Page 11 of His To Erase

This is insane. What am I doing?

His hands are holding me open now—spreading my thighs like I belong to him.

And the way he’s licking me?

God.

Every flick of his tongue is a brand. Every slow, punishing stroke is him saying mine without needing to speak.

And I am fucking here for it. I hate how much I love it, and I hate the way my hips rock forward, chasing every flicker of pressure like I’m starving for it. He’s wrecked me with nothing but his mouth.

Then he pulls back. Just for a breath, long enough to blow against my soaked cunt and I nearly come undone.

"Already shaking," he murmurs, voice dark and wrecked and way too fucking satisfied.

"I’ve barely even started."

I’m going to kill him. Right after I come.

I grit my teeth, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Then maybe get on with it and stop narrating.”

The bastard chuckles like this is a game and watching me unravel is the whole fucking point. I’ll have to analyze that later, when I can think clearly.

"Shh."

It’s barely a whisper. But his grip tightens, then he licks—a slow, maddening slide up my thigh that makes every nerve in my body seize like I’ve been set on fire.

"You should be watching the door, sweetheart."

His voice is dark, pure fucking arrogance, laced with something even worse—certainty. As if he knows I’m about to open my mouth and say something, he cuts off my thoughts.

"You don’t want anyone catching you like this, do you?"

Heat floods my veins, a violent mix of rage, desire, and humiliation.

I bite down on my lip, hard, pulse hammering, but even just that thought of someone walking by has my eyes snapping toward the end of the aisle and locked on the door.

A slow hum of satisfaction rolls from his chest, vibrating against my core, his tongue dragging exactly where I need it.

"Good girl."

No, fuck him. What was that, and why did my entire existence just melt for him with two words.

He keeps me pinned and helpless beneath the weight of his hands. I’m gone as soon as his tongue drags across my cunt with a slow, deliberate stroke from my clit to my entrance. It’s fucking devastating.

His grip on my thighs tightens, forcing them wider, pressing bruises into my skin as he dives back in.

No hesitation. No teasing. Just filthy, raw fucking hunger.

I gasp, dropping my head back onto who knows what. My fingers claw at the rungs of the ladder as he devours me, as his tongue laps through my arousal, circling my clit in a way that makes my knees shake.

I don’t even realize I’m grinding against his mouth until his hands slide further up, gripping my hips, pinning me down like he’s keeping me exactly where he fucking wants me.

"I knew you’d taste like this," he growls against my pussy, voice hoarse.

I whimper, hating the way heat licks through me like wildfire at his words. His tongue is punishing me for something, sending sharp, electric pleasure down my spine.

My body shudders, completely at his mercy. My eyes drift closed, as the tension builds.

"The door."

The order is a growl, low and devastating, while his fingers dig into my thighs like a warning.

I suck in a sharp breath, rage curling into something just as dark, and just as dangerous.

Without hesitation he presses one finger into my entrance, making me feel every inch of him.

Then comes the second finger, his knuckles flush against me before I even have the chance to catch my breath.

A sharp, aching stretch, as my body pulses around him, struggling to stay still.

I have no time to think. No time to fight the way my body reacts instantly, greedily, taking what he gives like it was made for this. For the unbearable sensation of being pried open, and claimed. His touch branding me like a tattoo.

When he curls his fingers, brushing against the spot that has my breath shattering—I swear he smiles as he adds another finger.

I can only whimper—a raw sound I barely recognize as my own.

"Fuck, you’re tight."

My body clenches around him, involuntary and desperate. I need more friction.

His fingers press deeper, pumping in and out in a slow rhythm. "Bet you’d let me ruin you right here."

A silent curse spills from my lips, while my body is being ripped apart at the seams. Yes, yes sir, I almost certainly would.

"You’re fucking soaked, for me sweetheart," he growls against my skin, the heat of his breath sending a fresh wave of humiliation and desire rolling through me.

I hate him.

Or I just hate that he’s still fucking teasing me, drawing slow, torturous circles with his tongue, drinking in every reaction like I belong to him.

And I hate that in this moment, I do.

A strangled sound slips from my throat as he flicks his tongue against my clit, and it’s fucking devastating. I jerk against him, helpless to the way my body spirals under his mouth, his hands, his fucking dominance.

"That’s it."

His voice is low and taunting, dripping with dark amusement, he’s so fucking cocky it makes my pussy throb. Clearly, she’s just been neglected for too long.

My thighs shake against his grip, his tongue is relentless. His lips seal around my clit, sucking just enough to make my pulse stutter violently.

Fuck.

A wrecked, helpless moan spills from my throat, loud and needy. His fingers dig into my skin, keeping me right where he wants me.

I bow, my back arching, my hips pushing into his mouth as pleasure crashes through me like a fucking tidal wave.

It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

My entire body clenches, my pussy pulses as my orgasm slams into me, consuming me.

I gasp, my vision turns hazy as the world tilts. My knees threaten to give out, and the way his hands are digging into my thighs tells me it’s the only thing keeping me upright.

And still—he doesn’t stop.

"Fuck—"

His teeth scrape, his tongue flicks, dragging me through it, pushing me higher, stretching my release into something unbearable, something violent.

Another moan rips free and his hand snaps up, one clamping over my mouth as he keeps fucking devouring me, the other still knuckle deep in my pussy, pumping in and out, keeping me locked in place.

“Be quiet.”

The command slices through the haze, but his palm stays clamped over my mouth as I shatter against him—every ragged sob of pleasure swallowed by his hand.

He groans against me like I’m his favorite fucking meal, his tongue is relentless as he wrings every last drop of release from me, licking me through it like he’s savoring a goddamn victory.

It’s not until I’m shaking apart, ruined and breathless, does he finally pull back. But he doesn’t go far.

His breath ghosts over my overstimulated pussy, like he’s wondering if he can break me completely—just because he fucking can. And at this point I’m not sure I’d stop him.

Clearly, I’m not in my right mind.

He chuckles, low and smug, soaked in satisfaction.

"Told you."

His fingers drag up the inside of my thighs, slow and possessive, spreading the mess he made of me across my skin like a fucking brand.

"You like playing with fire."

Then, with his eyes still locked on mine, he licks his fingers clean.

The bastard doesn’t even blink.

My skin still tingles where his mouth was.

I should feel used.

Instead, I feel cracked open. And he didn’t even have to try.