Page 52 of Bloody Black

It makes me feel powerful. Like he’s completely at my mercy.

“Why don’t you be in charge?” I find myself saying. Then, at the elation on his face, I immediately backtrack. “Just don’t do anything I can’t take.”

“Hm.” Robb’s eyes narrow. He scans my body, thinking of options, weighing and discarding. “There’s all manner of depraved things I’d like to do to you.”

Squaring my shoulders, I climb onto the bed and straddle him. “Perhaps you could list them.”

“How much time do you have?” His chuckle is rich and husky, its low timbre causing a tingling within me.

Robb slowly shifts his hands, running them up the outside of my thighs. Up to my hipbones. These, he holds, brushing fingertips over my skin. And then he pulls me forward, drawing my body toward his mouth.

“What?”

“You said I could lead.” He lifts me by the waist, resettling me when my knees rest on either side of his head. “Regretting that already?”

“No, but—”

“Then sit on me.” His face is completely serious. Intent. Dark and dangerous.

Oh. Er. Hm. “Won’t I smother you?”

“You’re not that heavy. And if you did, I’d die happy.” He stares up at me. “Trust me. ”

I relax slowly, not because I’m ready, but because of some primal need to please him. I settle into place, my opening directly over his mouth, and it takes every bit of courage I possess not to blush, bite my hand, or apologize and tell him that I have changed my mind.

He starts slow. Presses a kiss to me, the sweep of his tongue barely discernible. And when he focuses attention on the bundle of nerves inside, I keen softly, a little gasp of pleasure trapped in my throat.

“See? Knew you’d warm up to it.” Robb grips my hip, holding me against his mouth, while his other palm cradles his length. Stroking himself.

Which is just as well. If he handles that part, I will be less likely to panic.

He settles into a rhythm with his tongue, lavishing me, occasionally thrusting it deeply. All too quickly, he finds the angle that most pleases me, the one that makes me moan and tremble.

As he rubs slow circles over my clit, he turns his head, gently bites my inner thigh. Warm breath drifts over my skin.

Please, I order myself. Please don’t ruin this. Don’t cry. Don’t think about that night.

“Robb…” I’m pleading with him.

“Hmm?” He shifts lower, then deliberately licks me from back to front. In one slow stroke.

I bite down on my lip to keep from crying out.

“I’ve been thinking about this.” His tongue swipes over me. “All day. Every day.” Rob circles one finger around my opening, slipping it through the wetness he finds, then sucks at me. “You bent over the rail. You on the deck, you in my bed. ”

“We are naked in your bed.” I’m partly thrilled, yet also overwhelmed with disbelief.

“Any regrets?” He looks up at me from between my thighs, eyes locked with mine. He is not shy, not seeking praise. Just making sure.

“Not yet,” I say shakily, and my head falls back, eyes closing, as Rob pinches my clit and runs his tongue along my opening.

“Gods, yes!” My cry is loud and involuntary.

“You want to be loud, so everyone above knows I’m down here? With my face between your legs?”

Maybe. Maybe I want the entire crew to know exactly what I’m doing and who I’m with. The rush of lust, imagining it, makes me dizzy. My body begs for his touch. Every stroke of his tongue ratchets up the tension, tighter and tighter, and my hips arch obligingly toward his mouth.

Like he knows, Robb sinks his finger deep as he sucks my clit again. His eager tongue laps at me.

I tug at his hair. My back arches, and I ache, ache, as his teeth tease my clit. “Please…” I choke out.

“Mmmm. Say it again. My name.”

“Robb.” I’m breathless, needy, spinning.

I meet his gaze as he thrusts his tongue. It’s primal, desperate, challenging.

He increases the speed of his hand, the angle, something. “I want all of you. Everything.” He twists his finger, sucking my clit again, and I rock against him, shamelessly grinding against his face, pulling his hair as something inside me breaks free.

The orgasm is so strong I think I black out, see stars, find God.

And there’s no pain. No acidic burn, no tearing, no blood.

I forget about being self-conscious, about being abnormal, broken.

I forget that I once died, and that a demon brought me back to life with a curse wrapped around my neck so tight that I can barely breathe.

I’m… fine. I’m completely fine, and when I can open my eyes, he gives me a lopsided smile.

“That was nice,” I say, more than a little surprised.

Robb turns his head and kisses a place near my knee. “Mmm. Woman, you wound me.” He inhales deeply. “But I suppose if you insist, I shall try again. Unless you want to punish me for my failings, in which case…”

“You’re so ridiculous.” I shift myself carefully, not wanting to crush him, lying down at his side.

Robb scrubs a hand over his face, wiping his mouth. Then he rolls over, propping himself up on one elbow, studying my face. “Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

I’m not afraid of him. I haven’t panicked. Maybe it’s because I’ve saved him so many times, or because he’s already bled all over me. Maybe my brain isn’t quite working. Whatever the reason, my answering kiss is long and lingering. “I’m thinking… I want whatever else you’ll give me.”