Page 12 of Trapping His Angel

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Page 12 of Trapping His Angel

Her tiny curvy body turned me on.

She was only wearing a pair of panties. It looked like she was exploring herself. I couldn’t help but shove my hand down to my crotch, and massage my throbbing dick. My face was plastered on the vent as I tried to huff her scent.

I wanted nothing more than to be down there, owning her pleasure, claiming it with my tongue, until she couldn’t think of anyone but me. But she wasn’t ready for that…not yet. My gaze trailed over her body, drinking in every inch of her skin like it belonged to me. A scar ran from her shoulder blade down, and I couldn’t stop the dark smile that tugged at my lips.Every mark, every flaw; it’s mine now.

I wondered where she got that from.

I would have to get it out of her while owning her body, one day when we are together in every sense of the word. I wanted to know more about her. Isadora’s hand traveled down her body, and cupped her panty-covered pussy.

I groaned at the sight.

I could cum just now from watching, but I would rather feel mymalen'kiy angelwrapped around me. “What a good girl you are for me,” I whispered in the silence, daydreaming that she was putting on a show right in front of me.

“Ah.” She parted her lips and stuck out her tongue, a silent challenge glinting in her dark blue eyes.

“Dirty girl,” I said, my voice low, carrying just enough of a warning to make her shiver.

She pouted, tilting her head ever so slightly, lashes fluttering like she thought she could soften me with a look. I let my gaze roam her body, slow and deliberate, claiming her with every inch my eye touched. Her skin, dark and flawless, looked like sin against my pale hands, and I couldn’t stop the possessive growl that rumbled in my chest.

I leaned in,pressing a trail of hard, deliberate kisses along her neck and down her collarbone, relishing the way her breathing hitched. She giggled, a teasing sound that made my blood burn, wiggling away like she could escape me.

“Don’t you dare move,” I commanded, my hand gripping her hip to hold her in place. Her laughter faltered, replaced with a look of defiance that I wanted to break and rebuild into something entirely mine.

She slid back onto the dresser, leaning on her elbows as her legs fell open, shameless and inviting. “Please eat me,” she purred, the words dripping from her mouth like honey meant to trap me.

My lips curled into a wicked grin. “With pleasure,” I growled, my voice rough as I moved between her thighs.

I didn’t just touch her; I claimed her, dragging her hips to the edge with a roughness that made her gasp. Her ass fit perfectly in my hands, soft yet firm as I raised her up, tilting her toward my mouth. Her scent hit me, intoxicating and overwhelming, fueling the darker hunger clawing its way to the surface.

Without hesitation, I buried my face between her legs, my nose pressing into her, as my tongue worked her over with fervent intensity. I didn’t just lick or taste; I devoured, dragging my tongue through her folds like I was starving for her. She cried out, her nails digging into my scalp as she clutched at my hair, desperate to hold on to something as I unraveled her.

“Benedikt!” she screamed, her voice raw, my name like a prayer torn from her throat.

I didn’t let up. Her hips bucked, her thighs trembling around my head, as I flicked her clit with relentless precision. The sound of her gasps and pleas was a symphony, and I was the composer, driving her higher, faster, until her body seized. Her cries turned incoherent as she shattered, her release pouring over my face.

I didn’t stop, not until I’d wrung every ounce of pleasure from her, until she was left a trembling, panting mess sprawled across the dresser. I pulled back, my lips slick, my chest heaving. Satisfaction coursed through me as I took in the sight of her, undone and entirely mine.

But my control slipped, just for a moment. The friction of her thighs against my face, the taste of her on my tongue, the sound of her voice had pushed me too far. A growl rumbled low in my throat, as I felt my release spill hot and unbidden, soaking into the fabric of my pants.

I smirked, wiping my face with the back of my hand, before leaning down to press my lips to her trembling thigh. “You’ll clean up the mess you’ve made,” I murmured, dark promise lacing every word.

Panting, I realized that dream had become a reality. I came right in my pants from that fantasy. My overactive imagination ran wild, at the sight of my woman playing with herself.

Isadora was dressed now and lying on the bed. I stayed in the air duct system for a while, watching her exist. How had I lived this long without ever having met her? When the stickiness in my jeans got to be too much, I wiggled backward.

Back the way I had come.

I climbed out of my vent, and took off my clothes immediately. I hopped in the shower and grabbed my soap. As I ran my hand down my body, washing off the sweat and dirt, my cock rose to the occasion.

Greedy little fuck.

Wasn’t orgasming enough, even if it wasn’t in a warm cunt? I grabbed a hold of my cock, and visualized Isadora on her knees for me like a good little girl. She reminded me of my teenage fantasies I had of Rogue from the X-Men. I used to dream of a woman who looked just like her, and Isadora had that in spades. A nerdy man’s fantasy.

I wasn’t sure of her nationality, but her beauty turned me on, so it didn’t matter. I wanted to have my way with her. What was that strange American saying? The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice.

Isadora was a delectable morsel that I wanted to eat whole. Soon she would be mine. Once I knew everything there was to know about her. Sure, I could strike up a conversation, and I would, but I didn’t want her lying to me. Women couldn’t be trusted.

CHAPTER FOUR




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