“And yet?” I ask, barely choking out the words around my desire.
Self-consciousness flickers across his face briefly and my pulse picks up. He’s exposing a side of himself to me that no one else gets to see.
“Are you sure?” The words come out quiet, slow, and they make me ache.
My heart twists for this gorgeous, brutal, vicious, thoughtful man—who has rarely had someone choose him forhim.
Pressing closer to him, I relish the heat off his body, the tight hold of his fingers on my arm. His breath roughens as I move in, and my skin is alight with the sensation of his nearness.
I can’t go another minute without his skin under my lips.
“Let me show you how sure I am, Alpha Stark.” My voice is barely a whisper, but I can see the instant effect it has on him, see his eyes darken with lust. “Maybe you’ll believe me then.”
And without waiting for an answer, I reach my free hand up and rip open his shirt, the flimsy Astreonan material tearing under my hands.
Then, finally, my mouth and teeth are on him. I’m fucking ravenous. His neck, his stubble. The swirls and jagged lines of each tattoo. I use my free hand to trace each one, licking and nipping each shape as I move downward.
Stark groans, and the desperate sound makes me instantly wet.
The muscles of his chest harden at my attention, his nipples becoming two sharp peaks. I trace the line of his pecs with my lips, lost to the sensation of his hard skin under my mouth.
And his scars. Those scars that cover almost every part of him. I give each one special attention, reveling as his muscles tense and release under my ministrations.
His abs are a wonderland of tattoo and scarred skin and rock-solid muscle. I drag my teeth down, over the hard ridges, and I’m rewarded with a gasp above me.
Smiling against his skin, I yank my other hand from his grip, finally. I dip the fingers of one hand under his waistband, using the other to undo the clasps holding it closed. Each clasp reveals more perfect muscle. Dropping to my knees, kissing the V of his muscles that leads straight down to his cock, I nearly lose my mind in anticipation.
And yet nothing could have prepared me for the sight of him when I finally free him from his pants. Hard and huge and velvety, standing straight up between us.
He’s gorgeous.
I wrap my hand around the base, my fingers barely touching, and give an experimental pull.
Stark curses and thrusts into me, just slightly. I bite my lower lip and look up at him. He’s staring down at me, his eyes on mine, mouth slightly parted in wonder.
I’m on my knees for him, but I’ve never felt more powerful in my life.
My insides clench tightly as I imagine being filled by this glorious, primal man.
Slowly, enjoying every moment, I lower my lips to the head of his cock. Once, twice, I swirl my tongue around him, then lap up the bead of moisture atits tip. My thighs tighten at his taste, salty and warm and masculine. Stark lets out another groan.
I tease him with the flat of my tongue, licking down his shaft and back up again.
And then I can’t make myself wait any longer. Hungrily, I take him into my mouth, his girth almost overwhelming me.
His hand comes down to grab my hair, fingers lacing themselves through silver strands. He tightens his fist to pull up my head and then relaxes again, and my mouth sinks down another inch.
Fuck.
I moan around his cock, my eyes shutting with pleasure and satiation. He fills my mouth, and I open wider, letting the head nudge the back of my throat. I lift up and then sink down again, fast, almost gagging as I take him deeper.
His hips buck just a little, nudging the back of my throat again, filling me more completely. I see stars. I moan again, deep and senseless. Then pull up, sucking hard, only to sink my head back down again and again.
“Get up.”
His order is rough, but controlled.
What? Doesn’t he like this? I pull my mouth off him, standing slowly, uncertain.
