He kept the thrusts of his fingers slow and consistent, careful not to overstimulate, chafe, or scare her so much she completely shut down. He could finally taste her arousal, the crisp, intoxicating tang of it telling him her body was reacting.
When her hips lifted toward his mouth, that tiny reflex compelled him to move in closer and sink deeper. He was spiraling, falling, and fucking God, he didn’t want it to end.
Where did his infatuation with this woman come from? Somehow, she’d reached straight into his chest and dug up something so vital and needy there was no turning back.
His entire body shook with ravenous energy, his hips grinding against the mattress, breaths panting, and hands clenching so tightly his fingers imprinted on her legs. Nothing compared to this. To her. Just the feel of her satiny flesh against his lips drove him to madness.
Time ceased to exist as he kissed her cunt the way he burned to kiss her mouth, as he devoured her soaked flesh until his jaw wore out, as he gorged on her again and again. Now that he accepted this indomitable attraction, he was possessed with it. Ensnared. He would never quit.
Eventually, he lowered her spread legs, let her tired muscles relax, and flexed his stiff fingers. She sagged onto the mattress, boneless and breathless, too exhausted to fight.
With her thighs resting on his shoulders, his hands were free to roam. He caressed her slender hips, her high round breasts, every part of her he could reach, and all the while, his tongue continued to worship her cunt.
He fucking loved her body, especially her tits and the perfect way they fit his hands when he palmed them. He curled a thumb over a nipple, tormenting the taut bud as she rocked her head on the pillow and gulped for air.
But she still wasn’t with him. Amid her husky moans snapped the cutting words of no and stop and hate you, reminding him she didn’t want this.
He needed her to want this. In fact, his need for her to want this became the most important thing in the world.
“Kate.” Her name scraped from somewhere deep and echoed outside of him like a prayer in an empty church. “Let go.”
Her glistening gaze crept down the length of her body and landed on his. When their eyes met, it was a connection so welcome it trembled through his chest.
Shifting his mouth to her clit, he flicked his tongue. Drew the nub between his lips. Sucked gently. And never looked away.
That was when he sensed it. The shattered sigh she couldn’t hold in. The softening in her bones and muscles. The tiny twitches along her inner thighs. The reluctant longing in her expression.
Her crumbling resistance.
He finally had her.Under duress, a woman would do whatever she could to cope with the pain and justify its cause. Kate could endure physical abuse and all its malicious faces, and she had, many times over. But this? She had no defenses against Tiago’s gentle manipulations.
The blade of his tongue ravished her relentlessly, weakening her willpower. The suction of his mouth was cruel in its devotion and so damn pleasurable her eyes blotted with wet stars.
She would die if she didn’t come soon.
She would hate herself if she did.
But she might not have a choice. Not with her clit caught between those wicked lips as he suckled and tortured and plotted her ruination.
“Stop.” Her chin quivered, and she twisted her arms in the rope, too bone-tired to put up a real fight. “Enough.”
The wound beside his eye twitched with the flex of his jaw. It was a reminder that even he had weak moments, that he could be hurt, that he could bleed, just like other people.
All thought vanished as his tongue knifed between her legs, slicing from her pussy to her ass and spearing both holes. His mouth was hot enough to melt iron and tenacious enough to liquefy every ring of muscle he kissed, loosening every opening he violated, and consuming her with one. Simple. Lick.
Don’t come.
Don’t come.
Everything below her waist felt like warm butter—soft, wet, melted, and gooey. He’d reduced her to a throbbing puddle of lust, and at this point, he could fuck her without resistance. There would be no reflexive tensing, no self-preservation. Her body was enervated, wide open, soaked to the needy core, and humiliatingly primed for him.
Frenzied sparks of electricity swept through her nerve endings, replacing her torment with a passion that answered his.
Good God, he had never-ending passion. Every time he touched her, fevered energy rolled off him and caught her up in the surge. With her arms bound above her, she could only lay there and absorb the frantic caresses of his lips, the trembling reverence in his hands, and the intensity in his dark wolfish eyes.