Read Online RIPPED: A Dark Romance (Killer Lips Book 1) by Molly Molloy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Molly Molloy
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solid on the bobbing dock, the water thrashing directly beneath our feet. Our eyes are melded together and the pressure rises between us as though it's being forced up from the gashing tide.
My pulse is beating inside my ears so hard I can't draw a single breath of stinging cold air. Mark is so close my body shimmers from the electricity coming off him. He leans forward, his head tipping down to come closer.
Chapter NINE
I let him take my mouth, rapturous at how he plunders me with his tongue. His fingers dagger through my hair above my ear, scraping it back and taking my head to one side with his heavy palm.
At the same time his mouth moves to trail a line of kisses from the lobe to my clavicle and I gasp with the shivers coursing down every limb. I don't care how bitterly cold it is, my body glows with internal warmth.
I have never in my life wanted to feel a man inside me so urgently. A deep moan escapes my empty mouth when his hand returns to my breast, squeezing it a little harder now with the same need I'm harboring.
“Let's go inside,” he whispers. “I'm taking you to bed.”
“No dungeon in this castle?” I joke. Then I recall the very full-on dungeon in the portigo . How could I have forgotten already?
“Next time,” he says, almost serious. “Tonight I want to be sweet.”
He undresses me very slowly, savoring every newly exposed pore. He trails his fingers along my skin, then kisses and suckles a path as though to discover every nuance of my body. I have never felt so known and he hasn't even uncovered the intimate areas that are screeching with hunger for his touch.
When he slides the strap over the curve of my shoulder, I have a moment of deja vu from the dream and color slightly, remembering the salacious way I'd opened my legs for him.
“I dream of this,” he murmurs, his voice a timbre of rusty nails.
Could his dream possibly be as lewd as mine? His desire as rabid?
As though reading my mind, he yanks the strap down the final few inches and pulls my breast from its lace cup. His firm fingers cup the underside and push the mound up to his mouth. His passion kicks in as he suckles the point hard into his mouth, lapping across the peak with the flat width of his hot tongue.
I moan out loud as he continues to lave my nipple while reaching into the other cup and freeing my swollen globe. With both breasts in his heavy grasp, he mounds them together while his mouth switches from one tip to the other, keeping them both equally inflamed with his tantalizing tongue.
When I reach my hands up to the side of his neck to tease my fingers through his hair, he becomes a wild man, throwing me back onto the huge bed and hauling the black wool Prada pants down my legs.
He pauses a moment to observe me splayed on the gold silk with my naked breasts pulled free of my bra. Wearing the only pair of ridiculously expensive black lace panties I own and never thought I'd get to wear at such a perfectly appropriate moment.
Again I raise my hands to reach for him. To trace a fingertip along the ridge of muscle exposed as he pulls open the buttons of his shirt. But he grabs my wrists, yanking my hands away from his bare chest and pulls one hand to the post at the foot of the bed.
He drags the loose tie from around his neck and binds my arm firm to the pilaster. With one hand he unloops the black studded belt from his jeans and straps my other wrist. Then he falls to his knees between my legs and tugs my ass down the bed toward him.
Kneeling at the bedside with my stretched vulva inches from his face, inhaling the aroma of my desire for him.
“You smell like heaven, baby,” he growls. “Let me taste your sweetness.”
He grazes his fingers across my pussy and the light scrape of the lace against my sodden slit makes me shudder. I flinch slightly when he buries his face between my legs, biting the expanse of my sex through the lacy fabric. What does he think of how dripping wet I am?
The momentary
My pulse is beating inside my ears so hard I can't draw a single breath of stinging cold air. Mark is so close my body shimmers from the electricity coming off him. He leans forward, his head tipping down to come closer.
Chapter NINE
I let him take my mouth, rapturous at how he plunders me with his tongue. His fingers dagger through my hair above my ear, scraping it back and taking my head to one side with his heavy palm.
At the same time his mouth moves to trail a line of kisses from the lobe to my clavicle and I gasp with the shivers coursing down every limb. I don't care how bitterly cold it is, my body glows with internal warmth.
I have never in my life wanted to feel a man inside me so urgently. A deep moan escapes my empty mouth when his hand returns to my breast, squeezing it a little harder now with the same need I'm harboring.
“Let's go inside,” he whispers. “I'm taking you to bed.”
“No dungeon in this castle?” I joke. Then I recall the very full-on dungeon in the portigo . How could I have forgotten already?
“Next time,” he says, almost serious. “Tonight I want to be sweet.”
He undresses me very slowly, savoring every newly exposed pore. He trails his fingers along my skin, then kisses and suckles a path as though to discover every nuance of my body. I have never felt so known and he hasn't even uncovered the intimate areas that are screeching with hunger for his touch.
When he slides the strap over the curve of my shoulder, I have a moment of deja vu from the dream and color slightly, remembering the salacious way I'd opened my legs for him.
“I dream of this,” he murmurs, his voice a timbre of rusty nails.
Could his dream possibly be as lewd as mine? His desire as rabid?
As though reading my mind, he yanks the strap down the final few inches and pulls my breast from its lace cup. His firm fingers cup the underside and push the mound up to his mouth. His passion kicks in as he suckles the point hard into his mouth, lapping across the peak with the flat width of his hot tongue.
I moan out loud as he continues to lave my nipple while reaching into the other cup and freeing my swollen globe. With both breasts in his heavy grasp, he mounds them together while his mouth switches from one tip to the other, keeping them both equally inflamed with his tantalizing tongue.
When I reach my hands up to the side of his neck to tease my fingers through his hair, he becomes a wild man, throwing me back onto the huge bed and hauling the black wool Prada pants down my legs.
He pauses a moment to observe me splayed on the gold silk with my naked breasts pulled free of my bra. Wearing the only pair of ridiculously expensive black lace panties I own and never thought I'd get to wear at such a perfectly appropriate moment.
Again I raise my hands to reach for him. To trace a fingertip along the ridge of muscle exposed as he pulls open the buttons of his shirt. But he grabs my wrists, yanking my hands away from his bare chest and pulls one hand to the post at the foot of the bed.
He drags the loose tie from around his neck and binds my arm firm to the pilaster. With one hand he unloops the black studded belt from his jeans and straps my other wrist. Then he falls to his knees between my legs and tugs my ass down the bed toward him.
Kneeling at the bedside with my stretched vulva inches from his face, inhaling the aroma of my desire for him.
“You smell like heaven, baby,” he growls. “Let me taste your sweetness.”
He grazes his fingers across my pussy and the light scrape of the lace against my sodden slit makes me shudder. I flinch slightly when he buries his face between my legs, biting the expanse of my sex through the lacy fabric. What does he think of how dripping wet I am?
The momentary
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