A Little Green Magic (The Little Coven #1) - Isabel Wroth Page 0,22

sounds she made of shock and greedy need echoed off the glass ceilings, and all the while Uriah praised her for being perfect, delicious, everything he'd ever dreamed of. When she came, her back arched, her toes cramped, and white lights exploded across her vision.

Seeing stars, panting, gasping for breath, Ivy saw Uriah stand up, his lips and chin glistening with her juices, licking the taste of her orgasm from his skin with a hooded look of utter satisfaction.

He stood over her, palming her backside to scoot her forward that last inch, bringing her still fluttering pussy right up against the unyielding hardness of his cock. She could feel the fly of his jeans rasping against her inner thighs, realizing at some point he must have unzipped. The image of him fisting his cock while pleasuring her was so erotic, she decided she was irritated for not having been able to watch.

Uriah's hand came up to circle her throat, not grasping tight or with the intent to cut off her air, but in a starkly possessive, unbelievably gentle grip, using his thumb to tip her chin up to receive the tender brush of his mouth. Ivy's lashes fluttered, but Uriah held her gaze as surely as he held her throat, the intensity of his focus... it felt like a penetration in and of itself.

“My mate,” he whispered hoarsely, a reverent, commanding declaration. “Yes?”

Later, Ivy would remember this moment and understand that man and bear weren't just asking for her consent, but with the heavy crest of his cock poised to push home, pressing at the riotously sensitive flesh, Ivy wasn't thinking of anything beyond wanting him inside her.

“Yes, yes, please,” she gasped desperately, needing, aching, so ready for more she could barely stand it. Ivy lifted her knees to hug his hips, trying to pull him closer. Uriah gave her neck a careful squeeze, making her feel the throbbing of her own pulse pushing against his hand.

“Look,” he growled, his face twisting in a feral grimace of sublime ecstasy. “Watch.”

Ivy obeyed, looking down in time to watch the flex of his belly as he pushed forward, the softness of her pussy stretching impossibly wide to accept his claim. Uriah took his time, slowly gaining ground, pulling back, forging forward, again and again, holding Ivy perfectly still when she would have twisted and writhed to make him go faster.

Finally, he slid home in one final push, and Ivy felt it from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes. The coarse hair on his chest chaffed at her nipples, his muscles rippled beneath her clenching hands, the bristles of his scruffy beard so coarse in comparison to the softness of his lips, every rough, languid thrust he gave her rattled the bottles on the counter.

So many sensations that added up to a roaring blaze of pleasure so intense, she shattered like glass and came apart with a scream. The entire time, Uriah held onto her, a rock in the storm whipping through her.

Just as her orgasm started to ease and fade, he leaned in and growled in her ear, “More.”

CHAPTER FIVE

For two days, Uriah lavished pleasure after pleasure upon her. When he wasn't feeding her or cuddling her in his big bed or on the couch, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another.

Lunchtime yesterday ranked as one of her top favorite.

After utterly exhausting her that morning, Uriah left her alone long enough for Ivy to grab a recovery nap. When he came back, he gently kissed her awake, and Ivy glanced at the clock on the bedside table to see it was almost two in the afternoon. His shorts got her attention next, because so far, neither of them had bothered to put on a stitch of clothing.

Uriah, because he was a bear shifter and he liked being naked.

Ivy, because Uriah seemed to have a fetish for literally ripping her clothes off. And yes, the rending of her clothes in lustful haste was undeniably arousing, but it meant some of her most favorite comfy clothes had been sacrificed on the altar of pleasure.

Intrigued, Ivy got up at his urging, even more surprised when he dropped a huge tee over her head with a smug, satisfied grunt.

Glancing down, Ivy pinched the gray fabric and stretched it out to read the huge block letters stamped across the front in a rather unflattering shade of orange. “UT?”

Uriah gave a shrug, “University of Texas. I'm not a football fan, but one