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Amari leans into me, pressing his lips against my nose, then my cheek, and this time I don’t wince. I can’t take the torture anymore. When his lips move from my cheek, I tilt my head up and steal a kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into me.

He grins against my lips, but only for a moment before taking control.

His mouth claims mine in a kiss so deep, so consuming that I forget where we are, who we are.

His tongue slides against mine, tasting me, exploring me.

One hand cradles the back of my head while the other presses against my lower back, pulling me flush against him.

The kiss is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced—passionate, tender, possessive all at once. It’s not just physical; it’s like he’s pouring his soul into me, telling me without words how much he wants me, needs me. My knees buckle, but his arm tightens around my waist, lifting me effortlessly.

“Carla,” he breathes against my lips, my name soft on his tongue.

I’m so lost in the kiss that I don’t realize he’s carried me out of the bathroom until I feel the soft mattress beneath my back.

Amari rips the towel from my body and climbs on top of me, never breaking the kiss.

His hands frame my face, his body pressing me into the bed as his mouth worships mine with such devotion that I have to break away to gasp for air.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” he says, his voice rough with desire. “You’re a siren, and your body sings to my heart and mind. I’m bewitched, caught under your spell.”

He pulls back to stare into my eyes with such hunger, such intensity that my breath catches. There’s something wild in his gaze, an obsession, a deep, dark craving that should frighten me but instead makes me feel powerful, desired, unstoppable.

“Carla,” he says, his voice suddenly vulnerable, “will you let me make love to you? I know even I am not worthy of a woman like you, but the honor...”

I grip his face and pull his lips back to mine. “Yes,” I whisper against his mouth, “yes, I want you too.”

Something inside him snaps at my words. His control slips, and he comes unhinged in the most beautiful way.

His mouth crashes down on mine, no longer gentle but desperate, hungry.

His hands are everywhere at once—in my hair, on my breasts, gripping my hips.

He kisses me until I’m breathless, then moves to my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones.

When he reaches my breasts, he groans like a man starved.

He cups them in his hands, kneading gently before lowering his head to take one nipple into his mouth.

The wet heat of his tongue sends electricity coursing through me, and I arch up into him, seeking more.

He sucks, licks, teases one breast then moves to the other, giving it equal focus.

“Perfect,” he murmurs against my skin. “So fucking perfect.”

He pushes my breasts together, taking both nipples into his mouth at once, and I cry out at the sensation, my hands flying to his head, holding him to me. I’ve never felt anything like this—never imagined pleasure could be so intense, so overwhelming.

After what feels like hours of sweet torture, he moves lower, trailing kisses down my stomach, dipping his tongue into my navel. His hands grip my thighs, spreading them wide as he settles between my legs. But then he stops, just staring at me with an expression I can’t quite read.

I look up, wondering what he’s doing. “What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“Please don’t tell me you shaved for that asshole,” he says, his voice edged with jealousy.

“Shut up,” I snap. “What are you doing?”

A slow, predatory smile spreads across his face. “Claiming my prize.”

Before I can respond, he swipes his tongue against my pussy, and my head falls back as I gasp, arching my back at the unexpected sensation.

The feeling is so intense, so new that I can barely process it.

His tongue moves again, circling my clit before flattening against me, and stars explode behind my eyes.

I try to scoot back, overwhelmed by the intensity, but his hands grip my thighs, pulling me firmly back against his mouth.

He devours me like a man possessed, licking, sucking, thrusting his tongue in and out.

He makes obscene noises as he feasts on me, smooching and humming against my most sensitive flesh.

The pleasure builds and builds, a mounting tension that I’ve never experienced before.

My hands fist in the sheets, my back arching off the bed as he continues his relentless assault.

Just when I think I can’t take anymore, when I’m sure I’ll shatter from the sheer pleasure of it, he sucks my clit into his mouth, and I explode.

I scream, my whole body convulsing as waves of ecstasy crash over me. My hands fly to my hair, then my face, as I pant like I’ve run a marathon. My legs shake uncontrollably, but Amari doesn’t stop. He keeps eating my pussy through my orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until it borders on pain.

Finally, he pulls his head back, his eyes closed, a serene smile on his face. His fangs flash as he grins, his beard glistening with my juices.

“You even taste like peaches,” he moans, “so sweet, so good.”

“Amari,” I gasp, barely able to form his name.

He pushes my legs open wider; his mouth and beard covered in my wetness. “More,” he growls, his eyes dark with hunger. “I want more.”

Then he dives back into my pussy, and I scream as the pleasure begins to build again, even more intense than before.