“Now, open your mouth.” Without looking, I do. Just as I did to him, Stone rubs the decadent treat over my lips. I hear the sound of the can expelling more cream. “Stick out your tongue.” Again, I do as I’m told. Instead of feeling the coated fruit, Stone discharges a dollop of cream on it.
“Swallow and lick.” His gravelly voice orders with a thickness I’m not used to. I do so, keeping my eyes closed. A low, sensual growl sounds from him. “You look good doing that.”
I open my eyes to find him staring at me with a stare so hot I swear it melts my panties right off, as if they're edible. The moment is heady with heat, desire, and a book of unspoken vows between us.
Stone sets the food down and, with one arm braced behind me, he wraps his other around the front of my waist. His lips meet mine for a kiss as he carefully leads us into a lying position. Once I’m on my back, he reaches for the hem of my shirt and slides it up.
I adjust to help him lift it over my head. Neither of us speaks; words would only get in the way. The night is still and silent. Only the hum of the vent can be heard. Stone’s mouth crushes mine as his hand unbuttons my jeans. Inching over my skin, his large, rough hand glides up my belly.
Goosebumps prickle my skin, not from the cold, but from his titillating touch. Stone leans up on his elbow and reaches behind him for a strawberry.
“Suck,” he says, bringing it to my lips. Keeping my eyes open, I do as I’m told. “Now let me see you use that tongue to get it nice and wet.”
Stone growls and moans as I take instruction. He removes the strawberry from my mouth and touches it to my neck. Dragging the wet fruit down to my collarbone, Stone’s tongue licks the remnants of chocolate left behind, stopping only to tell me to lick the chocolate and get it nice and wet. The small fruit is pulled down my décolletage, followed by Stone’s eager mouth.
“Open,” Stone orders. He puts the strawberry in my mouth up to its thickest part. “Hold this between your lips. Lick it, suck it, but don’t bite it.” I follow Stone’s directions as he works to take off my bra. Once he accomplishes his goal, he removes the strawberry.
“You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. He circles the side of the strawberry over and around my pink peaks and surrounding areas. My nipples are tight and hard when his tongue flicks over them. Taking his time, Stone’s mouth attaches to and indulges in each bud as if they are a delicacy.
I lose myself in sensations as the cool night air contrasts with the warmth of his mouth. The decadence of lying in want, shirtless outdoors under the moon and stars, is intoxicating. Knowing there is a possibility that we could be discovered, not only by prying eyes with binoculars or a resident, but also by other creatures flying in the night, is an added aphrodisiac.
Tossing the strawberry to the side, Stone’s hand rests on my naval and slides down to the waistband of my thong. Under my jeans and over the thin material keeping my special place hidden, he cups my mound.
He doesn’t comment on the heat or dampness he’s met with, but uses his mouth to meet mine with a crushing kiss as he maneuvers the thin material and impales one of his large fingers into my pot of warm honey. I moan as he moves his finger inside me, circling, curling, then thrusting it in and out.
“So sexy,” he says, removing his hand and pulling away just before he shifts to his halfling form. His wings flair and flap, forcing him away from me momentarily, just before I cum.
Chapter 23
Stone
Still in my gargoyle form, I follow close behind Cami into her apartment. I keep only inches between us. So close that I never lose contact with the heat and smell her desire radiating off of her body. Once upstairs, she takes my hand and leads us straight to her bedroom. She stops walking, and my heart drums like a heavy metal song as I spin my mate around to face me.
We stare at each other, unmoving, until our mutual yearning floods the air, becoming oppressive. With breathless abandon, I paw at her clothes. My claws make easy work of her shirt, tearing through it like gauze. After ripping it off, I grab the waistband of her jeans and yank them open. The button flies off and makes a tinny sound as it lands on the hardwood floor.
I don't see a hint of embarrassment or modesty on her face before she slides them down her hips and kicks them to the side. My eyes never leave her as I watch her undress while simultaneously shedding my own shirt and pants.
“I want you, Camilla,” I whisper, a heavy strain sounding in my voice. “I need to know that you are ready for me. For this. If not, I need to leave right now, before I can’t stop myself.” I try to give her fair warning.
Her eyes soak me in from head to toe and then return to my manhood, where they linger with interest.
“You are a work of art,” She whispers, reaching her hand out to rest on my chest. She drags her fingertips over my carved muscles. “A moving masterpiece.”
She’s not entirely wrong. It’s just how gargoyles are. Large and strapping. Full of muscle.
