Lightning flashed again, sending flares of light flickering over the savage planes of his face. Taut, hard, his expression was filled with lust, with hunger, as he pressed the wide crest to her parted lips.
"Suck it, Sugar," he groaned. "Give me that tight little mouth, love."
A slow, shallow thrust buried the hard, burning head of his c**k inside her mouth and dragged a low, hard groan from his chest.
Storme could sense the hunger flowing from him. He burned with it, his c**k throbbed hard and tight with it as her tongue curled over the head, stroking as she licked, loving the taste of him, the feel of him.
As he held the hard flesh for her to work her mouth over the engorged tip, Storme's hands were free to roam. As rain poured over them, ran down his chest, to his thighs and around the thrusting length of his dick, her hands caressed and stroked the warmth of his thighs.
Dipping between them, she found the tight, drawn sac of his balls, caressed them and shivered at the sound of the harsh, rough rumble of pleasure that reached her ears.
The hand that held tight to her hair moved her head as he f**ked her lips, while he held the base of the shaft with the other. Storme could feel the heavy pulse and throb of blood beneath the heavily veined flesh. Each minute pulse of pr**cum that shot into her mouth was filled with the taste of cinnamon and male heat.
Unique. Heated, the taste of him seemed to fill her senses with the flush and power of a narcotic. It rushed to her head with each pulse of blood to her brain and struck a match to the intoxicating, explosive power of the arousal that flooded her.
She was drowning in him.
Her tongue licked and stroked over the engorged c**k as each heavy throb of the unusual ejaculation spurted against her tongue. She tasted and relished. She suckled at the hard flesh, moaning as her fingers slid to the swollen, sensitive bud of her clit.
It burned, throbbed. The swollen bud was so tight and hard it was nearly painful as she stroked and rubbed against the side of the sensitive knot of nerve endings.
"Such a sweet f**king mouth," he groaned, his voice as harsh, as deep as the sound of thunder, muted and low in the distance now. "Suck it hard, baby. Let me feel that hot little tongue loving the hell out of my dick."
And she was loving it. She was intoxicated with it.
She took it as deep as possible, feeling the hard pulse of the wide crest at the back of her throat before retreating to lick at the head once again.
His fingers kneaded her scalp as his thighs bunched and tightened and his c**k seemed to harden further, the crest throbbing as though swelling further between her already stretched lips.
"Damn. Enough baby."
Styx jerked back. He could feel the knot pulsing in the tight flesh of his cock, closer to the surface, threatening to expand and swell with each hard pulse of pr**cum he released into her mouth.
He could feel her heat rising, smell it in the storm-drenched air around them.
It wasn't mating heat, but it was damned close. Rich, filled with spice, heated and tempting, it went to his head. Staring down at her, he watched as she pulled back, staring up at him as she licked over the head of his dick, the illumination of the slowly emerging moon gleaming over her pale face and the long, sodden silk of her hair as it flowed down her back.
She looked like a wood nymph, a sexy, sensual little temptress dragging him into a lust-filled adventure that threatened to destroy his self-control.
"Ah, lass," he groaned, unable to hold back the words as she sucked the head of his c**k back into her mouth. "That's my sweet Storme."
Never had he known such pleasure. Never had he scented such need and hunger from his lover, and it wasn't even mating heat.
This was pure need, rich and hot, tightening his balls and sending fingers of electric sensation racing up his spine.
As she cupped his balls with one hand, the tips of her fingers playing over the taut sac, he was aware of her stroking herself, the smell of her rich cream filling his senses until he wondered if he could survive the pressure.
One damned thing was for sure, another minute in her mouth and he was going to come for her.
It took all the self-control he possessed to pull her head back and draw her to her feet. Swaying in front of him, her lips reddened and swollen, green eyes darkened and glittering with hunger, she looked like a woman lost in the pleasure she was giving her lover.
"Lass, give to me," he groaned as he turned her again, pressing against her back to bend her over the high trunk of the tree.
Her breath caught, but it was in excitement rather than fear as he tucked the head of his c**k against the swollen, saturated folds of her pu**y.
"There, love," he crooned, aware of the rough, deepened sound of his voice. "Let me have you. If I don't bury my dick in your sweet wee pu**y, then I may not survive the night."
He would have preferred their bed, but there was no way he would last the time it would take to return her to the cabin before f**king her.