And then it feels so good, I don’t want to move.
“I know I have no right to ask this,” he says, voice rougher than I’ve heard it. “I’ve given you every reason to tell me to fuck off.” His thumbs stroke gentle patterns on my cheeks, and it’s so at odds with the desperate look in his eyes, I can’t think straight.
“Ask me what?” I manage, heart beating wildly now.
“I need to touch you,” he whispers.
“You are.”
“I needmore.” He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine. “Their scent is all over. In this room, on you...” A rumbly growl fills the air between us, and I probably shouldn’t find that as hot as I do. “He fuckingtouchedyou.” The last sentence comes out slightly slurred, and I know if I look, his teeth won’t be fully human.
All it does is make my blood burn hotter.
“What do you need?” I’m already tilting my head to the side as I ask the question, like my body instinctively knows.
Lynx dips his head, sharp teeth scraping over the bare skin I’ve offered him.
The place where Fox touched me.
My breath hitches at the sting as he nips my throat, and I moan when he soothes it with his tongue. It’s the most erotic sensation, and my cock strains against my underwear, desperate to join in.
I wonder if he can sense it.
If he knows how much I want his mouth over every fucking inch of me. The next words he utters convince me he’s a mind reader.
“Need to taste you everywhere.”
“Yes.” It’s the only logical response to a statement like that.
I don’t notice the claws until they slice through the material of my T-shirt, leaving me bare. Lynx ducks his head, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, my chest. I stumble back until I hit the edge of the table and then hold on for dear life as he drops to his knees.
He groans when he reaches my belly, and I flush with embarrassment as I remember what he did in the forest. “No, wait.”
He looks up at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I gesture to my stomach. “I need to shower.”
“Why?”
Is he really going to make me spell it out?
No, even worse, he presses his face to my belly andinhales.
“Mine,” he growls, and it goes straight to my cock.
Never thought I’d be a fan of a possessive arsehole, but apparently I am. Maybe it’s the way he gently strokes the exposed skin on my hips, or the soft kisses he presses along my happy trail. Whatever it is, it’s working for me.
He shoves my jeans and boxers down my thighs, but I grip his hair before he goes any further and tug until he looks up at me.
“Human teeth,” I order, and he grins, showing me his verynot-human fangs. I watch, both fascinated and a little horrified as they change before my eyes, long canines, sliding back into his gums. I have a second to wonder if it hurts as much as it looks like it should and then his mouth is around my cock, cutting off every single thought in my head.
My fingers are still tangled in his hair, and I hold on tight as he takes me apart with every long slide into that hot, wet warmth and every sweep of his tongue along my length. White-hot pleasure curls up my spine, and at this rate it’s going to be over embarrassingly quickly.
And I don’t even care.
Can’t when it feels so toe-curlingly good.
I give up trying to hold off my orgasm and give in to the fire racing through my veins, lighting me up inside until I come with a too-loud moan, which I’ll no doubt be embarrassed about later.
