But then, Slade’s lips are there at the nape of my neck. A soft press of his mouth before he starts to pepper feather-light kisses down my back in painstaking inches. I realize, with tears springing to my eyes, that he’s placing his lips between each pair of cut ribbons. There are still some ends hanging on, like hangnails I’ve refused to yank off. The bruising is all healed, and I know that when these last pieces fall off, my back will be smooth and empty, with no sign of what was there before.
In perfect increments, his kisses go down, down, down.
I tremble even harder, my eyes filling with so much emotion that the cave blurs in front of me. His hands come up next, the barest brush of his fingertips soothing the frayed pieces of me I can no longer feel.
His finger skims over the length of my spine, leaving trails of chills in their wake. And as he continues to place tender touches of adoration against my skin, all the shame melts off of me like snow in the sun.
Without saying a word, he’s comforting me. Healing me. Until he’s on his knees, placing the very last kiss against the ruined ribbons at the base of my back, his grip on my hips grounding me to his touch.
When he stands up and turns me around, he lifts his hands to swipe away the tears on my cheeks. “I see you, Goldfinch,” he murmurs, his eyes so full of tenderness that I still can’t believe I’m on the receiving end.
“I see you too, Rip,” I whisper.
My hands drop to the ties of his pants, and unlike the time in the cave when I first woke up, my movements are gentle, slow. Because I want to relish in this moment. I want to take my time.
The outside world—anything outside of the Grotto’s cave—it doesn’t exist.
When the ties are loose enough, Slade toes off his boots and helps me shove down his pants, and then he’s just as nude as I am, but both of us have revealed so much more than just our bodies.
I drag my eyes up his thick muscled thighs to his cock that’s already begun to harden, hanging thick and heavy. With my eyes still locked on it, I slowly lower myself to my knees before him, just as he did for me.
He sucks in a harsh breath as I grip his length in my hand. I take him in my fist, fingertips skating over the softness of his skin even as he hardens beneath my touch. Then I lean in, licking a line up the crown of the head, and his entire body goes rigid.
“Auren—”
Whatever else he was going to say in that mangled tone is cut off as I take him in my mouth. His hands instantly go to my head, fingers threading into my hair. I keep my mouth exploratory for a few seconds, taking him in, licking around the size of him, savoring the way he tastes and the stretch of my lips.
“You’re teasing me,” he rumbles, and I try to smile around him, eyes flicking up. “Suck me, baby. I want to see those cheeks hollow out.”
A flutter sets off in my stomach, and I immediately do exactly what he wants. I suck him, bobbing my head up and down, and the groan that he makes shoots heat right between my thighs.
“Fuck, Auren,” he grits out. “That mouth.”
The thrill I get from the way he comes apart makes me bolder, and I start to suck him down until he reaches the back of my throat. I gag, but Slade’s hands pull my head back slightly. I look up, and his eyes are burning into me with pure carnal hunger. Just like he did with the unbuttoning, he waits, watching me closely, checking on me, making sure I’m okay. The pure trust in that makes me even more eager to make him lose control.
With the right person, there is power when you kneel. There is adoration with submission. There is balance with control.
Which is why I look up at him and say, “Fuck my mouth, Slade.”
His eyes flash with carnal hunger. “Put your hands on my thighs,” he tells me. “Good. I want you to tap me if I get too rough or you need a break.”
I nod, letting him know I understand, and he starts to direct my movements, sliding me back and forth over his cock. He lets me get used to him calling the shots for a few moments, and then he starts to move faster, harder, fucking my mouth as though he craves it fiercely, his movements bold and rough and deliciously erotic as he pumps his hips.
“Yes,” he growls. “This dirty fucking mouth taking my cock so perfectly.” He sweeps my hair up, fisting it in his hand, tugging just enough to keep my head firm, but not enough to hurt. “That’s what you are, you know that? Fucking perfect.”
His hard length bumps the back of my throat again and again, making me gag, making saliva spill from the corners of my lips.
“That’s right, drool all over my cock, baby. Get it nice and wet and sloppy, because I’m going to fuck you with it soon, and I want you dripping.”