UP IN FLAMES

His finger moved lower and she tensed. “When did you get it done?”

She closed her eyes and clamped her lips together, wishing she could just grab his head and put his mouth to better use. “Alaric.”

“Tell me when.” His finger traveled up the inside of her thigh, stopping just below her heat. “How old were you?”

The bastard was relentless. Her skin burned and her body pulsed with yearning. “I was eighteen,” she bit out. “Happy?”

“Yes.” He cupped her between the thighs, covering her throbbing center. “Happy?”

Her back bowed as her hips immediately pushed against his hand. “Getting there…”

“Hmm.” He pressed a kiss to the crease of her thigh as he rotated his palm, eliciting a throaty moan from her. “Drunk or sober?”

“What?” she gasped.

He pressed his palm against her. “Were you drunk or sober when you got the tattoo?”

She wanted to refuse him, but then he lifted his hand. Cool air brushed her and she muttered a curse. Alaric laughed. “I was a little drunk,” she admitted, and was rewarded with a long finger trailing down her swollen folds. “Oh God…”

“A little drunk? Like you’re a little wet right now?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Something like that.”

“The rose looks familiar to me,” he said casually, just as he slipped his finger inside her tightness. “What is it from?”

Vanessa arched, sucking in a deep breath. He slowly moved his finger in and out as he pressed against the bundle of nerves. Her whole body trembled and her breasts strained upward. He added another finger, stretching her. “Damn, you’re so tight.”

Every part of her felt incredibly taut, as if she were seconds from bursting. Her stomach quivered and fine darts of pleasure zinged through her. Her release coiled deep inside her, drawing her body into one fine point.

Then he stopped, withdrawing those wonderful fingers. “Vanessa?”

Her eyes opened into slits. He stared back at her, mischief in his smile but a dark hunger in his eyes. He would drag this on until she went crazy and he’d love every second of it. But she couldn’t take the sublime aching any longer.

“It’s the rose from Beauty and the Beast,” she admitted.

“What?”

“You know? The rose that wilts and is enchanted?” She let her head fall back and closed her eyes. “It was my favorite movie as a kid and I was drunk one night. Ended up with the tattoo.”

Silence stretched out to the point that she feared he’d grown bored with this game, but the next second she felt his warm breath moving over her and her entire body tensed.

Then he kissed her where she ached so badly. A strangled cry left her lips, heightened with one sinfully deep swipe of his tongue. Intense pleasure bloomed as he continued to lick her, slipping deep inside and then coming out, circling the sensitive nub above. Then he slid a finger into her and he clasped down on her clit, matching the thrusts of his fingers to his mouth.

Never had Vanessa felt something so intense as this. Pressure clamped down on her, dragging her under. She desperately fought her response, but her hips twitched and then she was thrusting against his skilled hand and mouth shamelessly, her head moving to and fro as her breath quickened in her chest.

“Let go,” he urged hotly. “Just let go and let me please you. Let go.”

Each pull of his mouth caused her to cry out. With her hands bound, she couldn’t grasp onto anything, couldn’t center herself in the midst of the sharp waves of pleasure. She was absolutely helpless to him and to the desires ravaging her body. He inserted another finger and his teeth scraped her sensitive flesh and then she did let go.

Vanessa exploded. The tension unraveled so quickly inside her that she screamed out his name as spasms racked her body. She shattered and flew apart, shaken to the core as her release showered sparks through her. He rode her out through it all, wringing every rolling crest of pleasure from her.

Only when she’d sunk back into the mattress, boneless and breathless, did he stop. Pressing a kiss to her inner thigh and then below her navel, he rose up, taking her mouth. The taste of him and her was like being intoxicated.

God, she hoped she didn’t end up with a tattoo of a singing teacup by the end of the night.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

Alaric smoothed his palm up her side, cupping her breast. “Beautiful,” he said, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “You’re absolutely beautiful when you lose control, V.”

————

After an orgasm, Vanessa was like a contented kitten instead of the tigress ready to rip into him with her sharp claws. She relaxed against him for a few moments while he regained control of himself. He was about to lose it without taking his jeans off.

Never had he been so fucking turned on while giving a woman pleasure. He was so aroused that it was actually painful, but he forced himself to lay beside her, idly brushing his thumb over the rosy pink peak of her breast. He liked her nipples and her breasts and the way she tasted like honey on his lips and how she plumped her lips and…

Hell, he just liked her.

But “like” was a weak word

to describe the way his heart was pounding in his chest like a jackhammer. Leaning over her, he kissed the tip of her breast. He smiled when she shuddered and then sighed. Lifting his stare, he let his gaze travel over her face. It had to be one of the rarest moments when she looked absolutely relaxed, lips parted and eyes closed. Thick, dark lashes fanned her cheeks. He wasn’t waxing poetic bullshit, earlier. To him, she was absolutely beautiful.

Her lashes fluttered open. “That was…”

“Amazing?” He arched a brow. “I know.”

A soft, tinkling laugh came from her, and there was a spasm somewhere near his chest. “Your modesty is amazing.”

He smiled.

She struggled to rise as her arms were still tied behind her back. He started to set her free, but her words stopped him. “What about you?”

Both brows rose. “What about me?”

Her gaze dropped to where a bulge strained against his pants and she wet her lips. His cock jerked in response.