Page 62 of Somno Slave

“Fuck!” The curse tears out of me.

He mumbles his approval into me, and the vibrations make my head spin. There’s a pause, a moment where he pulls away, and then the cold air hits me. He tears off my knickers in one clean swipe. And suddenly, I’m no longer hidden from him.

I yelp, closing my thighs quickly. Shame burns my cheeks, but I don’t get far. His hands instantly pry me open again.

“You look fucking delicious.” It settles heavy in my mind. “Never hide yourself from me.”

He cups my sex before smearing my juices across my thighs. I shake. I force myself not to but it’s no use. I’m a mess for him

He pushes the tip of his finger inside of me. I clamp around him. He pushes it in further, curls it.

I scream. The noise sets something off within him. In an instant, he drops back between my thighs, lips immediately finding my clit again. He flicks his tongue and for a brief moment, it feels like his tongue split in half. Forks. It hugs my clit from each side, wrapping around it tightly, and squeezing until I’m right on edge.

I gasp. “Deogal, I’m about to—”

He hums, andfuck,the vibrations push me over the edge. He thrusts his finger all the way in, moving rapidly as the orgasm waves slice through me. The high attacks me from all angles. I scream. God, I sound like a starved animal desperately chasing something violent.

But he doesn’t stop. Even when I fall from my cliff, he remains locked on me. He ravishes. I writhe, the pleasure too much, but his arms lock tightly around me. I’m forced to stay put. He feasts like he hasn’t eaten in years.

“Deogal!” I cry out.

It’s too sensitive.

I try to push him away. Fail.

And then—God, I feel it again. The sharp ascending pleasure. Heat coils low. I try to reject it, but when he slides in a secondfinger, I cry out. He knows exactly what to do. Where to touch. What makes me go fucking crazy.

This one hits me violently.

I snap in half like I’ve been possessed. My orgasm hits. Ecstasy strips every nerve bare. I’m not sure when my hands moved but suddenly my fingers are in his hair, pulling, pushing. I buck wildly, and the noise that tears out of me is unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. Deep. Desperate.

My toes curl. Every hair leaps to attention.

And then—oxygen. It floods me violently. And...withdrawal. He’s no longer on me. The loss feels brutal.

I’m aware of him before I look.

The heat of him still there. In the corner of the room, hidden in shadows, like he no longer trusts himself to come close to me.

My breathing turns shallow before I can stop it. One inhale too quick. Then another. The air catches strangely in my lungs, thin and hot.

Because he’s staring at me like violence.

My pulse stumbles hard against my throat when I finally drag my eyes toward him.

He hasn’t moved. His eyes stay on me and something ugly turns low in my stomach at the realization that he’s looking at me like he could ruin me with his bare hands and enjoy watching it happen. But he doesn’t cross the room like he doesn’t trust himself to.

The thought lands low in my stomach, sharp enough to make me press my thighs together.

His gaze drops there for a second.

A tiny movement, barely anything, but it feels like being caught naked. The silence burns before he breaks it.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Doctor.”

My stomach knots so suddenly it hurts.

Morning?