Page 107 of Devils' Day Party
“Kiss me, Karma. And then ride me. I don't care if I see a ghost. He can watch if he wants, but we're not stopping until the goddamn ghost tour.”
“Holy fuck,” I groan as he drags me back toward the bed, pulling me down on top of him. Calix tastes like first love and heartbreak both, and I find that I'm addicted to it, addicted to him. His mouth is lush and sweet, but venomous. I can feel the poison pumping through my veins, making me lightheaded and dizzy as he rolls us over and then pushes my shirt up, exposing the two pale mounds of my breasts.
There's only a sliver of light peeking through the curtains on the right side of the room, but it's enough that I can see Calix run his tongue over his full lower lip. He leans down and takes my mouth, using his right hand to cup my breast and circle my nipple with this middle finger and thumb.
Part of me wants to prolong this moment, encourage him to keep talking. The rest of me can't shove my sweats down my hips fast enough. Calix helps me wrestle the pants off and chuck them to the floor before he descends on me again, sucking my nipple into his hot mouth as I search desperately for a way to open the fly on his tight pants.
He groans as my fingers tickle his lower belly, teasing open his button and shoving down his fly. My fingers slip inside the leather of his pants, freeing his cock and greedily wrapping around the base of it.
“I haven't had sex for a year,” he murmurs against my ear. “An entire fucking year. Do you know how goddamn horny I am?”
“And whose problem is that?” I whisper back, swallowing back my emotions as Calix trails his lips up to my collarbone then my throat, recapturing my lips with a pirate's frenzy, desperately searching for blood and treasure both.
My hand pumps Calix's shaft, encouraging ragged moans to slip from his throat, unpracticed and raw but oh so sexy. He's so natural at this, so smooth, and I wonder if that's just because he's so damn good at controlling himself, of playing the modern aristocrat.
“Get rough and messy with me,” I beg, squeezing him a little harder, remembering how, even with me bent over and propped up against the side of a train car, Calix was too practiced, too in control. “Let that tension out, so we can slow down. I want this day to last.”
He lifts his head up, but all I can see is the shape of his face, limned in that tiny bit of sunlight. As I've asked, Calix slows down on trying to please me, letting me work him up to a climax. He spills himself across my belly and breasts and then collapses to the bed beside me, breathing hard.
“I don't have any condoms,” he growls out as I roll toward him and reach out to unbutton his doublet. He not only looks like a fae prince, but he sounds like one, like a pissed-off royal with a grudge … and an insatiable desire for pleasures of the flesh.
“We don't need any,” I whisper against his lips, and whatever he takes that to mean—that I'm on some sort of birth control, that I just don't care, that I'll get a morning-after pill later—I don't know and I don't care.
“Good. Because I'm not sure I have the self-control to leave right now and find some.”
“I wouldn't have let you if you'd tried,” I repeat, running my hands up his chest and marveling at how much his muscles have developed over the last year. A man, not a boy. Our lips work together like we were made for each other, and I find myself arching my hips against his, seeking more.
Calix chuckles and pushes me back with a hand on my pelvis, tracing the bone beneath my flesh with the smooth whorls of his fingertips and making me shiver. “Take it slow, huh?”
“Well, you know, I meant … give you time to recover …” I trail off, thinking of last year and how long it took Calix to recover. That is, not long at all. But every boy is different, every encounter is different. As if you're some sort of expert, Karma, having been with only three boys a handful of times.
“Recover is a subjective term,” he purrs, taking my hand and placing it on the already rigid length of his shaft. “But don't worry: we'll take our time.” Calix drops his lips to my breasts, teasing my nipples with that hot slash of menace he calls a mouth and then trailing down to even hotter, wetter places.
He tastes me like I'm something to be savored, working me up into a sweat, my naked flesh slick as he sits back up, chucking his doublet and pants.
