Unshackle (Deliver 7)

And his mouth.

“No.” She shook her head frantically, fighting the steely grip of his hands on her thighs.

“Tell me. Are you not the least bit passive in bed?” he asked. “Truthfully.”

“When it’s consensual, you mean? Like with a man I want to be with?”

“Yes.”

She contemplated her answer as his mouth took a meandering stroll along her ankle.

“I don’t remember.” She tried to kick his face and hit air. “Are you?”

“No.” He moved on to her foot, warming the arch with an open-mouthed kiss. “You don’t want a passive man.”

“I don’t want a man. Period.” She thrashed and swung her arms, going nowhere. “Let me go!”

“Your body betrays you.” His gaze dipped, bringing attention to the moisture chilling in the air against her folds.

No. How could that be? She didn’t want this. “Don’t—”

He buried his mouth between her thighs.

She bowed off the cushion and tried to roll away, but he stopped her. With his hands on her thighs, he ravished her pussy, plundering, conquering, until she was hoarse from screaming and dizzy with fatigue.

They’d been dueling in this position long enough for both of them to be covered in a sheen of sweat. She didn’t want to straddle his shoulders anymore. Didn’t want his tongue buried inside her. But there was no evading him. No interrupting that merciless mouth. No part of her left unexplored, unlicked.

Faster and hungrier, he ate, groaning against her, building the rhythm, and dragging her with him on a spiraling, breathless descent south of heaven.

Death would be waiting. At the bottom of the fall. At the end of his tongue. If she orgasmed, it would break her.

Every skilled touch felt like a sledgehammer crashing into her carefully erected shields. She wouldn’t be able to stop the flood of pleasure much longer.

If she harmed him, he’d said he would hurt another girl. But would he, really? After the mercy he’d shown the blonde in the basement and the peculiar adoration he was giving her body now, his threat didn’t hold true.

She decided to take a chance. A last-ditch effort of strength.

Balling a fist at her side, she swung and connected with the side of his head. Yes!

He grunted, reared back, and swiped at the moisture on his lips.

Oh, God. If looks could kill… There was no mistaking the haughty brows, tense mouth, and hawkish glare. He struck an impressive figure when he was calm. But when he was pissed, he was terrifying.

She couldn’t pull air into her lungs.

“Tomas.” He inclined his head, motioning his bodyguard forward. When his order was obeyed, he said in a wintry tone, “Pull out your cock.”

“What?” Her breath released in short, hard pants. “No!”

John clapped a hand over her mouth as Tomas unzipped. It took a moment for the man’s full length to spring free. Then it was there, semi-hard, growing harder, really goddamn hard to miss.

She choked at the sight of him, abandoning her fight to utter horrified shock. John removed his hand from her face, but she still couldn’t breathe. She’d never seen a man hung like that. Maybe in porn, but sweet Jesus, never in person. It couldn’t be real.

The girth, the length, the sheer fucking size… And it was still lengthening, thickening substantially in the fist of his slow, lazy strokes.

“I don’t need to hurt another girl when I have a solution right here.” John slid a finger between her legs and pressed farther back, testing the give of her tightest hole. “You can struggle and scream, but I promise, little fighter, if you strike my face again, Tomas will impale that monster in your ass, and you’ll feel all ten of those inches.”

Fully erect, Tomas stared down at her with absolute intent in his eyes. John wore the same expression. No lust. No smiles. Just single, unified purpose.

They weren’t fucking around.

The bitter taste of defeat filled her mouth. She swallowed, turned her head away, and ordered her body to relax.

“Hold down my arms.” She didn’t trust her impulses.

Tomas zipped up his fly and stood somewhere above her with his hands shackling her wrists. Then John pressed his mouth to the inside of her thigh. She shuddered.

He took his time edging his way back to her center. She whimpered as he explored, gasped as he bit, and sighed as he grazed on her flesh.

By the time he reached her pussy, she was strung out and panting. His finger was the first to sink inside, and her body jolted. He pumped that thick digit in and out, surging a torrent of honeyed lava through her system, sizzling, consuming, and rocking her through the invasion.

Her voice produced sounds she’d never heard, sobs of forced pleasure as he strained forward, thrust harder, and joined his tongue with his fingers.

“You taste like sin.” His hands trembled against her, his breathing erratic. “Fucking addictive.”

She liquefied, bones dissolving, and tears swarming her eyes. Raw, sexual heat flamed her skin. He probed deeper, licked her faster, and her whole body caught fire. She gripped Tomas’ wrists, digging fingernails into muscle and shaking from head to toe.