His hands snake down my hips and pull at the hem of my tights. I open my mouth to protest, but nothing escapes my lips besides a rushed gasp.
Because if I’m being brutally honest with myself, I don’t want him to stop.
Electricity spins through my body. It concentrates right between my legs. He pulls down my tights and takes my panties down with them.
To my surprise, there is no self-consciousness. It’s burned away in the heat of his hands on me, the promise of his lips against my thigh.
“Anton…”
It’s meant to be an admonishment, but it comes out in a sigh. Like I’m egging him on. He moves slowly, his eyes flitting up to my face every few seconds to make sure I’m suffering in bliss the way he wants.
I have more than enough opportunities to stop him. To push him away. To struggle. To plead with him. Anything to show him that I don’t actually want this.
But my body is betraying me. I know he can see the moisture between my lips, and he tastes it the moment his tongue lands against my slit.
I gasp as he raises one of my legs and settles it over his shoulder. He runs his tongue up and down me. I reach behind and grip the fridge for support, eyes fluttering closed. I’m vaguely aware of more items knocking around in there, but I couldn’t care less.
Then he pushes his tongue inside me, and it’s a miracle I’m still standing at all.
I’ve never been eaten out like this before. Dane wasn’t a fan of going down on me. He loved oral sex, but he hated being the giver. Whenever he agreed, it was always short-lived and half-hearted.
This… this is a world apart from anything I’ve ever experienced before.
Anton is consuming me like I’m his last meal on earth. My hands are itching to grab hold of his full head of hair. But that feels like an admission I’m not ready for. Keeping my hands to myself is one of the only small dignities I have left.
Though I’m sure he’ll rip that away from me soon enough.
Instead, I thrust myself into his face, hoping he’ll push even deeper into me. And he doesn’t disappoint. His tongue slides up to my clit and starts sucking furiously.
I’m gasping now, losing all sense of who I am and what I’m supposed to want in this scenario.
He’s a killer? Doesn’t matter.
He’s a monster? Doesn’t matter.
He’s a liar and a criminal and a bad, bad man? Doesn’t. Fucking. Matter.
“Oh God,” I moan when I feel my orgasm on the rise.
Can this really be happening so fast? It took me ages to come with Dane. Half the time, it never happened at all. He pretended to care in the beginning, but once we got comfortable with one another, he stopped trying altogether.
“You’re just too difficult, hon. I don’t have the time to make this happen for you,” he’d say. “But hey, that’s what vibrators are for, right?”
I cringe at the memory. Why the hell did I stay with him so long? Is Anton right about me? Do I just crave drama? Do I hate myself?
It is the wrong question to ask, especially with Anton’s face buried between my legs, because God knows I’m not coming up with an answer anytime soon. Definitely not when I’m teetering on the verge of orgasm, my body spasming beyond my control, so close to tumbling over that edge and coasting down in—
Then he pulls away abruptly.
I stifle a scream as I slide down the front of the fridge into a puddle on the floor, pants twisted awkwardly around my ankles.
Anton looks down at me with a self-satisfied smile.
“I’ll be back,” he tells me, knowing just how vicious this torture is. “And if I don’t get my phone then… I’m taking you instead.”