Twisted Together - Winters Pepper - Страница 43
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My entire body rippled. I gasped as a rush of lust intoxicated me. All I could focus on was his mouth—his stupefying, scrumptious mouth.
I blinked again. What’s happening to me?
All I wanted was his lips on mine—his tongue licking and desiring.
His jaw held tiny droplets, his naked chest spangling with grey and silver rainbows. I became hypnotised by a teardrop running down his abs.
Those abs!
His tattoo came to life as inked sparrows ruffled their feathers, darting free from the swirling clouds and barbwire.
I couldn’t look away, completely enthralled by the magic Q performed. How did he do that?
Something firm and controlling pinched my chin, guiding my eyes up, up. I locked onto Q’s gaze, sighing heavily. How could one person carry so much?
“Pain and need and love and confusion,” I whispered. His soul reached through his jade eyes, drenching me with everything he lived with.
I bit my lip, jolting at the shock of how smooth my mouth was, how tasty the bathwater was on my tongue.
Desire unfurled faster and faster in my belly.
Q frowned, impossibly making him more roguish and handsome. “Tess…? How do you feel?”
How did I feel? Amazing. Lusty. Powerful. Consumed.
I stretched again, arching my back as water lapped around my body. I wanted to moan with how good I felt. I’d never been so warm or contended or horny.
My eyes snapped to Q’s. Him. I had to have him.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured.
Q froze, his eyes searching mine. Slowly, his lips turned up into half a smile.
I pressed my thighs together. I couldn’t stop my body from overheating and needing. I’d been cursed or charmed—some sort of potion lived inside. I had no other explanation for how much I needed him.
I laughed, throwing myself headfirst into whatever spell I was trapped in. My voice fell from my mouth, tinkling and chiming like a bell. Was that truly me? I sounded magical. I sounded like a princess straight from a storybook.
Who was I? Sleeping Beauty who’d been woken by her prince?
My eyes locked onto Q’s. No. I was the one who’d fallen head over heels for a beast who spoke in foreign tongues.
Tongue.
A flush of heat and wetness built between my legs. I would give anything to have his tongue on me. I wanted his head between my thighs. I wanted his fingers clawing at my hips. I wanted to be used, bruised, adored.
Q cocked his head, chuckling under his breath. “I think Franco miscalculated the dose.”
I shook my head. I didn’t understand. All I understood was his voice had the power to make me come. The deep tenor vibrated through my heart, sending tiny orgasms exploding in my veins.
I needed to be touched. I needed to be kissed.
Kiss him. Let him know.
Launching upright, I splashed a wave over the tub. Q jerked back, but wasn’t fast enough. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I dragged him down toward me. His hand slipped on the rim, plunging his arms into the water, landing on either side of my body.
His mouth opened to curse, but I swallowed whatever he said. My lips stole his, and the moment I tasted him, I went a little mad.
My core squeezed with delirium, demanding to be filled. My eyes rolled back at the sheer bliss of kissing.
He tasted like freedom and violence and pain.
Pain…
A slight hiccup in my magical world before the cloud in my brain smothered it with need. Yes, I wanted pain. I wanted his roughness. I wanted his whips and chains and feral love. I wanted him inside me.
“Esclave…wait…” Q tried to speak, but he only gave me the opportunity to slink my tongue into his mouth. Joy bounced and fizzed in my heart, demanding more.
I moaned, dragging him closer. My hands dug into his hair, tugging with sharp-laced desire. His mouth opened, either in shock or passion—I didn’t hesitate. I thrust my tongue deeper into his mouth, willingly drowning myself in all things Q.
I wanted to cry at the deliciousness of the kiss. His lips. His heat. The silky, satiny wetness. The scorching, sizzling heatness.
Oh, God. My core burned; my heart fireworked in my chest.
Q groaned as I bit his bottom lip. I wasn’t gentle, bruising his lips with mine, dropping my hands from his hair to his face, holding his sculptured cheekbones, rasping my fingers on his stubble. I wanted to consume him.
His tongue lashed out, licking, teasing. His body leaned closer, pushing me further into the water. His hands on either side of me fisted, prodding my sensitive sides.
I moaned. My heart no longer existed in my chest. My entire ribcage was full of nymphs and pixies all casting spells, spreading their lustful dust.
“Q…” I needed his touch. I needed his mark. I needed so, so much.
His lips pressed harder, bringing smoothness along with roughness from his five o’ clock shadow. His head tilted to kiss me deeper; my lips burned with a glorious rash from his mouth on mine.
I never wanted the kiss to end.
But Q pulled away.
I wanted to cry. I never wanted to leave this enchantment.
His fingers cupped my jaw, holding me steady. Rockets and gunpowder detonated where he touched. My vision coated with a haze of amethyst and plum. Shades upon shades of purple. My favourite colour.
“You’re high,” he whispered.
If he meant feeling the best I’d ever felt, then I agreed. I was on a kite, soaring high, higher, embracing the sun and making the stars my home.
I shook my head. “High on you.” I craned my neck, seeking his lips. Tears tickled my spine at being denied a kiss. “Kiss me. Q…I want you so much.”
His eyes hooded, filling with lustful smoke. “You do?”
I laughed at the absurd notion that I wouldn’t. I’d ride him for the rest of my life if I could. I’d glue my mouth to his so the only way to survive was to feed off each other.
I shivered in need so painful, even the water was a deadly tease. “So much.” Unlatching his fingers from my jaw, I guided his hand to my breast. I arched, pressing every inch of me into his palm. “You’re holding my heart as well as my flesh. Q—please. I want you inside me.”
His fingers stiffened around my breast, pressing delicate tissue.
God, that felt good. Too good. My blood became a highway, speeding along with sparklers, setting powder-kegs ready to burst.
His teeth clenched; his grip released me, then tightened. He looked torn. Confused. At war.
He can’t deny me. I wouldn’t survive it.
Needing to share the magic, I murmured, “I want you so much I can’t breathe. I hate this water because I wish it was you around me, in me. I’m wet for you. I’m drenched for your fingers and tongue. Love me. Q—please…”
Q squeezed his eyes. “Fuck.” His forehead furrowed as his large body shuddered. He tugged his hand from my breast, fighting me when I tried to keep him close. With an angry twist, he tore his palm away, breathing hard.
His gaze opened. “Vachement tentant.” So fucking tempting.” He shook his head, his lips pursed with restraint. “I can’t. Not when you’re high. I didn’t think it would be this bad. I just wanted something—I wanted you to enjoy it—to teach you how you used to love it.”
His hand suddenly swished through the water, cupping my pussy. His face distorted as he pushed a finger unapologetically into me.
God, yes. I screamed with sublime joy. My muscles clamped around him.
“Goddammit, esclave. You’re so damn wet. And now I won’t know if it’s because of your need for me, or what I’ve made you swallow.”
My hips bucked as he removed his finger. “It’s for you. All for you,” I panted.
His face twisted; fear crept into his eyes. “You do remember what happened before…don’t you?” His touch landed on my jaw again, wrenching my face to meet his. “Tell me—what do you remember?”
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