Page 28 of Manic

“Tasting you,” he answered. “I need to fucking taste you.”

He yanked my sweats and underwear off, baring me to him, and my mouth fell open. I kicked out and closed my legs, but he grabbed my knees and pried them open. His hands slid up my thighs.

Before I could muster a protest, he was already kneeling and trailing his tongue up the center of me at the edge of the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathed, shutting my eyes.

Don’t enjoy it, don’t fucking enjoy it.

I dropped my head to the quilts with a soft moan as my heart ferociously pounded. He pushed against my knees, widening me, and my leg mindlessly curled around his shoulders.

I should definitely hate this, but⁠—

Another moan tore from my throat as he sucked my clit between his teeth, grazing the too-sensitive area. Yet somehow, my pleasure reignited as he tasted me by the expert skill of his tongue. I ground my hips and my hand found his hair as he worked between my thighs. He chuckled.

Fucking asshole.

Then two of his fingers slipped inside my pussy, and I moaned, grinding harder. He pinned me down and traced his tongue over my clit again and again until it was almost unbearable. I whimpered and rode his face, wildly thrusting as renewed pressure built low in my core.

I was going to cum again.

He fucked me with his fingers, then curled them just as he sucked my clit, and I spiraled into another climax with cruel intensity. Warmth barrelled through me, and I cried out, legs trembling on his face.

My entire body was in the clouds, weightless and free. I lifted a shaky arm, resting it over my eyes and calmed my wild breaths. Yes, something was very wrong with me. Not only did he fuck my mouth, but I fucked his face and enjoyed it.

“Jesus,” I called out, my eyes flying open as his tongue glided over me again, as if savoring the taste of my pleasure.

He studied me from beneath long, dark lashes before pulling back with a feral grin. His fingers and chin glistened with my need, but his smugness had me kicking out a foot, connecting with his chest. He didn’t lose balance, but he held my foot against him with a small, teasing smile.

He deliberately climbed to his feet and tossed me my sweats before pulling out a worn pack of cigarettes. He placed one behind his ear and studied me. I quickly dressed, too aware of how his gaze lingered on my skin—my thighs in particular.

“I think I misjudged you for someone who was boring.” His eyes skimmed over me. “My mistake.”

“Fuck you,” I clipped. “That’s not happening again.”

“I warned you.”

Manic chuckled softly and pulled out a lighter, running a shaky thumb over the end of it. My brows furrowed, and I wondered if he was on drugs. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was.

“Now that you’ve cum twice, will you finally cooperate with me?” he asked smugly. “I don’t have time to waste.”

Warmth flooded my cheeks. He probably used sex as another manipulation tactic—anything for his benefit—and making me orgasm gave him faster results.

He walked to the windows, bending to pick up his gun and then shoved it back into the waistband of his slacks.

I ground my teeth. “Cooperate with my kidnapper? You’re delusional if you think that’s ever going to happen.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Manic took the cigarette from behind his ear and placed it between his lips to light it. My heart leaped when he stepped closer, invading my space like all the other years. My pulse drummed harder.

“You shouldn’t smoke,” I chastised, nervously smoothing my hands over my wrinkled shirt. He huffed a laugh and then inhaled, talking around it as his gaze settled on me.

“I’m not going to take advice from someone who’s been in communication with their stalker and hasn’t told anyone. What’s that list in your phone?”

He arched a knowing brow as smoke filled the space between us. Dread sank into my stomach though, and my mouth fell open over that list—that he knew I had an admirer. He went through my phone?

I clenched my jaw even though a glimmer of hope rose in my chest. “You know I have a stalker? Do you know who it is?”