Page 124 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

“We don’t have to talk,” she whispered, closing her hands around his shaft. She slowly stroked his length, keeping her eyes on him as she kissed the tip.

“Delilah, you don’t—”

“I want to. Just let me do this for you.”

He softly stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek then gave a nod.

Nuzzling his flesh, she spread kisses over him. His body thickened and he stretched out his legs, leaning back and setting his arms aside, making himself comfortable. Unlike the time she’d done this to him before, this time he avoided directing her.

He had no intention of touching her and made that clear, which was fine. This was not about him, but about her. She wanted to show him that she hadn’t intentionally hurt him. That it was safe to share his vulnerable side with her. She could only express that by baring herself to him.

She wanted to show him that she could be brave too, even when it scared her. She appreciated his patience when she needed extra time. She needed him to know how much she cared without labeling her feelings with words she didn’t fully understand.

She was on her knees for him. Pleading for so many things she lacked the courage to say. Baring herself in an act of contrition so that he might fully understand how much she was willing to surrender, how deeply she cared for him.

Taking him into her mouth, she sucked him slowly, each time deepening her strokes until the swollen tip of his cock pressed to the back of her throat. She held herself there, much like he’d shown her to do before.

It wasn’t enough. She felt his extreme arousal, scented it in the air, but she also felt his lingering uncertainty. Lifting her palms from his knees, she stretched out her arms, placing the backs of her hands on the arms of his chair, wrist side up. It was meant to show no resistance. A sign of capitulation that expressed just how much she trusted him.

Her focus returned to pleasuring him as his hands closed over her wrists, pressing them firmly into the cushioned arms of the chair. Gradually, his insecurities started to wane. His hips lifted, nudging her to continue, and his mind slowly opened to her again.

She felt everything in that moment. The stretch in her muscles as he held down her arms. The hard floor beneath her knees. The throb of his veins over her tongue. The restriction of air when he pressed into her throat. The weight of his stare as he watched her service him. And his pleasure at seeing her perform such a show of supplication.

“Such a selfless display.” His grip tightened on her wrists, squeezing then loosening as she sucked him. "On your knees, beseeching my approval.” He lifted his hips, thrusting slowly to meet her efforts. “What is it you want from me, pintura? You’re pleading for something.”

At that, she lifted her head and looked up at him, her lips swollen and her arms still open and bound by his grip. There was one thing she needed to ensure her return home.

“Trust.”

His stare held hers for a long moment, then he stiffly nodded, not denying the implication that his trust had been shaken. For any of this to work, they both needed to rely on each other and understand neither of them took pleasure in hurting the other, but sometimes, even the best relationships faced moments of pain. “Finish.”

She continued to pleasure him and he took his time climaxing. When he finally came, he released her arms and gripped her shoulders tightly, his body tensing and his muscles jerking.

Only then did she realize that he’d blocked her from sharing his pleasure, but the moment he removed the block his release triggered her own. Her throat worked and her eyes teared as they finished together.

“Now look at me.”

Shaken by the intensity of what they just shared, she drew in an unsteady breath before lifting her gaze. Eyelashes damp, she looked up at him with parted lips, her arms lowering so her hands folded in her lap as she kneeled before him.

“That was a beautiful declaration of your trust, pintura.” He traced a smear of his release away with the pad of his thumb, pressing it into her mouth. She sucked the salty drop away and demurred at such praise, especially shy and delicate in that moment.

He shook his head in awe. “You’re so strong-willed, yet you yield so flawlessly when we’re intimate.”

She didn’t understand why she behaved in such a way. It wasn’t just that her submission pleased Christian. She liked the way his dominance made her feel. Safe. Cherished. And now loved.

“Say something.”

He told her not to speak and she’d listened. In that moment, silence had been exactly what they needed. But now, she owed him something more. He was ready to hear the truth. “No one’s ever said those words to me before.”