Her lips parted as her lashes lifted to watch him. The crest slipped inside as her tongue lashed at the underside, stroking sweet fire across the sensitized flesh as she sucked him into her mouth.
He was dying. The suction of her mouth was taking the life right out of him. Soft, heated bliss. Fiery hunger. Her tongue stroked and licked, while she sucked him deep. Soft fingers wrapped around the shaft as far as they would go, pumped it, caressed it, as her other hand moved between his thighs to stroke the taut sac that held his tortured balls.
Never had he needed to come so badly and yet fought the release with such desperation. He wouldn’t come in her mouth. He wouldn’t allow himself to. He wanted to be buried deep inside her, feeling her pu**y clench and tighten around him as he pumped into her.
“Fuck, your mouth. Hot. Sweet.” He was muttering, growling. It was an ecstasy he could barely stand to endure.
“Yeah, baby. Suck it.” His thighs tightened as his hips began to move, to pump shallowly inside her hot little mouth as he fought to relish the sensation of her sweet suckling.
If he could just hold on a few more seconds. One more minute. Just a little while longer.
He watched her face as she sucked him. The way her cheeks hollowed, the flush over her face, her reddened lips. She wasn’t just sucking his cock, she was loving it with every stroke of her lips and tongue. Relishing it. Tasting him with all her senses.
“Enough.” He couldn’t take any more. One more stroke of her tongue against his c**k and he was going to come.
He pulled her head back. Forced her head back as he ignored the mewling little protest that slipped past her lips.
He had to have her. Nothing mattered at this point but taking her. Slipping inside her, feeling the heat and soft acceptance she always gave him.
That was it. The acceptance. Without lies, without asking for anything but pleasure in return, she accepted him.
And he needed it now. Needed her. Beyond the mating heat, because it had begun long before he had ever felt that torturous heat moving through him. He needed her. Her touch, her laughter, her softness. Her acceptance of who and what he was.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed. Laying her on the soft blankets, his lips covered hers as he made short work of the clothes that kept the sweet perfection of her body from him.
God, he loved touching her. Just touching her. Stroking her skin, tasting her kiss, loving her.
He loved her.
That knowledge slipped past his soul from that shadowed corner where he had kept it hidden. Even from himself.
“Sweet love.” He pressed his lips against the mating mark on her shoulder as he moved over her.
She tasted so good there. Each touch he gave her she responded to as though she had been made for him alone. She was his mate. Nature had created her just for him, for no other man in this universe. Her skin ached for his touch; his kiss fueled her desire, just as hers fueled his. She was the other half of his soul, not just his body. Not just his heart.
“Cabal, don’t tease me.” Her breathy tone sent shards of impatience tearing through him.
The soft brush of her thigh against his c**k had pr**cum spilling from the tip. He was on an edge he had never known before. The need to savor her body versus the need to spill inside it. God only knew which hunger would be sated first.
Moving lower, he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue over one hard nipple, then the next. A single taste would never be enough though. He drew the tight tip into his mouth, sucked at it, laved it with his tongue and tasted her until she was arching to him and crying out his name.
Then he couldn’t have one without having the other. He sucked the mate into his mouth with greedy hunger. Sucked it. Worshiped it. God help him, but he couldn’t get enough of her.
“Cabal, you’re killing me,” she cried out, but the pleasure in her voice was enough to spur him on.
He moved lower. Stringing kisses down her torso, along her stomach, he spread her legs and inhaled the sweet, delicate scent of arousal. Of pure heated female.
And he had to taste there as well. The scent of her was pure f**king bliss.
“You taste like summer,” he groaned as he lowered himself between her thighs. “Hot and sweet.”
His tongue swiped through the narrow slit, drawing her juices to it, tasting the incredible need that flowed from her. Never had a woman tasted so sweet or so damned innocent.
She wasn’t tainted by another man’s touch. No other male’s scent lingered on her flesh. She was pure. Fresh. And he needed more of her. So much more of her.
He licked the soft folds, drew them into his mouth. Each taste of her pushed him higher, and he swore he could feel his c**k thickening, growing harder. It felt like pure hardened steel between his thighs, burning to find the haven that only she could provide.
His hands gripped her thighs as she twisted against him, pushed her pu**y closer to his lips and gave him more of her. Her clit was swollen, drawing his tongue. It tasted as sweet and hot as the rest of her. He was burning in the grip of the hunger that filled him now. Every cell in his body was focused on one thing only—Cassa. Her touch, her taste, the feel of her need, the husky murmurs of her desire.