“So sweet,” he murmurs against me, the vibration of his words sending shocks of pleasure through my body.
His fingers join his mouth, sliding inside me while his tongue circles my clit. The dual sensation is overwhelming. I’m already close, embarrassingly so.
“That’s it,” he encourages, curving his finger to hit that spot inside me that makes my vision blur. “Let go.”
When he sucks my clit between his lips while pressing a second finger inside me, I shatter. The orgasm rips through me without warning, making my back arch off the bed. I cry out his name, over and over, as waves of pleasure crash through me.
Before I can recover, he’s working me higher again. His movements slow this time—deliberate, almost cruel in their precision. His fingers curl inside me, finding that perfect spot while his tongue traces lazy circles around my swollen clit.
“I can’t—“ I gasp, my body already trembling. “Dane, I can’t—”
“You can.” He looks up at me with those gold-rimmed eyes, his mouth glistening. “And you will.”
He adds a third finger, stretching me, the fullness making me keen. His tongue flattens against my clit, then flicks rapidly—a rhythm that builds heat low in my belly. My hands fist in the sheets, then in his hair, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him closer.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against me, the vibration of his words shooting straight through my core. “I can feel you getting close again.”
He’s right. The pressure is building, different from before—deeper, more intense. His fingers pump steadily while his mouth works me without mercy. Sweat beads on my skin. My thighs shake.
“Please,” I hear myself beg, though I don’t know what I’m asking for. “Please, Dane—“
He responds by sucking my clit hard, his fingers curving to hit that spot inside me that makes my vision white out.
The second orgasm crashes through me without warning, stronger than the first. My entire body convulses, back arching off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as pleasure pulses through me in endless waves. I scream—actually scream—his name tearing from my throat as the sensation goes on and on. I lose all sense of time and place, aware only of his mouth on me, his fingers inside me, and the broken sounds I’m making.
When I come back to myself, I’m trembling, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Dane moves up my body, looking down at me with naked hunger and something deeper—something that makes my chest ache.
Every place his skin connects with mine burns like a brand. He pauses at my breasts, lowering his head to capture one nipple between his lips. The sensation shoots straight between my legs, making me arch against him.
“I feel every shiver,” he murmurs against my skin. His tongue traces lazy circles around my nipple before he sucks it hard enough to make me gasp.
I watch him through half-lidded eyes, mesmerized by the raw hunger on his face. His ash-brown hair falls across his forehead as he moves to my other breast, giving it the same torturous attention. His stubble scrapes deliciously against my sensitive skin, the slight pain enhancing the pleasure.
When he reaches my ear, he takes the lobe between his teeth, tugging gently.
“Right here,” he whispers, noticing my reaction. He focuses on that spot, alternating between feather-light kisses and the dangerous scrape of teeth until I’m squirming beneath him, desperate for more.
I look up into his eyes, and what I see there steals my breath. Those steel-gray irises are nearly black with desire, the gold ring around them glowing like embers. There’s hunger there, yes, but something else too—something fierce and protective and dangerously close to devotion.
He pulls back suddenly, standing at the edge of the bed. I feel the loss of his heat immediately, but the sight of him more than makes up for it. He unbuttons his pants, sliding them down his powerful legs along with his boxer briefs.
And there he is—completely naked before me.
I take him in slowly. His tousled hair falling across his forehead. Those transformed eyes darkening further as he watches me watching him. His broad chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. His muscles are defined from years of fighting, of surviving, of protecting. His arms—those powerful arms that have held me, carried me, saved me—flex slightly as he stands there, letting me look my fill.
Lower still. Past his narrow hips to his strong, muscled legs. And between them, his cock stands proud and heavy, veins visible along its impressive length. A drop of precum beads at the tip, and I lick my lips without thinking.
I want those arms around me again. Want to feel the weight of his body on mine, in mine.
“Come here,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
He doesn’t move. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to taste you,” I admit, surprising myself with my boldness.
A muscle in his jaw ticks. He steps closer, placing one knee on the bed, then the other, walking on his knees until he’s straddling my chest, his cock level with my face.
I reach up, wrapping my fingers around his length. He’s hot and hard, the skin impossibly soft. With my other hand, I cup his balls, feeling their weight in my palm. He hisses at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before snapping back open, unwilling to miss a second.
