Once Upon A Killing (A Gass County Novel Book 2) by Isabell Lawless Page B

college and who didn’t.” That earned her a hard nipple pull and she suddenly noticed how much she missed sex. Not the soft caressing love making. The rough, take-me-hard, sex. “Just, do me.”
    Before he even touched a part of her, before his breath even made it close enough to her skin for her to feel it, she shuddered, goose bumps spreading like wildfire across every inch of her body. Facing the ceiling, she didn’t see, but felt, his hands slide like warm honey along her thighs, prying open her legs, until she was as splayed as the wings of a butterfly resting on a leaf soaking up the sun.
    Then she felt it. The tiniest touch from the tip of his tongue to her most secret place, and with that her hips bounced in the air, unintentionally nudging the unshaved chin of his face.
    Fireworks. That’s what she saw behind closed eyelids. Fireworks. Rough, prickly hair brushing against her softness made everything feel so much better.
    “Oh, finally there it is. My hidden prize, the one I’ve been dying to savor all night,” his breath felt cool against the heat he’d created. “Hidden away for everyone but me to see. To touch. To play with. To taste and to suckle between my lips. You might tease it when you’re alone, but right now it belongs to me. And me only.” His warm mouth settled right on her exposed clit, and when the vibration of his dark moan reached it, she gasped and grabbed the sheets beneath her. “Your fingers are not to disturb me, not to pull me in, not to push me away. My mouth wants to, no it needs to, taste this with the tip of my tongue, with the warmth of my mouth, until your breathing turns shallow, scarcely existent, until the earthquake comes, shaking you in pleasure.”
    How could he talk like that? It was like porn, but with words. Syntactic porn was what it was. Her mind twirled with anticipation of what was next. He then continued.
    “The memory of your hands scraping roughly through my hair, pulling strands, trying to push me away are things I will bring with me. But I won’t let you, so I pin your hands on top of your stomach, my strength fighting yours in this pleasure of ours. Me tasting you, you surrendering to my talent.”
    His tongue stroked her then. Long and slow, over and over, until her hands did just that. Dark strands of hair worked their way between her fingers as her mind and body didn’t know what to do with him. Have him come deeper, or push him away?
    “For each lick I give you, the more wet you become. Each tickle of my tongue brings a moan out in the still air. Each suckle of your clit brings silence to this space. The most amazing of silences. The one empty spot of your time that I possess, when the pleasure I’m giving is too much for you to take, and you’re willing your body to go on, but deep inside you scream for release.”
    Every word he expressed, her body created. His mouth was the most marvelous of mouths. There had not been any mouths like his, not even… Will’s.
    “Then the jerk, and the locking of your thighs around my head. It’s not until then I will let go of your hands. It’s not until then I will unchain my mouth from your clit. It’s not until the silence evolves into motion that I will release my face from your warmth, find your eyes, and see them glazed above those pink cheeks of yours. And when the pillow engulfs your head and the air escaping your mouth can’t relinquish words, then, and only then will I know I’ve done my job to perfection.”
    She tried to fight it, that tingling feeling creeping slowly, oh so slowly, up her spine. That burning, prickling sensation, which she knew would explode as soon as it reached her head. The silence came, the clock on the wall tick-tocked, the sound of his tongue in her wetness the only noticeable noise in the room. The more he licked, the tighter her body clenched, not only around his head, but inside itself, until she noticed she was breathing again. The residue of a scream lingered in