Page 47 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
He returns to my mouth for more heavy kisses. His tongue lashes against mine. I almost draw back in alarm and inexperience, but he holds me close. He leads the kiss ’til it feels like the most natural, instinctual thing in the world.
I’m no longer worrying about my lack of experience or if I’m pleasing him. It feels so good, I’m too busy losing myself in his kiss. His lips on mine. Mine touching his.
His hand roams to the small of my back and he pulls me further into him, deepening our kiss, forcing me to surrender to his dominant mouth.
And I do—a shiver runs through me as I grip Caelian’s ironclad muscles and play off of him. What at first feels uncertain and foreign, quickly spirals into a hot desire that has me climbing into his lap. That has me slick and throbbing.
Caelian must sense this, because he pauses long enough between our kisses to tell me how he’ll have me again tonight.
Before any anxiety can bottle up inside me, he meets my eyes and says, “But it’ll be different,bella. It won’t hurt. I’ll make it feel so good for you.”
“Caelian,” I murmur, blinking dizzily, my mouth kiss swollen. “I don’t understand.”
“I know the secret you kept from me the night we married. What I took from you that night and why you’ve been running scared.”
I go to look away, but he grips my chin and forces my gaze. “Tell me, Nevi. You haven’t been pleasured from the other times I’ve had you, have you?”
Hesitantly, almost guiltily, I shake my head to the side. Not that I even understand what it would mean or feel like to be pleasured…
My impression of sex has always been transactional. One person taking, another person receiving. Even Mom and Dad’s marriage had been like this, Mom admittedly seeking cover with a man who was able to provide it.
Caelian’s dark eyes flash with knowing, his large hand rubbing his jaw. He rises from the chair still holding onto me like I weigh nothing and then sets me down on the dinner table. “I thought so. Tonight, that changes. Spread your fucking legs, Nevi. Show me that beautiful pussy of yours.”
My skin flushes as if it’s on fire. I almost glance around to check if anyone else has heard the absurdity of his words, but then I realize we’re alone.
I’m trapped with the beast that is my husband.
“Caelian—”
“This dress has to go,” he grunts. He claws at the skirt, hiking it further and further up my thighs.
At first, I try to block his attempts. As his hands shove my dress up, I desperately, with burning cheeks, try to push it back down.
It feels indecent. Immodest.Wrong.
A ravenous hunger darkens in Caelian’s gaze. His wide, square jaw pulls tighter with tension. His huge hands grab mine and force them still. Then he forces me to tug up the length of my own dress. I can do nothing but obey as his grip overpowers mine and finishes bunching my dress up about my waist.
My panties are on display. My hips and thighs. Mysex.
I brace my hands on the tabletop and draw my legs closed.
Caelian won’t have it. He pries them apart—as wide as they’ll go—and then he husks out a breath that’s gravely and rough to my ears, but also the sound that matches the look in his eyes.
That ravenous hunger that’s darkened the gray color to a violent shade, like a storm’s fast on the way.
I gnaw my teeth on my lips and mumble, “Caelian, please… my… my legs. Let me close them.”
“Why would I do that,bella?” he growls. “Why would I let you hide the pretty little pussy I want to see? The pretty little pussy I want totaste?”
My eyes round. I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re—”
RIP!
With his long, clenching fingers, he snatches away the delicate fabric of my panties. A soft cotton pair that Ms. Poitier had put on me.
I’m bare and exposed. My sex is on display for his viewing pleasure.
And I can’t even snap my legs shut! If I should try, he’d block me and split them apart again.