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He releases me and my head falls back as I draw in heaving breaths.

“I love the sounds you make,” he drawls.

Casper dives back in, this time increasing the pressure of his suction, and my moan crescendos at the sudden escalation.

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbles against my pussy.

He pops off me just as I’m about to come, and blows a gentle stream of air over my swollen clit. My thighs threaten to squeeze together, needing some kind of friction, but he holds them open—it’s exquisite agony.

“So good . . .” Casper chuckles in amusement, teasing me with the tip of his tongue, offering barely-there touches when I want him to do his worst. His soft laps are holding me right on the edge. The way his mouth explores has my back arching—feeling alive among the dead, reawakening every sexual desire I’ve buried over the years.

When his lips lock on my clit and he sucks again, the sensation doubles. I gasp and the hand cupping above my knee grips, pushing down and spreading my legs wider, allowing him to press his face into my pussy. Casper doesn’t just eat, he devours—when he’s finished, there will be nothing left of me.

I’m so close. My chest heaves, hips lifting off the ground as the tension in my core winds tighter and tighter, yet it won’t snap. Fuck!

The ache is almost too much to bear as my orgasm hovers just out of grasp. I’m right there . . . Casper must sense my struggle, because he aims his sinful gaze right at me and gives me a reassuring squeeze, a silent reminder that he’s not going anywhere. It’s the extra “You can trust me” that does it.

A broken cry slips out of me as I come. My orgasm crests and I squeeze my eyes shut but it’s all so bright, and for a brief moment I disappear in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me. He’s relentless. Casper doesn’t quit until he’s wrung every last shiver out of me and I collapse on the ground, completely spent.

His tongue licks me clean and it’s not until the bite on my thigh that the present sharpens into focus again. I flinch. When he sits up, I can’t help but laugh at the way his face glistens with me.

“Told you I was a messy eater,” he says boldly.

He drops down beside me and I wipe his cheeks off, then kiss him, his tongue lapping against mine. I love tasting myself on him, but more than anything, I want to taste him too.

I clumsily rise to my feet, holding out my hand for him, and he stands with me. I walk him backward until his back hits the tree trunk behind us. I drop to my knees in front of him and he curses.

I toy with his belt buckle. “May I?”

“Duchess, never ask me that again,” he says, allowing me to unfasten the clasp and push down his jeans and underwear. His thick cock bobs out, and I startle as soon as I wrap my fist around his length.

The ladder takes me by surprise. “You’re pierced?”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just, um . . .” It’s just that I’m really out of practice and feel like I’m being thrown into expert mode with the final boss of all dicks. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

“We can wait,” he suggests, reaching for his boxers. I’m almost offended by his lack of disappointment and willingness to give up.

“Please?” I encircle his length, allowing the pads of my fingers to roll over the curved bars. “Let me suck your cock, Casper.”

His jaw clenches as he stares down at me, he caresses my cheek. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty,” he murmurs like it’s an escaped inner thought. After a moment he clears his throat and adds, “You can stop anytime, for any reason. Or tap my leg if you want me to stop or⁠—”

“I’m not going to break,” I assure him with a wink, knowing he’s being extra cautious with me. I appreciate his protective nature, but this will be more fun for both of us if he relaxes. I’m going to have to prove how much I really want this—and I really fucking want it.

My pulse quickens, nerves tingling with excitement as we drink each other in, and I stick out my tongue, starting slow and licking from his balls to the tip of his cock, then with the hint of a smile on my lips, take his entire length into my mouth. The way his voice catches on the word fuck is like a desperate prayer. Even on my knees I hold all the control.

I moan, gliding my lips over the bars, relishing the way his knuckles bloom white as he attempts to grip the bark of the tree behind him. It takes me a moment to get a feel for the piercings and where they land in my mouth, especially since they’re on the top side. I can’t help imagining how incredible they would feel stretching other parts of me.

My tongue flicks over the crown, licking along the flared edge, and I bob over him with hollowed cheeks, keeping a steady rhythm while circling the base of his balls with my fingers and gently tugging.

He growls, pinning me with a stare. “If this is what out of practice looks like, I’m in fucking trouble.”

I hum, taking him to the back of my throat and reveling in his groans. Saliva pools in my mouth as I strain to bring him deeper. He tries to back off when I gag, so I grab his ass and pull him into me as I choke, tears building in the corners. “Goddamn, look at you,” he mutters. Drool escapes the corner of my mouth and he swipes it across my cheek with his thumb. “You make such a sloppy mess when you stop acting so polished.”

I pop off him, sucking in a breath and returning again, getting settled into a pace he seems to enjoy, based on the way he battles to keep from thrusting his hips. I look forward to the day when he turns savage. His sharp inhale makes my eyes dance with amusement. The sounds he makes, the movements, the way he marvels when I take charge, and knowing he’s dying to fuck me—I can’t get enough.

“Shit, I’m close,” he pants.