Page 22 of Bird on a Blade (Hunter’s Heart #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EDIE
S awyer’s tongue is a miracle. He drags it over the length of my slit, slow and teasing, and then he curls it inside me and I lose track of what he’s doing because all I feel is a hot, wet pleasure.
I grab at his hair, soft and silky from the shower, and grind down on his face. He responds by wrenching my thighs open wider and sucking on something—my labia, my clit, I have no fucking idea. It makes me howl, loud enough to nearly drown out the wet, eager sounds Sawyer’s making between my legs. Nearly.
I gasp out one shuddery breath, and then I come, my whole body vibrating as Sawyer never slows his pace, his tongue and mouth guiding me through one aftershock after another. It’s almost like he wants me to keep coming forever, to be locked in an endless avalanche of pleasure.
Of course, it does subside, and I’m not surprised that Sawyer keeps going, his fingers digging deep into my outer thighs. Part of me wants to lie back and let him continue like he did that first night. Part of me, though?—
I want to return the favor.
“Sawyer,” I whisper, and he makes no sign that he’s heard me. I try again, louder. “Sawyer.”
His mouth pulls away from me, leaving a cool dampness against my pussy. When I peer down at him, he’s gazing up between the mountain of my thighs, his eyes black and glittering.
“Don’t want to stop,” he says gruffly.
I sit up and press my back against the headboard. He frowns and moves to grab me, to force me back down. And although I won’t deny the thrill that gives me, I blurt out, “I want to take a turn.”
“What?” He’s risen up between my legs, hair tousled and mouth flushed red.
“I want to—” I’ve never been good at dirty talk. Never been good at asking for what I want. It’s hard to ask for sex when your entire life people have told you that you don’t deserve it.
“Want what, baby?” He hoists himself over me, his cock grazing against my thigh. “Want me to fuck you?” He grins. “Not yet.”
“I want to suck your cock.” I blurt it out, the words bleeding together. I have to resist the urge to cover my face with my hands.
Sawyer’s expression changes instantly. The coy flirtatiousness drains away, replaced with something dark and hungry and dangerous. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Old humiliations slam through me. Every rejection rings in my ear. But Sawyer cups my face like a lover and presses his forehead against mine.
“I don’t know if I can be gentle,” he says softly, his breath blooming against my lips. “Even with your mouth.”
It doesn’t matter that I just had an absolutely earth-shattering orgasm. My pussy clenches. “Rough is fine,” I whisper.
Sawyer’s eyes widen a little. “You sure about that?”
“You were rough earlier. You bit me.”
He grins at that, teeth gleaming. “And I made you bleed, my perfect prey. ”
That little nickname should be so unnerving, but it just makes heat flood through my clit. Honestly, the same could be said for the fact that he bit me hard enough to draw blood.
I swallow my nervousness. “I trust you.”
Sawyer’s face darkens, and I see in him the killer that he is. “I don’t trust myself.” His voice is very small.
Fear shoots through my chest. But it’s a fear that’s indistinguishable from desire. I lean forward and kiss him, hard, tasting myself on his mouth. There’s the slightest hesitation from him before he returns it, his hands twisting up in my hair, pulling hard enough that my scalp stings.
“Please.” I kiss away from his mouth and along his roughly stubbled jaw. “Please. I want to.”
There’s a second’s pause, like the world is holding its breath. Or like Sawyer is holding his.
Then he slides off the bed and stands beside it, staring down at me. His cock is enormous and glistening at the tip. The sight of it makes my jaw ache.
I get on my hands and knees and crawl across the bed to him, licking my lips, eager to taste him the way he’s tasted me so many times. He doesn’t move as I wrap my lips around his cockhead. As I draw his length deeper into my mouth.
That’s when I get a reaction. A long, exhaled breath, shuddery with pleasure. He ghosts his hand over my hair, frizzy from the shower and the humidity, and I clutch at his lean thighs. I want to swallow all of him, but I don’t know if I can. Still, I do my best, pushing my mouth over his erection, pulling him deeper along my tongue. He tastes clean from the shower.
“Edie,” he breathes, his voice coming from overhead. Hearing my name on his lips like that, like it’s a prayer, sends liquid heat gushing between my legs.
I bob my head on his cock, bracing myself against his thighs, my pussy exposed to the cool air. He rocks his hips a little, thrusting deeper into my mouth, a motion that just makes me suck him harder.
His ghost-touch solidifies, and he grips my head, stilling my movement. I know now that he had been showing restraint, and I brace myself just as he begins to thrust more forcefully into my mouth. All I can do is try to be an open hole for him, jaw spread wide, tongue soft. He grunts, rutting against my face, his balls slapping against my chin, as spit drips out of the corners of my lips.
I fucking love it.
I roll my hips in time with his thrusts, desperate to be filled. I try to reach down and touch my clit but it throws me off balance, and his cock slams sideways in my mouth.
Immediately, he pulls out of me with a gasp.
“I’m s-sorry,” I sputter. “I just?—”
“On your back.”
When he says it, he doesn’t sound like Sawyer. He sounds like Sawyer Caldwell, the infamous spree killer.
And I have no choice but to obey.
I fall backward on the bed, instinctively spreading my legs. But Sawyer doesn’t mount me like I expect him to. Instead, he walks around the perimeter of the bed, eyes roving over my body, his cock bobbing with each step. I watch him, my breath shuddery, not sure what’s coming next. My body’s prepared for anything, though, given the arousal already slicking my thighs.
He stops by my head, then slides his hands under my arms and drags me backward over the bed until my head dangles off the side. He steps over me, his cock eclipsing the room’s dim light.
“I want to watch you touch yourself.” It’s an order, not a request.
I do as he asks and slide my hand between my thighs to run softly against my clit.
“Now open your mouth and let me fuck you. ”
My jaw drops open so quickly it’s like I’m not even the one in control. Sawyer grunts as he slides his cock into my mouth, filling it completely. I’m overwhelmed by him: by his smokey, woodsy scent, by his hardness, by the sharp thrusts as he uses me for his pleasure. I’m so overwhelmed that I brace both hands on the bed like I need to hold myself in place.
“I told you to touch yourself.” His voice sounds far away. “I want you to come with my dick in your mouth.”
I moan around him, my response muffled, and then begin to work my clit with my fingers in earnest, rolling it in quick, urgent circles. Heat blooms through my core—I still can’t believe how easy it is to come over and over again with him.
It’s not long before we’ve picked up our previous rhythm, and I buck against the bed, arching my back so that Sawyer can slide even more of his length into my mouth. I’m hardly aware of anything but the building pressure between my legs and his hard, choking cock.
It’s hard for me to breathe.
It’s hard for me to breathe, but I desperately do not want him to stop. His roughness courses with desperation, like he’s on the verge of shooting his cum down my throat, and I want that so badly. I want to taste him. I want to swallow him whole. With every short thrust, my own climax builds, and even though my chest feels tight and I feel dizzy and blood-rushed I’m afraid that if I take my hand away I’ll lose my pleasure.
“Edie,” he rasps, his hand pressing against either side of my head. “Fuck, Edie, you take me so well.”
His hand slides around and rubs the front of my neck. I wonder if he can feel the bulge of himself as he thrusts into me. It certainly feels like he’s that deep inside my throat.
I start to convulse, just on the burning edge of my orgasm. I rub my clit harder. I fuck the air. My thoughts blur. I need air. I’m choking. He’s choking me. I need air .
I need?—
My ecstasy swallows me in a rushing ocean wave, and then everything goes dark.