I have a bed there? That might be the dumbest thing I’d ever said. Didn’t mean I would change my mind. If I didn’t have sex with him, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. That was one ‘what if’ I didn’t want to live with.
“I don’t need a bed to make you come, Breanna.”
My nipples pebbled at the promise in his voice. “Prove it.”
He pulled me into his arms and my palms made contact with all that heat, his chest forming a wall of sweet temptation. When I looked up into his face, I felt like a pagan sacrifice presented to a feral god.
The energy coming from him made my palms sweat like a nervous virgin’s.
Someone this big should be clumsy. Instead, his deft hands made quick work of my armor, unfastening both top and bottom so quickly it seemed as if I merely blinked and was naked with nothing on but my boots.
His gaze took me in as he squatted down and wrapped his arms around my thighs to lift me off the ground.
He carried me to the lone medical exam table and sat me down on the edge. With a smile that made me shiver, he adjusted the controls. The examination bed rose into the air until my hips were even with his chest.
He inhaled, deeply, nostrils flaring as if he couldn’t get enough of my scent.
Placing his large palm flat on my chest, he pushed me back until my bare shoulders rested on the bed. “Don’t move.”
Like I had a choice.
He placed my knees up over his shoulders and locked his mouth over my wet core, sucking so hard my back arched up off the table.
His hand came down on my stomach, holding me still as he worked my clit like a master playing his favorite instrument.
Without warning, he thrust two fingers deep and rubbed my clit with his tongue so fast he felt more erotic than my best vibrator back home. One hand clenching his, I moved the other into his gorgeous hair. Made a fist. Pulled him closer. “More.”
His chuckle made me blush. “Not until you beg.”
I wasn’t above begging, not when I was already so close to the edge. “Please.”
“Not good enough.” Our gazes locked as he fucked me with his fingers. Slow. Then fast. No rhythm I could adjust to, just unexpected thrusts. Stretches. When he slipped a third finger inside my backside, the moan that left my throat sounded like a wounded animal’s. I was so close. I couldn’t think straight. Nothing existed but him. Those eyes watching me. His fingers inside me. The glistening moisture on his wet lips.
That was me on his lips.
As if he knew exactly what I was thinking, he licked them, slowly, as if savoring the taste of my pussy. With a grin I was beginning to recognize, he lowered his mouth to my core again and got back to work, licking and sucking, tasting and teasing, until I was a writhing mess. Every time, just as I was about to peak, he would stop. Watch me. Wait for the pinnacle to retreat and start again.
As soon as I got off this table, I was going to kill him. “Mikos!” My protest was breathless, barely decipherable as a word, but he heard and understood.
“Good. Say it again.” He lowered his head and licked my clit, spread his fingers to rub a sensitive spot along the inside of my pussy wall I hadn’t realized was there.
“Mikos!” This time, his name was a moan. This time, he sucked my clit into his mouth and laved it with his tongue.
Sensation roared through my body. Too much. Too strong.
I squirmed to escape the onslaught, but it was too late. My orgasm ripped through me like lightning, short-circuiting my muscles. My feet curled inside my boots. I dug my heels into his back.
My pussy spasmed, out of control, my nerves firing like a machine gun.
One moment his mouth was on my clit, the next his fangs sank deep into my inner thigh.
“Fuuuu…”
His essence hit my bloodstream, burning its way through me as if I had injected whiskey straight into my veins. Fire, followed by heat. Bliss. My fingers curved into claws as I fought for something to hold onto, anything to anchor me, as reality disappeared in an explosion of pleasure I never would have believed existed.
Before I could adjust, his mouth was gone. His fingers, gone. Between one heartbeat and the next his cock thrust deep, filling me, stretching me to the brink of pain, then beyond. But the fire in my blood was there, easing his way, stealing the discomfort and replacing it with desire. Need. I was out of control. Out of my mind. There was no intellect left, just lust. Craving. Stabbing pleasure that began in my core and echoed through my entire body with each thrust of his hips.
He wrapped his huge hands around my hips and moved in and out of my body like a machine. Hard. Fast. Relentless.
