Page 40 of Wicked Dove (Institute Thirteen #1)

The desire to ask him why is on the tip of my tongue, but I would hate it if someone called out my trauma like that. So, I fight against my curiosity, tamping another thing down. Parting my lips, I try to find the right words to say, but he speaks first.

“Unless it’s that pretty pussy of yours. I’d kiss that.” I roll my eyes at him, unable to hide the grin on my face as I shake my head at him. He shuffles to the end of his bed, thighs spread as he stares at me. “Do you realize how intoxicating you are?”

“You’re ridiculous,” I say with a sigh, and he grins.

“No, your scent is,” he rasps, and my eyebrows rise in surprise.

“My scent,” I repeat, dumbfounded, and he shrugs.

“Wolf, remember?” He curls his finger at me, and like the puppet I am, I float to him.

The moment I’m close enough, he grabs my waist and circles his tongue around my belly button.

Holy fuck.

“Rion,” I breathe, and he grins, peering up at me through his lashes.

“Get back on the bed, Petal.”

My heart thunders in my chest, uncertainty warring inside of me, but it’s futile. I step out of his hold to climb back on the bed, not requiring any more encouragement. Only this time, I nestle myself in the center, my head snuggled between the pillows and my legs bent at the knees.

He slowly crawls toward me, eliminating the space between us until he’s nestled between my thighs.

His nose ghosts over my core as breathes me in.

I’m still in an oversized tee and panties from last night, and as he moves, he inches the t-shirt up until the slight chill in the air ghosts over my exposed breasts.

His head is next to follow as he continues to trace over my skin, all the way from my core, around my belly button, between the valley of my breasts, and up the curve of my neck.

My back arches up off the bed as he goes, desperately seeking more as he brushes over my cheek. The desire to kiss him is real, but I refrain, remembering his warning.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he whispers, and I snap my gaze to his.

Before I can even ask what look he’s referring to, he’s on his way back down again, inhaling my scent with every deep breath he takes, making my skin prickle.

This time, when he reaches my pussy again, he swirls the tip of his nose around my clit as he peppers the lightest kisses against my panties.

My thighs clench around his face, and I remember the last time he brought me pleasure, but the reminder makes me pause.

He rakes his teeth over my panties, but before he can slip a finger beneath the fabric, I place my hand on his shoulder.

“Rion,” I rasp, tingling with pleasure. “Last time was about me, but this time I want to taste you,” I whisper, and he blinks up at me in confusion.

“Taste me?” he mutters, knitting his brows together.

“What’s that look about?” I ask, a knot forming in my chest, but he waves me off, his face still an inch from my center.

“I’m trained in your pleasure, not mine.”

It’s my turn to frown this time, but instead of delving deeper into what that’s supposed to mean, I smile. “Then let me enlighten you.”

Clenching my thighs around his head, I use the moment of surprise to flip us. He moves willingly, so we’re the other way around, and I quickly scoot down the length of him before I change my mind and ride his face instead.

I don’t stop until I’m kneeling on the floor, and he shuffles to the end of the bed, peering down at me with wide eyes. “I don’t have my gloves,” I blurt, and he shrugs.

“I trust you.”

At least one of us does.

He stands and I quickly reach for the waistband of his shorts, tugging at the fabric to reveal his long, thick cock.

“Holy fuck,” I breathe, running my tongue over my bottom lip.

His shorts form a pool at his feet, and he doesn’t bother to kick them away as I lean in closer, running my tongue along the underside of his cock.

Lust leaves his skin warm against my tongue, but the groan that parts his lips as his head falls back is enough to make my thighs clench with need again.

Fuck. I won’t survive with those noises.

Never.

Looking up at him through my lashes, I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock as I dare to cup his balls.

When nothing instantly goes wrong, I knead them in time with the strokes of my tongue along his length until he’s a panting mess.

When his hazel eyes find mine again, storming with ecstasy, I swallow him down, not stopping until he hits the back of my throat.

“Fuck, Elodie,” he rasps, stroking his fingers through my hair as the muscles of his stomach clench.

I release him, only to swallow him down once again, picking the rhythm as I brace one hand against his thigh, the other working his balls.

“Fuck, Petal. You have to stop. I’m going to come. You’re going to make me come, please, not yet,” he begs, but I want to taste it, I want the euphoria of being the one that makes him fall to his knees with pleasure.

He presses his thumb against my bottom lip, despite his dick lying heavy on my tongue. I swallow, refusing to let him go, and he groans.

“Fuck, I swear, Petal. I’ve never…” His words trail off, but they’re enough to make me pause.

His thumb falls away from my lips as I release his cock. “You’ve never what?” I breathe, panting for him, and he shakes his head.

“No one has ever…” His words linger in the air as my jaw falls slack and my heart races with the words he’s not saying.

“Have you ever come in someone’s mouth before, Rion?” I ask, unable to believe it, but the wild look in his eyes confirms it as he shakes his head.

“I’ve never had my cock in anyone’s mouth before,” he croaks, the cords in his forearms straining as he blinks down at me.

“Then there’s no way I’m stopping,” I mutter, swallowing him all the way to the back of my throat again. He groans as I repeat the motion two more times before I let his length pop from my lips. “Fuck my mouth, Rion.”

He blinks at me as he slowly shakes his head.

“I can’t. I—”

“Fuck. My. Mouth,” I repeat, dragging my fingers across his skin to dig my nails into the globes of his ass as I position my lips at his cock again.

All he does is stare down at me in disbelief. I wrap my lips around his cock, slowly dragging my tongue across his flesh, but this time, when I think I can’t take any more, I dig my nails in more, thrusting his cock further into my mouth.

That’s the only encouragement he needs.

His fingers tangle in my hair as he retracts, slamming back in a moment later. I hold on for dear life, choking around him, but it’s what I live for. I’m sure my desire will be trickling down my thighs when I stand.

He fucks me with a feverish pace, desperate, needy, feral.

There’s no vocal warning that he’s about to come, but I feel it in the way he tenses, his thrusts getting shorter and sharper, until he paints the back of my throat.

I swallow every last drop of him to the sweet sound of him groaning in ecstasy.

I’m panting as he releases me, and I wobble to my feet, feeling the damp center of arousal between my thighs. I take a step toward the door and he shakes his head.

“I’m not done with you,” he breathes, and I grin.

“Me either. I just want to lock the door so we’re not disturbed,” I state, and he shakes his head again.

“Oh, we won’t be disturbed. They’re out.”

“But they could come back,” I explain as my hand wraps around the door handle, ready to turn the lock, but he waves me off.

“Nah, they’ll be back tomorrow,” he murmurs, kicking his shorts to the side as he climbs back on the bed, his cock still hard as I blink at him.

“Tomorrow?” I repeat, curiosity sinking its teeth into me like usual.

“Yeah, that’s how approval works. You get twenty-four hours.”

Approval? Twenty-four hours? My gut churns as my hand drops to my side, and I turn to face him head on. “Rion, where are they?”

His eyelids are closed. He’s lost to the afterglow, but his words are like a dagger straight through my soul.

“Twenty-seven sixteen Cherry Blossom Lane, plot two-one-three.”