Page 91 of Spark of Sorcery

It seems only fair to return some of the torture – or edging as he called it.

Except, I don’t have as much self control as him. I never thought I’d like to do this. But I like the way he tastes, the way he smells, how big he feels in my hand. I want him in my mouth.

I wrap my lips around his head and suck, running my fist up and down his shaft as he circles my clit.

My brain struggles to know where to focus; on the dick in my mouth or the tongue in my pussy. It flits back and forth and I’m so turned on, I know I’ll come again with little effort.

“Sweetheart,” Beaufort groans, “don’t stop.”

I jolt, realizing that’s exactly what I’d been doing, too lost in the sensations he’s creating through my body, too in love with the way he’s worshipping my pussy.

I concentrate with more focus on returning the pleasure. Swirling my tongue around his head one minute, then sucking him far back into my throat the next. He throbs against my tongue, hips jerking. He moans against my clit and I come a second time, sucking down hard on him and moaning myself as the pleasure ricochets around my body.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he grunts, coming right into my mouth. I gulp him down and his cock jerks in my mouth and then he rolls away, his soft cock, slipping from my mouth with a pop.

“Shit,” he says, lying on his back, hands combing through his long hair. “Shit!”

I scramble up onto my knees and peer down into his handsome face.

He smiles up at me and it’s more genuine, than ever before. Even a little shy.

“Fuck, we are going to have a lot of fun tonight, sweetheart.”

“We have,” I agree.

He pushes up onto his elbows.

“Have?” he says.

“This was …” I bite my lip. Hot? Dirty? Sexy? Better than anything I could ever have imagined? But I have a baby dragon waiting for me in my room. I can’t stay any longer. I already feel like a bad person. Neglecting a baby for this.

I cringe.

“You saying you didn’t enjoy it?” he scoffs with disbelief.

He is such an arrogant jerk and why is that so incredibly hot?

I need to leave before it becomes impossible to.

“I have to go.”

“No you don’t. You can stay the night.” He reaches for my hand. “I want you to stay the night, little thrall. In my bed.”

I shake my head. “I want to,” I say. “I really do.” I sigh as my gaze travels down his sinful body. “But I can’t.”

“Why?”

I reach for my discarded sweater and tug it over my head. “I can’t tell you.” I look at him earnestly because for once, I’d like it if our time together didn’t descend into an argument. “But can you trust me for once and not push this.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Please Beaufort.” I lean forward on my hands and knees and kiss his mouth. “Please.”

“Okay,” he says, although it’s obvious he’s not happy about it. “As long as it’s nothing that’s going to land you in trouble.”

“Of course not,” I say, looking away so he can’t read the lie on my face.

He lies on his bed, watching as I hunt around the room for my remaining pieces of clothing.

“Kiss me again before you leave,” he tells me, once I’m dressed.

I pad back to the bed and he sits up, embracing me in his arms and kissing me – this time slow and longingly like he wants to imprint the kiss in my memory.