Page 118 of Inked in Bloom
She hovers there, and a pinch of fear flares through the bond before it’s tucked away just as quickly. I can already see her retreating, rebuilding the walls that have started to crumble between us. Instead, sweetness fills the air. I suck in a breath when she drags her hand along my torso and lands on my waistband.
I release a shaky exhale. “Monroe?—”
Slowly, tortuously, she inches down my last stitch of clothing.
“Stay still, Professor,” she says with the hint of a smirk. “Let’s see if you’re as good at taking instruction as you are at giving it.”
My cock springs free.
She watches it bounce against my thigh and then glances back up at my face. “Be a good bunny and don’t interrupt my process.”
Fuck me.
Wrapping her fist around me, she works in elegant, exploratory strokes, noting my every reaction, as if makingme come is a chemistry experiment she wants to ace, not the forgone conclusion I know it to be.
Doesn’t she remember the ruined pants fiasco? I’m a goner.
A thick bead of precum buds from my tip. There’s a self-satisfied glint in her eyes, and pride swirls through the bond as desire permeates the misty air. I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop myself from exploding right there on her stunning face.
That wouldn’t do at all.
“Monroe— I—Fuck.” She squeezes the base of my dick, and I groan with the next twist of her fist. I don’t know what turns me on more, the way she’s owning my body like it’s hers to toy with—which it is—or how wickedly pleased she is with being my total undoing.
“Keep stroking yourself.” She lets go of my weeping dick and sits back onto her heels. “But don’t come.”
“Cruel woman,” I say, my fist already matching the rhythmic pace she set.
“You offered to be my canvas,” she teases with a teasing frown. “Can’t have you ruining my masterpiece before it’s ready, can I?”
“I suppose—not.” I pant between quick tugs on my shaft. She undoes the top button of her blouse and continues working her way down. My eyes are glued to the curve of her breasts, my peony wrapped over one, peeking out more and more with each undone button. Pleasure zooms along my spine at the sight. “Shit. I’m gonna?—”
“Not yet you’re not.” Her voice is a command halting my hand.
“I don’t think I can stop myself.” I steady my breaths, and when the stars clear from my vision, she shakes herhead at me.
“Are you going to beg, Professor?” she tsks, twitching her nose so her shirt and skirt disappear.
My desire for her is eclipsed by pride.
“I’ll do whatever you want.” If my mate wants to put me in my place for all eternity, I’ll fucking let her. “Please.”
I’ve never been this hard or desperate to come, but I stroke my cock like the good pupil I promised her I’d be.
Monroe wrangles her hair into a wavy ponytail and smirks up at me, her expression feral and full of mischief.
“Time to make your masterpiece.” With a twist of her fingers between her breasts, she unclasps her bra and lets the straps fall down her arms. She lifts her chin, her nipples pebbling under the mist. Her body is a work of art worth worshiping. “Come for me, Briar.”
I memorize every dip and curve of her body, each stunning stroke of our bond inked into her pink flesh. Round and full and fucking magnificent. For the first time she’s not hiding from me. She wants me to markher.
My mate.
“Fuck. I?—”
My balls tighten and that streak of pleasure zips down my spine once again, only this time, I don’t hold back. I unleash, painting those lush swells and the inked blossoms above them, streak after streak, until they’re coated and glistening. I slow my strokes, mesmerized. Cum shimmers on the tips of her nipples. My cock twitches, becoming hard. Just as a droplet is about to slip onto the greenhouse floor, she swipes her finger through it, sucking it between her lips.
I groan.
I don’t think I’ve seen anything sexier. That is, until she hums and circles her nipple with that very same finger before popping it back in her mouth. “You taste so good.”
