The Pawn (Endgame #1)(37)

“Right here,” he says, voice as dark as the room. “I’m going to taste you right here, feeling your clit against my tongue, fucking you with my mouth until you cry. Do you want that, little virgin?”

I know the right answer, not only because he wants me to say it. Because I want him to do those things. I want to live. “Yes, sir.”

He bends his head.

The first touch of his lips to my clit makes me jump. Only his large hands holding my hips keep me steady as he nibbles his way around my clit. He dips lower, a few large licks over my sex that have my toes curling against the wood.

“You don’t taste sweet,” he says, pausing. “You taste like I’m fucking dying and you’re the only water around. You taste like goddamn air.”

He puts his lips back on my sex, and I can’t help the shrill scream that escapes me. God, what is he doing to me? I thought he might want me tonight—maybe we’d have dinner, some semblance of a date. Maybe he would come to my bedroom. I never expected to be caught in the library, to be spread open on the steps of a hand-carved staircase.

Every stroke of his tongue brings me higher, winds me tighter, until I’m rocking imperceptibly into his mouth. Little grunts escape me, matching the animalistic need in the air. I’m pushing against some cliff, held back by a barrier I don’t understand, I can’t name. I had an orgasm before, by my own hand, but this feels entirely different—a strange and uncontrollable beast.

I get close with a sharp whimper, and he slows his tongue, sliding down to my lips and back up again. My hand grasps his hair, pulling him where I need him. “Please.”

“Do I need to tie you down?” he says, his voice thick. “I’d love to do that, little virgin. Remember what I said about fighting me.”

“You’d enjoy it too much,” I whisper, moving my elbows back to the stairs.

“Mhmm, and for that you’ll have to wait. You’ll have to wait until I’m done.”

I groan because I’m right there, standing on the precipice, something sharp pressed into the breach. All I need is a few more glorious touches of his tongue. I’ll burst. I know I will.

He pushes up from his kneeling position and pulls off his clothes. He’s just as efficient, as unceremonial, as he was for mine. They’re only fabric in the way of what he wants, shed quickly. Then he’s standing there like some magnificent statue, like David, completely unselfconscious. Unlike David, though, his private part juts out from his body.

He puts his fist around it. “Have you ever sucked a cock?”

I shake my head. “No, sir.”

“Ever touched one?”

“No.”

With his other hand, he grasps my hair and tilts my face up. “Have you ever seen a cock, little virgin?”

My eyes grow wide as I fight his hold on me. He tightens his fist in my hair until I squeak. “No, sir. I haven’t.”

“You’re going to taste mine tonight, understand?”

One of his knees drops to the stairs near my elbow. He leans close, the tip of his cock an inch away from my lips. He pauses there, waiting. For what? I realize he wants me to meet him that final inch. He wants me to take control in this way—and I do, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to the slick tip of his cock.

I hear his breath catch. “More, little virgin.”

My tongue swipes the tip, the same way I felt his mouth on my clit.

He lets out a rough groan. “You’re going to kill me.”

There’s wetness inside my mouth that came from him. It’s thick and salty. “You taste like the sea.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, grasping my hair. This time he doesn’t wait for me to meet him. Instead he holds me steady as his hips cant forward, pressing his cock into my mouth. He pushes past my lips, past the tip of my tongue, until my mouth feels unbearably full of him.

“You okay?” he says on a rough breath.

I look up at him and nod, my mouth still full.

Then he pushes forward, more than I thought was possible. The blunt end of his cock fills my throat, and my eyes water. My body fights him, trying to push him out of where he doesn’t belong. He pulls back all on his own before thrusting in again.

His mouth on me felt invasive, but it’s nothing like this. I’m pinned to the stairs by the thick length of him, made to taste him, breathe him. As he pulls back, the ridge of him swipes over my tongue, and a small spurt lands in my mouth. I roll it around my tongue like it’s fine wine, as if I can sense what he’s made of by the flavor of his sex. It’s as complex as he is, as impenetrable and sharp.

He shoves back inside before I can fully drink it down, and I swallow almost around him. He gives a hard sound of pleasure. “I want to be all the way inside,” he mutters, sounding conflicted.

He isn’t all the way inside? God, he would spear me to my core. I make a mumbling sound of panic, trying to shake my head with his hard length holding me still.

His laugh is unsteady. “I’ll go easy on you.”

If this is easy, I can’t imagine what hard would be.

His hips find a pattern, the same one he teased me with on my clit. He pushes inside me, deep enough to feel my throat, before pulling out again. I get lost in the steadiness of it, like a ship being moved by the waves. There’s no controlling it, no fighting. The only thing left to do is ride them. I let myself be tossed forward and back, pushed and pulled. Used.