“But not now?” I ask, sounding like nothing more than a desperate whore.
He chuckles, standing back up straight and denying me of any more torment from his maddening tongue.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he lifts his palm and runs his tongue up the length of the cut and then wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pushing his tongue into my mouth and letting me taste his blood.
“Oh God,” I whimper.
This shouldn’t be so good.
I should be disgusted, appalled. But all I can think about is getting more of him.
I lick deep into his mouth, my hands slipping up his shirt before I drag my nails down his abs, making him growl into our kiss.
“Need you, Angel. Need your fucking mouth on me.”
Everything south of my waist clenches in desire at the image his words paint in my head.
Ripping his lips from mine, he stares deep into my eyes, his fingers twisting in my hair until it starts to burn.
“Get on your knees, Angel.”
I gasp as I hit the hard floor beneath me and come to a stop directly in front of the massive tent in his trousers.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” he barks, dragging me closer, forcing me to rub my nose up the length of him.
My mouth waters and my pussy clenches at the thought of tasting him again, of feeling him at the back of my throat.
“Angel,” he groans, causing a wave of power to rush through me.
He’s such an enigma in our group. The one no one really knows how to take, how to handle. He’s dangerous, brutal, terrifying. And yet here he is, totally at my mercy.
Reaching for his waistband, I make quick work of getting it open and dragging both his trousers and boxers down over his hips.
I might have seen him before, but still, that doesn’t stop me sucking in a shocked breath at the size of him, along with that silver piercing that seems to call to me.
Is that why he felt so good?
No. That was our connection. As unlikely as it is, something magical seems to happen when we collide, and I’m quickly becoming addicted to these stolen moments he keeps springing on me.
“Fuck,” he barks when I wrap my fingers around the base of him and lick the tip. The taste of his precum floods my mouth, and it only serves to make me hungrier for him.
“Not so scary now, huh?” I mutter, looking up at him through my lashes.
The sight of his abandoned knife not far from his feet catches my eyes.
Ideas float around my head, ideas that I’m sure he would love.
The sadistic fuck seems addicted to a good helping of pain.
Suddenly, the stories I’ve been horrified by that Stella and Emmie have happily told me seem to make more sense.
I bite on my bottom lip as I wonder if I’d be able to go through with it. Marking him in such a permanent way.
Claiming him.
The thought makes my heart rate turn damn near dangerous.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking right now,” he says, reaching to grab my chin and forcing my eyes back up to his, “don’t forget about it.”