Page 30 of Ignition Rites

I stare at him, and his grin widens. “Don’t suddenly get shy on me.”

“I’m not shy.”

“Then prove it.”

Asshole.

I climb over him, his hands closing around my hips as I settle a knee on either side of his head and hover for half a second.

“Lo.”

“What?”

“Sit.”

“That is a terrible angle for giving orders.”

“Sit.”

I lower myself, and he pulls me the rest of the way down. The first drag of his tongue makes me yelp.

“Mmm.” His grip tightens on my hips. “You smell like heaven, Lo.” Then, quieter against me: “Mine.”

The smelling-like-heaven part isn’t what should scare me. The mine is. A few nights ago, another man fucked me like claiming me was the point, and before that, Ash stopped one inch short of finding out what either of us would’ve done if he kissed me. Now Rafe says mine like the word belongs in his mouth too, and it doesn’t scare me nearly as much as it should.

Then his tongue circles my clit and I stop having the brainpower to worry about what that means.

“Fuck.”

He does it again, slow circles first, then faster, then the flat drag of his tongue through me before he closes his mouth around my clit and sucks. My hands hit the headboard.

“Rafe.”

He hums, and the vibration tears through me.

“Oh my God.”

His fingers dig into my hips, holding me exactly where he wants me. When I try to lift away because it’s too intense, he follows.

“You’re evil.”

His laugh vibrates against me, and then two fingers press at my entrance.

I jerk, and he pauses.

I look down at him. “Don’t you dare stop.”

His eyes flash, and the fingers slide inside. When he curls them, I almost fold in half.

Apparently whoever came before me taught this man everything they knew and possibly left him written instructions, because he finds the spot inside me with humiliating efficiency. His tongue stays on my clit while his fingers work me from underneath, and my hips start moving on their own until I stop trying to control them and ride his mouth, actually ride it, every grind down earning more pressure and every lift dragging his fingers exactly where they make me forget I’m supposed to have dignity.

“Rafe. Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m close.”

He hums again.

“Keep going. Please.”

I’m usually allergic to begging, but apparently tonight has exceptions.