and carried me across the short distance to the bed.

He settled me atop the pillows so that I was upright and started removing my clothing—shoes first then garters. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Completely breathtaking.”

“No more than any other, sire.” I gasped, unnerved by his fingers tickling a path down my thighs. He removed my hose, bringing the thin material down my legs, taking his time. His fingers played against my skin, creating a chorus of sensation.

“Even more so,” he said and paused to gaze up at me with his luminous sapphire eyes. “I wonder why you agreed to share my bed. How could you? Knowing you’ll never return from it.”

Another part of the façade was pretending to be born into slavery, and I answered evenly, gazing into his eyes. “My death will enrich the lives of my family. It’s an honor to serve you.”

He looked away then, tracing circular designs with his fingers along my calf. “So you’re doing this for your family?”

No. I wasn’t. But I couldn’t tell him that so I nodded.

“I see,” he said and moved up my body, his chest brushing against mine. He settled his shoulders between my outspread legs, forcing them to part. His fingers brushed against the outside of my pussy in a lover’s caress and a new wave of electricity shot through my spine, radiating throughout me. Wetness soaked the area between my legs, coating my sex with pure molten fire and need.

“Silky smooth,” he growled, fingering my tender slit. Sex slaves were always waxed before they entered the bed, and while it had hurt to have it done the reward of his guttural voice made it all worthwhile.

“Oh God,” I whimpered, arching my back and feeding my aching core into his palm. He knew precisely what to do, using his fingers to part my labia, pushing his thumb against my hammering clit.

“So wet, so incredibly hot and liquid. But are you equally as sweet, Arianna? Do you taste just as good?”

I stopped breathing, grasping his meaning. He refused to look away, vivid sapphire eyes studying me as his face lowered. His tongue flicked and tasted me for the first time. I cried out, unable to remain still. Grinning up at me, he licked again, this time long and deep, parting the lips of my pussy.

“More than sweet,” he groaned. “You are delectable.”

Grasping my hips, he pulled me closer and lowered his eyes. I couldn’t silence my cries, fisting the red satin sheets as he tongued, licked and sucked my sex. He rotated between bathing my outer lips and then moved inward, tonguing me deeply before licking me gently. When I couldn’t take it anymore—as that pinnacle of release beckoned for the first time in my twenty-seven years of existence—I begged him mindlessly not to stop.