The Rise Of Fire (Teaser)

He dropped to his knees between mine, pressing them apart with both hands until I was open for him. His grip firm, holding me in place. Holding me open. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. My head fell back against the cushion, throat bared, surrender already written across my skin.

The slip rode up my thighs. Nothing underneath. Air kissed me where I was wet, exposed.

Arman looked at me like I was prey and prayer all at once. Then he bent forward and kissed me there, slow, hungry. The heat of his mouth drew a moan straight from my chest.

“I want you to spin out.” he said against me, voice low, almost a growl. “I want you to beg.”

His shoulders filled the space between my thighs, broad and unyielding. I felt the weight of him there, holding me open, taking every inch of me for himself.

His hands pressed firm against my center now, keeping me spread wide, and then his fingers parted me further. The air was cool on my skin for a heartbeat, then his tongue was there.

He licked me in long, unbroken strokes, slow at first, from the tight ring of my ass all the way up to my clit. The glide of it made my back arch against the chair. Then he did it again. And again. A steady, relentless rhythm that had me trembling.

I moaned, unable to stop it, my head falling back as the sensation stacked higher and higher. He was not teasing me. He was consuming me, stripping me bare with the deliberate drag of his tongue.

Each pass left me more raw, more vulnerable. My thighs quivered in his grip, but he held me open, gave me no chance to hide. I had never felt this exposed, never felt this undone, and the heat of it broke me open further.

My pulse throbbed in time with him, every stroke building, every lick pulling me closer to the edge.

My eyes fell shut. The world narrowed to the press of his hands and the steady drag of his tongue.

I gave up trying to hold myself. My thighs shaking, but he kept them wide, palms firm against my skin, claiming the shape of me. I was open, exposed, and he never let me forget it.

He kept moving, unbroken, licking me from the tight ache of my ass up through the slick heat of my pussy to the swollen peak of my clit. Again and again, steady and deliberate. The same path each time, relentless, as if he wanted to rewire me with nothing but his mouth.

The rhythm built into me, a pulse that swallowed thought. My chest rose in sharp, shallow breaths. I moaned, louder now, every sound torn out without my permission.

I was his. Fully.

And the more he held me open, the more I surrendered.

I kept my eyes closed, letting the rhythm take me apart, his tongue dragging me open from ass to clit in slow, relentless strokes. The world dissolved into nothing but wet heat and the grip of his hands on me.

I don’t know when the air in the room changed. A ripple. A weight.

When I finally opened my eyes, Elle and Jonas were there.

They stood in front of me, close enough that I could see the rise and fall of their breath. Elle’s hand traced slowly down Jonas’s chest, his hand settling on her hip, their bodies brushing as if the only thing holding them upright was each other. Their eyes stayed fixed on me and Arman. Watching. Drinking it in.