statement shook him. He watched over everyone. She’d done this before. With Fridrick in the garage. She’d tried to protect him. He couldn’t remember that ever happening. He’d lost most memories of his family. They hadn’t been with him long enough to leave many. Mostly the Carpathian community had raised him. The raising had consisted mainly of training him. His most treasured memory had been watching his father carve wood into beautiful things for his mother. He used his hands, not his mind, to make things. Although he’d been ridiculed by some of his peers, Tariq had chosen to do the same thing.
Charlotte kissed his jaw and then his throat. He wasn’t certain his heart could take the way she moved her body over his. She straddled him, pressing her hot core into his flesh, branding him with scorching heat as she kissed his chest. Her tongue licked over the spot where he’d drawn the line, opening his veins for her.
Do you want more, sielamet? I belong to you. If you hunger, I provide. He couldn’t stop himself; he slid one hand between her lips and his chest, his fingernail lengthening, sharpening, so that he could give her his very essence.
The little beads welled up. Tempting. Enticing her with his scent. She had to feel his hunger—it was there in his mind when he spoke to her. His need of her. His want. He craved her, and he wanted her to sip from him. To take enough for an exchange.
She licked at the ruby drops, her eyes on his, and his body reacted. She was the epitome of a beautiful, sensuous creature. She licked again and then deliberately latched onto him with her mouth. Sucking. Trying to draw out more. All the while her gaze stayed on his. He knew the true meaning of sexy just watching her. Her hips moved on him, a slide of heat and fire that threatened his control, but when he caught her hips to settle her over the straining weight of his cock, she refused to allow it. She reprimanded him with her eyes, and he immediately forced his hands to stop, to just curl into her hips and wait to see what she wanted. When she’d taken enough from him for a second exchange, he slipped his hand between her mouth and his chest, closing the laceration as he did so.
She licked over the line several times and then kissed him there. Her mouth settled over his nipple, teeth tugging gently. He felt that fire shoot an arrow straight to his cock. He reached down to settle his fist around the thick spike. His need for her was brutal now, but he refused to take the control away from her. He wanted to see what she would do, what she had in mind.
Her kisses followed the path of each muscle in his abdomen as she slid down his body, right past where he wanted her to settle. Instead, she wedged her body between his legs, her mouth finding his belly button and then nipping at the skin just below it.
His breath left his lungs in a rush when her breath was on the head of his cock. Warm. Heated. Such a sensation he couldn’t have ever imagined. She licked as he held himself tight in his fist. Licked at the drops leaking there, licked all around the top of the sensitive crown. Licked under it, hitting a spot that nearly took the top of his head off the pleasure was so great.
“Relax, Tariq. Let me take care of you for a change. You’re so tense.” The admonishment was whispered against his cock, her tongue and lips sliding over and around the large, velvety head.
One finger tugged at his hand and he instantly got the hint. She didn’t want his help. He let go and her fingers curled around his shaft, low, toward the very base. At the same time, her mouth engulfed him. He nearly came off the bed. Hot. Tight. She drew him deep, her tongue lashing and curling around him. Stroking. Caressing. Massaging. Her other hand cupped his sac, rolling gently, and then her tongue was there.
She never took her gaze from his. Watching her added to his pleasure. She loved what she was doing. He knew it was a gift. He felt that in his mind, the way she relished giving him pleasure, taking care of him, taking the tension from him. Her mouth went back to working his cock