Unshackle (Deliver #7) - Pam Godwin Page 0,68

He knew how to kiss so well it turned her brain inside out, his technique fluctuating between the exquisite softness of his licks and the ferocious bites of his teeth. All she could do was hold on and arch against him, thrusting her breasts against the hard press of his chest and whimpering her cries for more.

He sought, and she gave, mindless against the unstoppable pull to fuse everything of theirs into one—breaths, bodies, souls. He dragged her hips tight to his and clutched her ass with a bruising hand, fingers splayed, owning her over and over.

Nothing in his touch hinted at uncertainty. Only conquering demand and desire. She tasted it in his mouth, felt it in the frantic grip of his fingers, and saw it burning the green depths of his eye contact.

God, she was wet. Rivers of arousal ran hotly between her thighs, squelching where he thrust, lubricating when he drew out and rammed in. Each time he left her, she felt a cold, horrifying emptiness. When he pushed back in, he was like gravity between her legs, a pressure so heavy and intense, so agonizingly wonderful that everything inside her clung to him.

“You’re squeezing me. Strangling my fucking cock.” He embedded himself deeper, a groan breaking from his chest. “Milking me before I’m ready.”

“Stop whining.” She laughed, shifting her hips and bearing down to torment him further. “Try to keep up.”

“Witchy woman.”

“Filthy ginger.”

“That mouth… You wreck me.” He captured her lips, his tongue sweeping in and devouring her next breath.

She could anticipate him now—the tempo of his quickening gasps, the slicking heat of his skin beneath her pressing fingertips, and the building of his thrusts into a rhythm that was entirely his own.

His hand cupped and caressed her breast, making her all the more grateful that he’d taken the time to remove her clothes. She moaned her body’s acceptance with each impassioned kiss, touch, and grind of his hips.

She loved being naked with him, and as the excitement in her blood grew hotter, so did pulsations between her thighs. He was still kissing her, wielding his tongue like an instrument of seduction, licking her deeply, wildly, until she hurt with the need to come.

The hot friction of his cock grew sharper, more centered, and her breath burst forth, giving birth to shooting stabs of pleasure.

It started in the deepest, darkest, most untouchable recesses of her body and spread outward, the unbearable ache peaking and exploding within her.

Her cries were lost to his mouth, her fingers anchoring in hard muscle and knotting in the sweat-dampened hair at the base of his skull. She felt him in her soul, swelling, pulsing, shattering into a million pieces as he surrendered with her.

“Vera, Vera, Vera.” He panted and shook, driving his cock into the back of her cunt, spurting, groaning, and digging himself as deeply as he could possibly go. “It’s never felt like this. Ever.”

They clung to each other long after the tremors dissolved. With his weight on one arm, he held her hand with the other as they lay in a pile of entwined limbs, catching their breaths and floating in their starlit high.

She drifted off to the gentle caress of his lips kissing her face and his fingers tracing the lines of her body.

When she woke, he was sitting up, his attention locked on something behind her.

Approaching footsteps.

As she moved to turn, he caught her shoulder, stopping her from exposing her nude front. “Get dressed.”

Her clothes landed near her head.

He rose and stepped over her, his tension palpable. “What’s wrong?”

Blindly reaching for her underwear, she stole a glance over her shoulder and locked onto Tomas’ golden eyes.

Face pale, posture stiff, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“I need to talk to you,” he said to Luke, his fingers clenching around the phone he held tight to his stomach. “Privately.”

CHAPTER 23

Unease trickled through Luke as he took note of Tomas’ stark expression. “Start talking.”

“This requires…” Tomas glanced at Vera while white-knuckling the phone in his hands. “Discretion.”

“Speak freely in front of her. We had a breakthrough. Didn’t we, Vera?” he called over his shoulder, watching Tomas’ eyes bulge.

“Sure, Luke.” Her clothing rustled behind him as she dressed. “If by breakthrough, you mean we had a come to Jesus, where you underwent the difficult but amazing realization that the reason you’re here is for me, and therefore, I’m in charge from this point forward.”

“We’re still working on her listening skills,” he said to Tomas. “Obedience training takes time.”

She made a