Page 80 of Auctioned to the Devil

“Perfect,” I murmur. “Every damn part of you.”

She arches into me, begging without words. But I don’t rush. I kiss my way down her body again—soft touches that make her skin prickle. When my mouth finds her hip, I bite. She gasps, fingers tangling in my hair.

“Caleb—”

“Shh.” My lips brush over the sting. “Told you I was gonna take my time.”

A strangled sound escapes her as my hands part her thighs. As I settle between them. As my mouth⁠—

“Oh God⁠—”

She arches off the bed, shattering under my tongue. I hold her down, relentless until she’s wrecked and shaking.

I drag myself back up her body, voice hoarse as I press my forehead to hers.

“You still want this?”

She nods, nails sinking into my back.

My lips brush her ear. “Say it.”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes. I’ve never been with another man and I want it to be you. Make me yours.”

I groan, kissing her jaw. “I haven’t been with anyone in more than a decade, Emily. No one has made me feel like you do.”

A growl rumbles in my chest as I roll on top of her again, pulling her bottom lip with my teeth.

“Do you see what you do to me?” I press the tip of my cock to her entrance and watch her legs fall open on their own—ready, wanting.

“Is this sweet pussy hungry for me?” I tease, smiling against her lips.

“Yes,” she breathes, spellbound.

Something raw and protective surges in me.

“I want you.”

I nip her lip again, hands sliding up to cradle her neck as I kiss her slowly. “I’ll go slow.”

A soft hum falls from her lips.

In one move, I push my briefs down and free myself. Her eyes widen; her mouth waters at the sight.

“Are you sure?” I growl.

She nods, then slides her palm over my cock—a touch so honest it nearly undoes me.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” she confesses.

My hand slips under her shirt and finds her soaked.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” I grunt.

I slide myself between her slick folds, groaning at the contact. “You make it so damn hard to control myself.”

She doesn’t answer—just arches into me, begging silently.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” I demand.