And he wanted nothing more than to give it to her.
Isabelle had known. She should have known. Where there was smoke, there was fire, her father had always said. The tabloids were filled with the stories of a mating addiction. A heat that human women couldn’t resist. One that bound the Breed male to her. One that created an endless, sensual feast for the couple.
That knowledge was a distant thought, a realization she couldn’t hold on to as Isabelle felt Malachi’s lips surround the tight, puckered tip of her breast.
She stared down at him, dazed, the pleasure she had felt before, with no more than the briefest caress, rising, becoming deeper, becoming something more binding.
The feel of his hot, sucking mouth tugging at her nipple was almost a pleasure-pain. Heat bloomed in the tender tip, radiated outward and rushed to her pu**y, where her clit throbbed with violent demand.
His tongue rubbed against the sensitive point, then with quick, hard little licks flicked over it, lashing at it as a surge of pleasure and excitement sent fingers of electric sensation through her, clenching her womb and spilling her juices between her thighs.
She was so wet. So hot. She could feel the slick proof of her need for him as it slickened her thighs and swelled the folds of her pu**y in anticipation.
Moving from one breast to the other, his lips played in exacting detail at the tight little bud. He sucked and licked, flicked at it with his tongue, and with whatever addictive quality she had tasted in his kiss, he sensitized her ni**les further.
She had felt the swollen glands beneath his tongue as she suckled at it for those few brief seconds. She had tasted his kiss, redolent of a fire in winter with the spice of a summer rainstorm thrown in it.
Her fingers tightened in his hair as he released the tip, only to spread his kisses down her torso as his hands stroked to her thighs and parted them slowly.
Against the outside of her leg, Isabelle could feel the thick, heavy width of his c**k and almost felt the fear that wanted to rise inside her. But there was no place for inhibitions as his fingers trailed higher, slid through the slick essence of her hunger then brushed against the curls that hid the swollen flesh from him.
His lips moved to her hipbone, then to the other before kisses were scattered to the sensitive mound of her pu**y. His fingers tucked against the slit as she arched closer to him, desperate now to feel his kiss, his touch, on every portion of her body.
“Malachi,” she moaned, the dark, sexual tone of her voice almost shocking her.
His fingers eased down the narrow crease between the folds of her pu**y to find the hidden entrance where her juices pooled with silken heat.
His finger rotated as he moved lower, lying between her thighs, his breath whispering over the swollen bud of her clit.
That tiny caress, like a heated breeze blowing over the too sensitive bundle of nerves. Isabelle found herself jerking in reaction, her hands slapping against the mattress to curl into the blankets beneath her.
His head lowered.
Isabelle watched, entranced, as his tongue peeked out and licked over the tiny pleasure point with devastating results.
“Oh God, Malachi,” she cried out, her knees bending and lifting, her legs parting farther as he drew her clit into his mouth and began suckling with quiet, hungry greed.
She had never done this before. She had never lain so open, knees bent and thighs spread, and given any other man permission to touch her intimately.
The fingers rubbing gently at the entrance to her vagina began pushing inside her.
His lips and tongue were torturing her clit with pleasure, and as Malachi begin to push his fingers inside her, she felt herself unraveling.
Two large fingers pushed in, twisting lightly, scissoring and stretching her open. She felt them rasp against the tender inner nerve endings and send impulses of pure pleasure racing through her.
Every cell vibrated with the rush of sensation. Isabelle could feel the sensations coalescing, tightening, threatening to implode inside her as he began thrusting his fingers shallowly into the snug opening.
She could feel the pressure on the fragile shield of her virginity as his fingers began stretching it, weakening it.
“Malachi,” she moaned again as one hand slid beneath her rear, arching her higher to his lips and to the finger penetrating her sex. “It’s so good. It feels so good.” She couldn’t keep it in. She needed him too much. Needed every touch possible with every fiber of her being.
He sucked her clit deeper into his mouth, his tongue rubbing against it now as the thrusting fingers began to move inside her with more demand, sending lightning-fast forks of sensation to tear through her womb, her clit and her pu**y.
“Fuck me!” She cried the words out, desperation laced with demand, but she had no idea where they’d come from. “Oh God, Malachi, I need you. I swear I’ve needed you all my life.”
A growl rumbled against her pu**y.
Her pu**y tightened on the invading fingers as they slid free of her, then Malachi’s head was lowering, his hands lifting her closer . . .