"Less talking," I managed, pulling him down. "More touching."
"Yes ma'am." His grin widened, and then his mouth was on mine. Levi kissed like he did everything else—with enthusiasm and joy and an infectious energy that made me want to smile even as my body burned. His lips were soft, tasting faintly of honey, and his tongue slid against mine with a playfulness that was somehow both sweet and devastatingly erotic. He nipped atmy lower lip, soothed the sting with his tongue, then dove back in for more.
His hands didn't stay still. They roamed over my body with curious, eager touches—tracing the curve of my waist, the swell of my hips, the soft skin of my inner thighs. Every touch was light, teasing, designed to make me squirm and gasp and want more.
"God, you're beautiful," he breathed against my mouth, pulling back just enough to look at me. His eyes traced over my body, lingering on the marks on my neck, the bruises on my hips, the evidence of what I'd already done with his packmates. "Look at you. All marked up and messy and perfect. Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this?"
"Tell me," I gasped as his fingers traced lazy patterns on my inner thigh, so close to where I needed him but not quite touching.
He pressed a kiss to my jaw, my neck, the hollow of my throat. "You were so guarded but you had this look on you that just made me want to hold you and make me protect you.
"Levi—" I tried to speak, but his mouth had found my breast, and the words dissolved into a moan. He lavished attention on my breasts with the same enthusiastic thoroughness he brought to everything. His tongue swirled around my nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak before sucking it into his mouth. The pressure was perfect, firm enough to make me arch into him, gentle enough to leave me wanting more.
"So responsive," he murmured against my skin, switching to the other breast. "I love that. Love watching you react. Love knowing I'm the one making you feel this way." He caught my nipple between his teeth, tugging gently, and I cried out, my hands flying to his hair. "That's it, beautiful. Let me hear you. Want to hear every sound you make."
He kissed down my body with agonizing slowness, pausing to explore every inch of skin. He found the stretch marks on my hips and traced them with his tongue, murmuring about how beautiful they were. He pressed kisses to the soft curve of my stomach, nuzzling against it like a cat seeking affection. He discovered a ticklish spot on my ribs and filed it away with a mischievous grin, promising to exploit it later.
By the time he settled between my thighs, I was trembling with need, my hands fisted in the sheets, my hips rolling against nothing.
"Please," I begged. "Levi, please?—"
"Shh, I've got you." He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. "Going to take such good care of you. Going to make you feel so good you forget your own name." His eyes met mine, bright with promise. "But first, I want to taste you. Been dreaming about it. Can I?"
"Yes—God, yes—" He lowered his mouth to me with a groan of satisfaction, like he was the one being given a gift. His tongue traced through my folds, gathering the wetness there—my arousal mixed with the releases of his packmates—and he moaned like it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.
"Fuck, you're sweet," he breathed against me. "Sweeter than honey. Could eat this pretty pussy all day." His tongue found my clit, circling it with light, teasing strokes. "Would you like that? If I just stayed here between your thighs, making you come over and over until you couldn't take any more?"
"Levi—" I gasped, my hips bucking against his mouth. He laughed, the vibration making me shudder, and then he got to work. Where Garrett had been consuming and intense, Levi was playful and thorough. He explored me with his tongue like he was mapping uncharted territory, cataloging every spot that made me gasp, every touch that made me moan. He seemed to genuinely delight in my pleasure, making happy little soundsagainst my flesh, his fingers digging into my thighs to hold me open for him.
"That's it, beautiful," he murmured against me, his tongue flicking against my clit. "You taste so good. Sound so pretty when you moan for me. Such a good girl, letting me take care of you like this."
His words sent heat racing through me, and I could feel the orgasm building, coiling tighter with every stroke of his tongue. He seemed to sense it too, because he increased his pace, sucking my clit into his mouth while two fingers slid inside me, curling to find that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes.
"Come for me," he encouraged, his voice warm and eager. "Want to feel you come on my tongue. Want to taste how sweet you are when you fall apart. Can you do that for me, gorgeous? Can you be a good girl and come?" I shattered with a cry, my thighs clamping around his head, my hands yanking his hair. He moaned against me, working me through it with eager strokes of his tongue, drinking down everything I gave him like it was nectar.
But he didn't stop there.
"One more," he said, grinning up at me with a slick chin and bright eyes. "You can give me one more, can't you? I know you can. You're doing so well." Before I could respond, his mouth was on me again, and his fingers were pressing deeper, and I was hurtling toward another peak before I'd even come down from the first. He played my body like he'd been studying it for years, finding every sensitive spot, exploiting every weakness, driving me higher and higher until I came again with a scream that left my throat raw.
He gentled then, pressing soft kisses to my trembling thighs, my mound, the crease where my leg met my hip. When he finally crawled up my body, his face was wet and his smile was triumphant.
"Hi," he whispered, hovering over me. I laughed weakly, reaching up to wipe some of my slick from his chin. "Hi yourself."
He kissed me, and I could taste myself on his tongue—sweet and musky and intimate. His body pressed against mine, and I could feel how hard he was, his cock straining against his sweatpants, hot even through the fabric.
"Need you," I murmured against his lips, my hands pushing at his waistband. "Need to feel you inside me."
"Yeah?" He helped me shove his sweatpants down, kicking them off somewhere into the chaos of the nest. "Need me to fill you up? Need me to make you feel good?"
"Please, Levi—" He positioned himself at my entrance, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my slick folds. He was beautiful, long and flushed pink, curving upward toward his stomach, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.
"Look at me," he said softly, and I met his silver-gray eyes. "Want to see your face when I push inside you. Want to see how good I make you feel." He sank into me slowly, inch by inch, and I watched his expression shift—his eyes fluttering, his lips parting, a low groan escaping his throat. The stretch was exquisite, his length filling me completely, and when his hips finally pressed flush against mine, we both let out shaky breaths.
"Oh fuck," he breathed, his forehead dropping to mine. "You feel incredible. So hot and wet and tight. Like you were made for me. Like I was made to be inside you."
He started to move, and it was nothing like what I'd expected. Levi fucked like he was worshipping me. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, angled to drag against every sensitive spot inside me. He kept his eyes on my face, watching my reactions, adjusting his rhythm based on every gasp and moan. When I whimpered, he did whatever he'd just done again. When I cried out, he grinned and filed it away for later.
"That's it, beautiful," he murmured, his hips rolling in a rhythm that was driving me slowly insane. "Taking me so well. Feel so perfect wrapped around my cock. You like this? Like the way I fill you up?"
