His smile was wicked. “I’m a man who likes to feast.”
The taste of Pippa…it was indescribable. The best damned thing he’d ever sampled.
And she seemed to be enjoying his feast as much as he was. Although she hadn’t said it, he guessed from her shocked expression that she’d never had her pussy licked before. Yet another failing to lay at her cursed husband’s door. At the same time, Cull couldn’t deny that he liked being the first to give her this pleasure. The first to experience her delicious response.
Her fingers clenched in his hair, and he would have chuckled at her feminine demand if he wasn’t otherwise occupied. She’d come again for him, her honey coating his lips as he’d licked and suckled her little pearl. He could tell she was on the verge once more…in working order indeed.
The woman had so much passion in her that it was a wonder she didn’t burn him alive. And he’d be happy—no, bloody ecstatic—to go up in her flames. His cock felt like a throbbing iron bar, his bollocks pulled up taut. He’d never been this hard, this full of want.
When she’d kissed his cheek, the warmth of her lips had seeped through his numb layers, touching the part of him that had hungered for her light from the moment he’d clapped eyes on her fourteen years ago. To experience the sweetness of the girl rolled up with the passion of the woman was…he didn’t have words for what he felt.
Lust and desire and something more. Something he’d never had. Something that was his for the moment, and he wasn’t bloody going to waste it.
He parted her sunny thatch, swiping his tongue along her slit.
“Cull,” she moaned.
His erection twitched. God, the sound of his name on her lips.
“I think,” he said thickly, “that I’ve found my favorite meal.”
Feeling her shiver, he delved deeper, licking into her tight passage. When she clenched around his tongue, he groaned. He diddled her love-knot while he ate her, her moans driving him on.
“Spend in my mouth now,” he growled. “I want the taste of you sliding down my throat.”
“Heavens,Cull.”
She shrieked, coming in a honeyed gush, and he showed his approval by lapping up every drop.
When she sagged against the cushions, a sated glow upon her face, he sat on the bench next to her, pulling her close. Burying his nose in her fragrant hair, he strove to master himself. He was so aroused that he feared he might spill in his pants like an untried greenling. He concentrated on not unmanning himself…and jerked when her fingers feathered over his pulsing length.
“I want to see you,” she whispered. “May I?”
Bloody hell, yes.
“If you’re certain you want to,” he managed.
Her eyes sparkled as she nodded.
He needed no further urging. He undid the fasteners, grimacing a little as he brushed his granite-hard prick. As he lowered the flap and shoved down his smalls, his erection fell out, the head glossy and engorged. When she delicately fisted him, a groan raked up his throat.
“You’re very large,” she said. “I can barely get my fingers around you.”
He got even bigger at her words, at her light, too-careful touch. “You make me this way.”
“Truly?”
He would have laughed at her pleased expression if her stroking wasn’t driving him mad. He couldn’t tear his eyes off her slim fingers wrapped around the thick pole of his flesh, the mesmerizing contrast of that ladylike hand and his rude length popping with veins. Her gentle caresses kept him on the razor’s edge. Yet he enjoyed the sweet torture, that look of curiosity and lust on her cameo-worthy face.
“Am I doing this right?” she murmured. “Do you like me touching you this way?”
“You must know that I do,” he said huskily.
Uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
Christ, what kind of anidiothad Longmere been?was starting to be a refrain in Cull’s head.
She asked, “Will you, um, find satisfaction if I keep touching you this way?”
