Dark Possession - Aja James Page 0,25
eyes just barely able to clear the top of the bed.
A ridiculously beautiful, blatantly aroused Dark King gazed slumberously back at her.
Her eyes immediately homed in on his rampant cock, jutting past his navel, inches from her face. A furiously blushing face that she kept hidden behind the edge of the bed.
His maleness bobbed in greeting, leaking a delicious stream of pre-cum out of that pouty slit in a plump, mushroom-capped, crimson head. Down the long, thick, vein-wrapped column, to a full, heavy sac nestled in a curly thatch of black hair.
Irrelevantly, Eveline noted to self that she definitely preferred males with body hair. She had the almost irresistible urge to rub her face in his inviting crotch.
Could crotches be inviting? Apparently, Ramses’ was.
Unconsciously, Eveline licked her dry lips at the sight.
She was so, so starved.
“Thirsty?” He asked solicitously in that sinful, dark chocolate voice.
She swallowed with an audible gulp.
His chest seemed to shake, and if Eveline was paying attention to anything above his waistline, she would have seen that it was shaking with barely suppressed amusement.
“Hungry?”
He was taunting her. Some self-preserving part of her brain just knew that he was.
Right on cue, his penis bobbed and pulsed again, squeezing out more clear fluid, the fat, juicy head with its winking slit looking directly at her. (If penises could look, that was).
As if to say, come take a good long suck. Eat my cream until you’re full to bursting. I’ll satisfy all of your most wanton and depraved appetites.
Eveline had to physically shake her head to clear it.
Nope, she wasn’t going to fall prey to temptation. She was a high-functioning, intellectually fortified female. She could rise above her baser instincts—
To fuck that fat cock until they were both raw, and oh so deliciously sore.
She slapped her palms over her face at that errant, uncharacteristic thought. One, to smack some sense into herself. Two, to cover her eyes so she could no longer visually eat him alive.
With her face still covered, she squeaked out, “No, I’m good. I have sausages and milk in my apartment.”
“Sausages and milk,” he repeated in a low rumble. “How very… specific.”
Shit! Those were the first things that popped into her head. She was relatively certain she did have those items in her refrigerator, but perhaps she should have mentioned the salad and bread instead.
She wobbled to her feet on unsteady legs, and kept her face covered with her hands, peeking out between her fingers, her eyes darting everywhere but at the gloriously naked male lying on his side facing her on the massive bed.
That they’d apparently shared.
So, her dream wasn’t all imagination?
“I like protein,” she muttered nonsensically. “Iron is good for you. And, you know, calcium too.”
“Hmm,” the sound rippled through him and into her, turning her insides into gooey mush.
“You can have your protein right here, little sprite…”
A single drop of milky fluid pearled at the mouth of his swollen cock.
“Ah…” Eveline stuttered, then swallowed and helplessly licked her lips again.
Only this time, it wasn’t to wet her mouth, it was to collect the drool leaking out the corner so it wouldn’t dribble down her chin.
“…I have a fully stocked refrigerator in the kitchen,” he finished, his voice tinged with laughter.
The devil!
He was knowingly taunting her!
Well, Eveline had far too much self-control to fall for his tricks.
She turned her nose in the air and said with all the snobbishness she could muster, “Keep your sausages and milk to yourself, Dark King. I prefer my own meat.”
She winced right after speaking the words. Did that sound as suggestive as she thought it did?
“It’s the least I can do,” he insisted, “to feed you after taking your vein.”
Absently, she held a hand against her neck, noticing the tenderness of her skin where he bit her.
Her blood pulsed thickly beneath the bruise, just as it thrummed with a heartbeat of its own beneath the hood of her swollen clit.
Her wanton dream must have been induced by his feeding. It was the venom in his saliva that poisoned her blood, making her think such delusional thoughts.
Of naked, sweaty bodies straining against each other.
Thrusting. Arching. Squeezing. Releasing.
“No thank you,” she managed to croak, before turning about face, away from the tantalizing sight of him. “I’d best be going now!”
Blindly, she lurched into action.
And promptly stubbed her toe against the footboard of the bed.
“Look—”
He called out with concern, shifting to a sitting position behind her.
She shuffled her short legs quickly, desperate to get away, and reached for the knob of the