Flock (The Ravenhood #1) - Kate Stewart Page 0,92

times before he grips the back of my neck, a harsh exhalation hitting my lips before he kisses me.

Deeply.

So deeply, I struggle for air, for sanity, as he takes and takes and I open for him, my limbs going lax. In his kiss, I lose a part of myself, his words lifting me above ground while his tongue coaxes me into this moment with him. Mouths molding, he lifts my T-shirt, breaking just long enough to bare me fully. And then his lips are back and capture my moan as we fuse. Drunk by the intensity of our exchange, I sink into him, my body lines up with his while he controls our rhythm with his tongue. Cradled, surrounded, my chest rises and falls with him as we drift into the deep end.

Lips drifting, teeth nipping, he latches to my neck and lifts me, pushing his sweats down. Gripping him tight, his grunt hits the back of my throat as I squeeze him from root to engorged tip. He thrusts into my hand before reaching between us to find the evidence of my desire. He groans into my mouth, palming my pussy, the heel of his hand massaging my clit as he presses his finger into me. Breaking from his kiss, a loud moan escapes me as his fingers conquer and my head falls back to fit in the crook of his neck. We work each other into a frenzy before he pulls back, his order clipped.

“Bedside drawer.”

I’m up in a second, plucking a condom from the box, I hurry back to where he sits in his chair. Kneeling, I look up to where he watches me, gripping him in my hand a second before I take him in my mouth. His hips jerk at the contact.

“Fuck,” Dom grits out. I hollow my cheeks and tighten my lips around the length of him before taking him to the back of my throat.

He traces his finger around the stretch of my lips as I suck him deep before my greed gets the best of me and release him with a pop. Rolling the latex on his cock, I lift to stand and he turns me, massaging my ass, spreading me, his fingers probing lower, dipping to ready me. Taking his cue, I grip the handles of his chair as he lines up his thick dick at my entrance, and I slowly sink onto him, the angle and intrusion, stretching me full.

When I’m seated, a gasp escapes me just as a groan bursts from his lips at the nape of my neck. He pushes us away from the desk, his legs anchoring us to the floor before he reclines us back in the chair so I’m practically laying on top of him. He thrusts up just as I begin to move, and I lose my breath, calling out his name.

“You,” he pants, his voice hoarse. The appreciation in that one word is enough. It’s all I need.

He runs his good hand along my chest, cupping my breast before sliding it down to where we connect. His strokes are methodical, slow, thorough. The feel of him is incredible and only adds to my elevation from his admission. This can’t be Dominic.

But it is.

This is him.

Body tense, my suspended toes curl with every thrust. The sensation of him beneath me overwhelming as he fucks me gently, my body gliding along his chest. Rotating my hips, I meet him thrust for thrust until we both snap, needing more. He roots deeper as his finger coaxes me, running up and down my soaked clit. Collectively working together, our breaths the only sound in the room, he dips his finger lower, adding it to the stretch of his cock, and I shudder.

“Dom…G-G-God.”

I’m quivering from head to foot when he bites down on my shoulder. My orgasm crests just as he thrusts up, encouraging me to ride the wave as it rolls through me. It takes every bit of my strength not to go limp once I come down, but the feel of him, his pants at my ear, fuel me and I swivel my hips and dip my hand to squeeze the base of him.

“Damn,” he mumbles as he thrusts up, holding us both off the chair, once, twice, his exhale a total surrender at my neck when he comes.

Dazed, I turn my head to receive his crushing kiss, my temple damp, a thin veil of exertion covering both of us. When we break, we just stare

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