Page 46 of Beneath Scarred Vows

I gasp at the contact, my hips jerking involuntarily. He smiles and licks his finger.

"Relax," he says, and leans in and kisses my thigh with his warm lips. "I've got you."

His lips trail up my thigh, leaving a path of electricity in their wake. I tangle my fingers in the sheets, bracing myself for what's coming. No one has ever done this to me before. I've imagined it, sure, but imagination pales compared to the reality of Ares Kastaris between my legs, his breath hot against my skin.

When his tongue finally makes contact with my center, I nearly float off the bed. His hands grip my hips, holding me firmly in place as he does a long, slow lick from my entrance to my clit.

My back arches and a moan escapes my lips. It's overwhelming, the sensation too much and not enough all at once.

"Oh God," I say, my head falling back against the pillows.

"Does my wife like that?"

Before I can respond, his mouth is on me again, his tongue circling my clit. Heat coils low in my belly, building with each lick of his tongue. I can hear myself making sounds I've never made before—little whimpers and moans that show the world how good this feels.

"Ares," I gasp as he sucks gently on my clit. "Please..."

He hums against me, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through my core. My thighs tremble against his shoulders.

"You taste so fucking good," he murmurs, his hot breath tickling my sensitive flesh. "Better than I imagined."

The thought of him imagining this—imagining me—sends another rush of wetness between my legs. He groans, dipping his tongue lower to gather it up.

"You've been thinking about this?" I manage to ask, my voice breathy and strained.

He stops for a moment, and I regret asking him anything that makes the pleasure stop. "Yes, for longer than I'd like to admit."

He lowers his head again, and this time when his tongue finds my clit, it's with lustful fire.

He works me with his mouth like he's memorizing every inch of me, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me moan. When he focuses on a particularly sensitive spot, I cry out, my hand flying to his head, fingers gripping his hair this time.

"There," I pant. "Right there. Don't stop."

Ares doesn't need to be told twice. He licks firm circles around my clit while his hands slide beneath me to grip my ass, lifting me slightly to give him better access.

The pressure builds with each pass of his tongue, and I feel like I'm going to burst. I'm close—so very close.

And as if he can sense it, his tongue moves quicker, circling my most sensitive spot before he sucks it between his lips.

He slides a finger inside me, then two, curving them upward to press against a spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

His hands push me toward the edge, and once his fingers work with his tongue—I shatter.

"Ares!" I cry out.

Pleasure crashes through me in waves, radiating outward from my core to the tips of my toes. My thighs clamp around his head as I ride out the orgasm, but he doesn't stop, working me through it until I'm trembling and oversensitive.

Finally, when I think I can't take anymore, he pulls away, planting a gentle kiss on my inner thigh. He rises and looks at me, his eyes full of dark satisfaction.

"That," he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "is just the beginning of what I want to do to you."

I lie there, motionless and trying to catch my breath, while looking up at him. I smile.

"Jesus, that was amazing."

He looks at me for a long moment and then smiles.

"You're beautiful when you come. I want to see it again."