Willing (The Un 1) - Page 65

His tongue lashes at the scrapes he just created, and something clenches hard inside me.

Between my neck and my nipple, I’m not sure how much more I can take before I completely unravel and come undone.

Closing his lips around me, he pulls back one more hard suckle then pushes away.

Looming above me, his eyes shining with a feral gleam, he growls, “Your god will not dare to take what’s mine.”

A gasp is all I can get out before he’s on me again. His hungry mouth finding the breast not gripped in his hand.

The intensity of having his mouth pull and suckle on my nipple isn’t nearly as bad as what I felt when he was on my neck, but it’s still enough to make me wiggle and squirm.

My core filling with an uncomfortable pressure.

Dragging his mouth downward, he kisses a wet trail down my stomach. Stopping once he reaches the waistband of my leggings.

Lingering there, his eyes flick up, caressing against mine, taunting me with the offer of oblivion.

I want the oblivion so bad my mouth waters at the temptation.

Grinning as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, he releases my breast and shreds my leggings and panties.

Like my shirt and bra, he cuts them to pieces easily and tosses them away.

Firmly grabbing my knees, he spreads me wide open.

“There it is,” he says triumphantly, attention zeroing in on my thigh.

On the little red mark in the shape of a figure eight.

A mark I’ve tried to cut and burn from my flesh to no avail in desperation.

Making a low, feral noise in his throat, he asks, “Did you really try to cut me out of your body?”

Well, I suppose that answers that question. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but he is in my head, and he can read my thoughts.

Dammit.

Clamping my lips together, I refuse to answer.

He makes the vicious noise again, and in an attempt to protect myself, knowing what’s to come, I try to slam my knees together.

He pries them back open easily, but before he can touch my mark, my back is coming off the bed, my hands grabbing at his hands.

Moving in a blur, I’m slammed back down, all the air bursting from me in gasp.

Yanking my leg and body toward him, he grips my thigh in a death grip.

A grip I have no hope of breaking.

I can only watch in helplessness as his head dips.

Mouth latching onto my mark, he pulls back a hard suckle.

My world explodes.

Every color I’ve ever known, ever seen, flashes in front of my eyes. Every good feeling I’ve ever felt, every pleasure, every joy, roars to life.

Roaring to be heard at once.

The exact opposite of oblivion, I hear myself screaming.

Screaming his name.

Until he releases me and I plummet back to earth.

Licking his lips, the tip of his pink tongue drags slowly across them, relishing the taste of me.

I take one, two deep breaths.

“You should have never tried to cut me out, Chloe,” he says, mouth glistening. “Consider this your punishment.”

Then he’s on me again. Sucking on my mark. Trying to pull my soul through my flesh.

And almost succeeding.

Screaming, twisting, writhing, the pleasure is extreme and agonizing.

It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Even what I experienced in the shower when I touched myself is nothing in comparison.

It’s a never-ending mental orgasm that defies explanation.

When he finally releases me, I’m boneless. Covered in sweat. Wheezing for air. My throat raw and pussy soaking wet.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he purrs and lowers my leg enough to slink forward. “The most beautiful woman ever created.”

Shoving his face between my thighs, I feel his mouth cover me, his tongue finding my too-sensitive clit. The tip flicking against it.

And fucking delicious, he purrs in my head.

Still recovering from the trauma he inflicted with my mark, I jerk my hips away from him with another cry.

Mercy, I mentally beg.

I need mercy. Please.

Gripping me firmly, he yanks me back to his mouth. There will be no more mercy tonight, my love.

Using the last of my strength to reach down, I try to push his head away.

In retaliation, he sucks hard.

Causing all the blood to rush down from my head.

Fingers digging into the meat of my thighs, his mouth attacks me.

Lips, tongue, and teeth working together to strip away the last of my modesty. The last of my sanity.

Stripping away everything else until nothing else exists.

There is only his tongue lapping and dragging across my folds.

His lips clamping around and sucking on my clit.

The points of his fangs teasing me with the threat of pain.

His face rubbing against me until my hips grind back.

The hunger for a physical release reawakens.

And before I know it, I’m that woman in the vampire club.

Head thrown back, breasts heaving, my fingers grip his hair. Holding him close to me. Unwilling to let him stop or get away.

Tags: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty The Un Fantasy
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