Page 48 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
Caelian stares. He stares and hegrunts.
My pulse quickens watching him react to me. The most intimate part of me.
It’s a foreign experience—the times we’ve been together so far have happened so fast, with Caelian jamming himself inside me, there wasn’t much time for admiring any views.
Yet, as he sets sight on me, an unexpected heat warms my skin. I’m not sure how I know, but deep inside, I’m certain he’s turned on. He’s aroused by what he sees.
Maybe it’s the way the thick lump that’s his Adam’s apple bounces in his even thicker throat. It could be the way his grip on my knees tightens to the point of near pain, as if he’s barely holding on to his composure. It could even be the subtle lick of his lips that happens in a blink-and-miss-it moment.
Whatever it is, it makes me hot all over. It makes me feel strangely secure. It makes me feel…womanly.
“Bella,” he groans. “You have the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. I’ve dreamt it in my dreams… but it didn’t click. You reallyareheaven. Fuck, I’ve got to do it.”
I don’t understand ’til he’s hooking my thighs with his arms and tugging me close to the edge of the dinner table.
“Caelian!” I gasp.
“I’ve never done it,bella,” he mutters, wedging his head between my thighs. He kisses the inside of the left one, then the right. Gentle, soft kisses that send a shiver racking through me. “But you… you’re so fucking irresistible. How fucking stupid have I been? Why haven’t I taken the time? Why haven’t I paused to see what was in front of me?”
I have no clue what he’s talking about. He seems to almost be talking to himself.
But the more he goes on, the more I baffled I become.
“I’ll please you, Nevi,” he promises. He nuzzles the inside of my thigh, his rough beard scratching the soft skin, and then places a kiss on the lips of my sex. “I’ll fucking learn what makes you writhe with pleasure. It’s what you deserve.”
My brows knit. “Caelian, what are you—oh!Ohhhhhh.”
His tongue has darted past his lips and taken a warm, appreciative lick of my slit.
The gesture’s so unexpected, so new to me that the only thing I can think to do is squeal and tense up.
Not because it doesn’t feel good. But because itdoesfeel good. And because it’s that surprising.
Caelian’s only getting started. His tongue returns to my slit, and he licks his way up and down the length of it, varying the pressure he applies and the motion he uses. Soon he’s more than licking—he’s nibbling, sucking, groaning as his mouth teases my sex in every way imaginable.
My hands grip the table to hold myself upright. I’m caught between the shudders of arousal passing through me and the shock that’s taken root.
Never in a million years did I imagine Caelian would be on his knees before me, his face buried between my thighs, his mouth on my… mypussy.
The word rings through my head and makes me shudder all over again.
I’ve been so sheltered, so protected that I’m embarrassingly inexperienced. Even dirty words make me flush hot and feel silly.
But what other way could it be described?
Caelian sucks at my pussy lips and my clit and his tongue swirls inside me. My body goes slack with pleasure as any insecure thoughts fade away. Soon I’m gasping out, I’m digging my fingers into his hair and undulating my hips out of instinct, moving in tune with him.
His response is a beastly growl. It’s a precursor to his madness. His mouth gapes wide and he feasts on every inch of me he can taste.
I’ve never noticed how long his tongue is until this moment—how he easily commands it to wreak havoc on me and send shockwaves tingling up my spine.
When I’m still not close enough for his liking and he craves more, he grips my ass and lifts me partially up off the table. My hips slide forward, my legs falling open wider than even I knew they could. His nose grazes my pussy. His beard scratches the insides of my thighs. I close my eyes and marvel at how good he’s making me feel.
The delicious stroke of his tongue. The thick fingers he adds. The patterns he draws on my clit.
He pulls the quivering nub between his lips and suckles like I’m nectar he’s draining from a piece of fruit.
It’s my undoing—I cry out and let go, my legs going limp over his broad, muscled shoulders. I’m swept up in an intense spiral of pleasure, spinning around and around ’til I’m writhing on the dinner table.