It’s not me I’m afraid for, Lore.
I’m not at risk of losing another crow, only of losing my mind if I don’t have you right now.He grabs my thighs and hoists me up.
My legs come around his waist, and I hook my ankles to keep from slipping off. Not that I’m at risk of dropping. His grip on my ass is so firm that even if I tried to squirm away, I couldn’t. But why the Cauldron would I try? There’s nowhere in the entire world I’d rather be than in Lore’s arms.
He presses a kiss to the crook of my neck, then suckles the skin. Will my flesh bear the mark of his mouth when I awaken from this extravagant fantasy?
Sand or sea, Little Bird?
“Wh-what?” The word stumbles out of my mouth along with my breath.
He moves his mouth to my ear and murmurs, “Where would you like me to take you? Inside the ocean or would you prefer I lay you out on the sand?”
“Surprise me.”
I feel his lips curve against my skin as he steps toward the ocean, his cock sliding back and forth against my slick heat. When he’s ankle-deep in the surf, he turns and kneels, rolling me atop the damp sand. And then his mouth is on my breast, soft, soft, soft, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses until my pale-pink areola puckers and my nipple threatens to stab the flat of his tongue.
My heart hastens as he flicks his gaze to my other breast.Pain?
I’m shocked he remembers that my chest has never truly been a source of pleasure.
He braces himself onto his forearms. “I forget nothing, Behach Éan. Would you like me to stop paying your perfect breasts attention?”
“No.” Although I don’t think I could climax like Syb apparently can, I don’t dislike the tingle.
Lore studies my eyes—my mind—as though he wants to make absolutely certain I’m not encouraging him only to please him.
I thread my hand through his hair and tow his face back down to my other breast, feeding it to him. My toes and fingers curl when he sucks my nipple into his mouth, scraping it with his teeth before laving it with his tongue. It’s a lot. A lot good.Fuck.It’s actually . . . The tingle races through my veins, tightening first my stomach and then my core.
Balancing himself on one hand, he smooths the other down the length of my torso like a sculptor shaping clay and forces my thighs open with the heel of his hand, then spreads my lips with his fingers and, without pause, thrusts one long finger knuckle-deep inside of me.
A choked cry tears up my throat, and my spine arches. Lore flattens me against the sand with one big palm, then gives my nipple a powerful swirl of tongue that makes both my breasts tighten even though only one is getting mauled. He releases me with an audible pop that snaps yet another tingle through my body, one that matures into a shiver as he lazily pumps his finger in and out of me.
Eyes on mine, he raises a wicked grin that he slides down the channel between my ribs, dips into my belly button, and skims down my curls. Once he reaches my pubic bone, he picks his face off my body, removes his finger from my clenching heat, and regards, with great smugness, how his skin shines.
Shifting his gaze back to mine, he sticks the finger coated with my juices inside his mouth and sucks.How I’ve hungered for your sweet taste, mate.
The sight of him tasting me, combined with the heady groan that rumbles from his chest, fires a blush across my cheeks, one that makes the corners of his mouth curl even higher.
Once he’s sucked his finger clean, he scoots backward, submerging his lower body until his long frame is settled comfortably against the sand, then he threads his arms beneath my thighs and spreads me wide.
“I thought you wanted—” He lowers his head and gives me a long lick that slams the door shut between my mouth and mind.
You thought I wantedwhat, Behach Éan?
I thought—Another lick.I thought—
He plucks my tightened nub and I give up thinking.
He chuckles, which only enhances all the sensations churning within me. After he’s raided my lungs of a few moans, he braces his weight onto his elbows and tows his mouth off my core. “What did you think I wanted?”
I blink up at the sky, then roll my head off the sand and blink at him, my thoughts as distant and out of reach as the stars above.
He circles my nub with a blunt nail, teasing my pulse into a frenzy. “So . . .?”
Oh my Gods, is he serious? Does he really think now’s a good time to joggle my brain? The only thing I want joggled is that part of me he’s merely skimming.
He chuckles, pulsing air that hits me dead center. My thighs tense. My core clenches. I will him to once again laugh at my tawdry wherewithal, if only so his lungs can set me off since his finger seems averse to granting me pleasure.
