Blood Ties by Lana Sky

Blood Ties by Lana Sky

Author:Lana Sky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lana Sky


Chapter Twelve

I’ve angered him. His eyes latch onto my mouth, and when he yanks me forward again, I’m sure he’ll bite me outright, like a true beast.

He kisses me instead. What my brain processes as a kiss anyway, the act of two mouths meeting for longer than a peck.

But Domino doesn’t suck at my mouth sweetly to compel me to silence. He brutalizes. His tongue lashes at mine like a whip, demanding submission. Nothing more, nothing less.

But it shouldn’t feel so damn good.

He makes me fight to keep up with him or risk being consumed. I have to meet every prodding jab of his tongue with one of my own. Open my mouth further to let him in. Take him in.

In so many ways, this feels more intimate than even sucking his cock. I can hear him more clearly—feel him in my head. His grunts of pleasure when he nips me with his teeth. His startled hiss when I bite him back.

His heartbeat rages, hammering through my breasts as the scrape of my dress’ fragile material irritates my nipples into sharp, stabbing peaks.

He grips me tighter, practically kneading the flesh of my ass until I’m arching my back to escape the pressure. Then leaning into it…

God, he makes me hate myself. My body turns against me, and my brain struggles to keep up. I hate him. Hate him…

And yet, I shiver in anticipation as he slips his fingers beneath the hem of my dress, finding the bare skin of my ass.

And the delicate, sensitive valley in between.

I jump, unable to silence a cry of alarm—one he greedily swallows before letting me withdraw.

My lips sting, my heart racing as I realize how close we are—practically skin on skin. If it weren’t for the fabric of his pants…

We’d practically be fucking. A pang shoots through me, joining a pulsing pressure building in between my legs. Gritting my teeth, I ignore it.

“Not entirely a good girl after all,” Domino remarks, leaning back, his posture casual once more. To any onlooker, at least. I can feel the tension ripping through him, and I have a terrifying suspicion that I’m not the only one smothering an ache.

Though, as if to counter the mere possibility of him being unable to resist me, he brings his hand to his mouth, taking the pad of his thumb between his lips.

My throat goes dry as I realize where that finger has been.

“One day, you’ll beg me to take you there.” He says it so casually I’d laugh were he any other man. But his tone lacks the pleading desperation theirs would carry. He’s so confident of the inevitable he doesn’t even bother to put effort into stating as much.

He’ll take me there.

“Ticktock,” I manage to croak. “I only have four days to prove how good I can be after all.”

His eyes narrow. Sensing his thinning patience, I’ll take this as my cue to leave.

When I ease myself off of him, he doesn’t react, letting me stand on my own.



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