Page 110 of Devil's Azalea

As he cleans up, disposing of the used materials andpacking away the rest of his tools, my gaze falls on the black titanium band on his finger. That’smybrand on him.

My clit throbs insistently, and I lick my lips, watching him with mounting impatience. He glances back at me and must see something in my expression because he goes still.

“Emilia?”

I don’t know what sexual demon possesses me, but I’m not fighting it.

Keeping my gaze on him, I unzip my dress and hike the fabric up, bunching it around my waist as I scoot back to the middle of the bed.

Then I spread my legs wide, letting him see exactly what his tattooing session has done to my underwear.

He drops the items in his hands with a clatter, not even glancing back as moves towards me almost compulsively, his gaze locked firmly between my thighs. Can he see how wet I am?

“Shit, you’re completely soaked through,” he groans as he climbs on the bed, his voice rough with desire. “Did me tattooing you do this to you?”

Every single second of it.

38

RAFAEL

My cock is hard as fuck as I make myself at home between her thighs. Every nerve in my body is firing. I drag my hand up the silky expanse of her inner thigh, my fingers burning a trail across her heated skin until I reach that perfect junction where her legs meet.

She collapses on her back on the bed with a low, breathy moan, and I wrap my arm beneath her ass, hauling her closer with the need to smell her. To drown in her. I lower my face towards her center, my eyes sliding shut as her erotic and mouth-watering scent invades my senses.

She’s a fucking dream.

I reopen my eyes, enjoying the way her wet cream lace panties cling to her. Every curve is perfectly outlined—the soft folds, the swell of her clit—and my lips part hungrily. I blow a soft breath across the damp fabric, and she jolts beneath me, making my cock strain painfully against my pants.

Christ, I’m already losing my mind and I haven’t even started.

Leaning down, I drag my lips over her lace-covered labia.The contact is feather-light, barely there, but she groans my name like I’ve just given her everything she’s ever wanted.

My tongue darts out to taste my lips, and I nearly come undone as her essence explodes across my taste buds.More. I need more.I turn my face into her inner thigh, dragging my nose down her heated flesh before pressing a kiss to her skin.

Goosebumps erupt over her body, and I don’t miss the shiver that works through her. I move to her other thigh and kiss it too, this time letting my tongue out to roll sensually against her skin.

She gasps and her hands drop to my head, her fingers massaging my scalp in a way that makes every nerve ending tingle. My balls draw up tight, and I can feel my release climbing dangerously close to the surface.

Enough teasing.

I set into her, sucking her clit into my mouth through her panties. Her cry breaks the air, splintering the fragile control I’m clinging to. With one finger, I hook the fabric and pull it aside, exposing her to my hungry gaze.

My throat tightens as I admire the weeping pink flesh I so desperately want to bury myself inside.Patience. I drag my tongue up the center of her pussy in one long, decadent stroke, lingering at her swollen clit, grazing it lightly with my teeth.

“Rafael!” Her hands fist in my hair as she arches back.

“You’re so fucking sweet,piccola. I want this dessert spread out and waiting for me on my bed every fucking night from now on.”

I don’t wait for her response before diving back in, giving her cunt a proper French kiss, my tongue lapping up the wetness in her folds greedily. Emilia babbles incoherently above me, writhing and pulling at my hair so hard it borders on pain.

The sting drags me back from the edge, sharpening myawareness, and stops me from coming in my pants like some teenager.

I flatten my tongue against her, moving slowly and deliberately, savoring her undiluted responses. Her breathy moans. The way her fingers twitch in my hair. How her body arches and pleads.

I work her to the edge then pull back, just for the sweet torture of it.

“Rafael,” she groans, tugging at my hair. “Please…”