Page 76 of Every Shattered Note
He lifts me with one smooth motion.Like I weigh nothing and mean everything.
He carries me through the house.The light is fading—just enough sun left to paint him in gold and ink, shadows stretching behind us like we’re running from something, or maybe running toward it.
He doesn’t speak.Doesn’t need to.His grip on me says everything—tight around my thighs, his chest pressed to mine, his breath falling fast and uneven.
He takes me to his room.
To that absurdly large bed with white linens that look too pristine for what’s about to happen.He places me there like I’m fragile.Like I’m breakable.
I’m not.
But the way he looks at me makes me feel like maybe I am—and he’s the one who’s slowly putting me back together.
He kneels again, hands on my thighs, then smooths them up and in, thumbs grazing the edge of my panties.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Alybear,” he says, voice low, like gravel dragged through honey.“I’m going to take my time with you ...showing you how much you mean to me.”
He presses a kiss just above the fabric.
Then another, lower.
The scrap of cotton doesn’t last long.He slides it down inch by inch, trailing kisses as he goes, his breath a warm draft across my thighs.
When he tosses the panties aside, his hands settle on my hips like he’s claiming them.
Claiming me.
And then he lowers his mouth between my legs.
The first swipe of his tongue unravels me.It hits me like lightning.It’s almost as if he already knows what I like and he’s playing the exact song my body wants to sing.
I cry out—half moan, half plea—as he tastes me, explores me, worships every inch like it’s his purpose.
His hands press into my hips, holding me in place when I try to move, to buck, to chase something just out of reach.
“You’re gonna stay right here,” he murmurs, voice muffled against me, lips brushing over slick heat.“You’re gonna let me taste you.Again.And again.”
I dig my fingers into the sheets, knuckles white, thighs trembling.But I push anyway—my hips arching into his mouth, desperate and aching, begging without words.
“Please,” I gasp, breath ragged.“Please, I need?—”
He pulls back just enough to blow a slow breath across me.My entire body jerks.
“Oh, you need, huh?”His voice is hoarse with hunger, but there’s that damn smirk in it.That restraint.That patience that’s going to ruin me.
I whimper, pushing up again, trying to chase the heat of his tongue, the softness of his lips, the friction of his stubble.“Don’t tease me?—”
He groans low in his throat.“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
And he does.
His mouth returns—slow and languid—licking into me with devastating intent.Gentle at first.Barely there.Just enough to drive me out of my mind.I try to move, to grind against his face, but his grip on my hips tightens, anchoring me in place like I’m his to keep.
“You’re so fucking greedy,” he murmurs, his voice low and dark against me.His tongue teases, circling exactly where I need him most.“So sweet when you beg.Go on—tell me what you want.”
“Please,” I gasp, hips twitching as he exhales against my sex, the heat of it making me ache deeper.My fingers clutch the sheets.“Please?—”
“Please what?”he growls, the edge of a dare in his voice.“Say it.Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
