his throat with each of her explorations.
Then she came to that about which she had been so curious. Oh, lord. She let her hand wrap around him, and she caressed him slowly, feeling the heat, and the throbbing heartbeat in him.
He groaned, his hips lifting, stroking himself into her grasp. “Yes, Maxine…”
It was instinct. It was an impulse. She didn’t know what she was doing. She knew how men and women enjoyed each other. She spent years in a Roma camp, and she had seen plenty of it by accident. Leaning down, she ran her tongue along his length, tasting him.
He roared, biting back the sound halfway through. She looked up to see his head thrown back, his eyes shut. His fangs were long, caught in a sudden snarl, inspired by the hunger she sensed in him. His sharp-nailed hands grasped the air by her uselessly. She realized he was fighting his desire to grab hold of her. He must not want to scare or rush her.
She ran her tongue along him again and watched his reaction, fascinated and wishing for more. She was…deeply enjoying this, she realized. She took him into her mouth—what she could, anyway—and he let out a broken-sounding howl of pleasure.
He barely fit inside her mouth at all. It was hard to do much else but to focus on the sensation of him there. She pulled him from her mouth to roll her tongue around him once more before repeating the action. How he moaned when she took him into her—it was a beautiful, amazing sound, and she wanted to hear more of it.
This time, he placed his hands on her. One on her shoulder, the other tangling into her hair atop her head. Gently, not hard enough that she couldn’t resist him, he urged her to take more of him into her mouth. She did, and as she reached her limit, he pulled her back. He began to repeat the pattern, showing her the proper rhythm. She stroked what she could not take with her hand.
She had no concept of what she was doing. She was suddenly very eager to learn.
“This is not what I would have expected,” he growled huskily. “You are forever a surprise. Ah—” He broke off in a breathy sigh. “You are perfect. Yes, like that. Oh, Maxine…”
Shutting her eyes, she let herself enjoy him and the strange pleasure she derived from feeling him in her mouth. Of his girth, his warmth, the taste of him. She understood why people did this now. It was bliss. It was power. And she, too, hungered for more.
He urged her away from him after a few long moments, scooping her up to pull her onto the bed with him. Suddenly, she was beneath him, and he was kissing her. Desperately, hungrily—his lips worked over hers as if he would devour her by that means alone.
When he broke off, she was gasping for air. He ran his lips to her ear and nibbled upon the lobe for a moment before speaking. “As much as I hate to pry you away…as I could watch you do that for hours…tonight is about your needs, not mine.”
She had no words for him as he kissed his way down the length of her body, his weight on his elbow as he stroked and caressed her with his other hand. When he reached her navel and threatened to go lower, she froze. “Turnabout is fair play, my dear.” He kissed her right beneath her abdomen.
“I…”
“You’re shy. I understand. There is no shame in this.” He settled himself between her legs. Her face went warm as he parted them to lean his head down to her core. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as he ran his tongue up along her.
Her hand flew to his hair to try to pull him away, but he snatched it and buried it under his palm. Her other hand met a similar fate, leaving her helpless as he explored her.
All thoughts fled as her mind went white with pleasure as he delved his tongue into her. She cried out as he moved north to capture the sensitive bud, rolling his tongue over it. He released her hand, knowing she was not going to fight him any longer. His fingers had another goal. She nearly bucked out from under him as one of his digits took the place of his tongue, allowing him to return his attentions to the rest of her. He knew