Bend Her (The Transformation Trilogy, #1)

by Cassie Alexander

“I’m going to open you, little moth,” he warned me, a moment before he did so with his hands, reaching in to press my thighs wide with his palms, exposing my innermost parts.

I knew where his lips would be next, there was no other place left for them to go.

“Please.” “Yes,” he said, closing his eyes before kissing me at my seam.

I gasped then let out a long exhale, as his lips and tongue began to search me, touching unfamiliar places, in unfamiliar ways.

Then he made a noise against me, a sound of satisfaction like he found me delicious, and he pushed a hand up my belly to lift and tilt it back so that he might eat me more easily, and it washed that thought away.

His lips sucked, his tongue pushed, his chin ground, and then he looked up, catching me watching.

I didn’t want to be fit for civilized society. I didn’t want men like Vethys to think they could ever take me back.

He said, “I swore I wouldn’t hurt you—and I would taste you more,” and he did.

I could feel his lips touching me as he spoke and feel the press of his hot breath. I started to pant and my ass began to clench.

“Rhaim—sir,” I breathed, as his lips sucked and his tongue rolled, and I couldn’t help myself—I ran my hand into his hair and held him there. “Sir,” I begged him, not even sure what I was asking for, only that I knew I needed.

He growled into me, as my hips rocked against his face. His eyes were closed as he worked upon me, but his arms were wrapped around my thighs now, tilting my hips up for his consumption. Then one of his hands stroked up and cupped a breast, running his thumb across its nipple.

I knew, because I looked down and saw him bowed over me, his mouth riding my hips as they moved in waves, his dark eyes finally full of readable emotion. He—wanted—to give me—this. All I had to do was—take it.

“Sir!” I shouted, as another crashed through me, and he started making a low, guttural moan between my legs as his mouth followed all my movements, his tongue relentless as it pressed me through. “Sir—sir—oh—sir,”

She’d tasted of the milk and honey of the bath, and then her own earthy flavor once I had licked her clean. My attentions had left her dripping like a fountain, and after the guilt I felt, I wanted to make her wet enough to wash my soul.

My cock had been straining against my breeches, so ready to slide in and take her, the way her body had wanted to be taken—so much so she even knew it when she’d said as much.

That had not stopped me from feasting on her.

Each time she made a sound, each time she shuddered, each time she whispered my name like it was the only word she knew, my fat cock twitched like it wanted to escape and ravish her.

I leaned in, and over, and made sounds equal to hers, throbbing with the same need as she did, as she rubbed her perfect, greedy pussy on my face.

“Sir—sir,” she sang, as even more sweet juices released and her thighs trembled against my jaw. I followed her, pressing her down, sucking, tasting madly, which brought my own hips against the tub’s walled side, and it only took one touch, one inadvertent grind—I moaned low into her as my cock pulsed, spilling out my seed, grunting with each twitch.

“Did you do magic, little moth?” I wondered. “I did,” she said and sweetly smiled. “It was amazing.”