“Fuck.”
He captures my mouth again. After that, it’s a flurry of frenzied movements as we tear at one another’s clothes. He doesn’t bother to peel them off me and neither do I. Claws tip the fingers of both our hands as we partially shift and rip one another’s clothes off, the scraps of fabric falling to the ground like tattered ribbons until I’m left standing naked before him.
Desmond cups my breast and I arch closer to his touch, throwing my head back as he squeezes me in his hand. His touch is rough. Bruising. And I relish it.
“We should move,” he mumbles against my lips, but I don’t let that deter me. I slide my hand beneath his briefs, wrapping my fingers around him and giving him a firm stroke.
“Jesus Christ,” he snarls.
The next thing I know, he’s on his feet, my legs wrapped around him. He carries me to his room, closes the door behind him, and then tosses me on his bed, my back sinking into the soft mattress. He doesn’t miss a beat. In a flash, he’s on me. His powerful body pressing firmly against mine.
He kisses me again and I gasp, his tongue seeking out my own and sliding into my mouth. I moan. He tastes so good. Like coffee and spice. His underwear rubs against my core, the thin barrier still separating us, and I immediately hate it. I don’t want anything between us. I need to feel his skin on mine. Every damn inch of it.
I claw at his boxer briefs and he smacks my hand away and seizes control, removing the last of his clothes before he runs his thumb over my nipple and slides down my body to take one in his mouth.
I whimper.
He peppers kisses across my chest before swirling my other nipple with his tongue.
“Desmond, please.”
He glances up at me, his eyes molten with his wolf. He watches my face as he kneads my breasts, cataloging every gasp and moan I make. He pinches and pulls on my nipples.
“You’re so fucking responsive.”
My breathing is heavy as he slips further down the bed until his broad shoulders are nestled between my thighs. He spreads my legs open, and as his face stares down at my sex, his warm breath fans across my skin. I could die and go to heaven with the way he is looking at me right now, his gaze hot and hungry. Like I’m his last meal and he can’t wait to devour me.
He doesn’t give me the chance to speak. To get nervous. He locks his hooded gaze with mine and presses a hungry kiss to my core, using his thumbs to spread me open even more.
“Shit,” I gasp.
He chuckles, sliding his hands under my thighs and cupping my ass as he tilts my pelvis closer to his mouth. “You like that?”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and I nod.
“I can smell your need. It’s intoxicating.”
He leans in again and his mouth latches onto my pussy. I cry out, throwing my head back against the bed. He licks my slit before spearing his tongue inside me, and after only a few strokes, the pressure begins to build.
My pussy clenches and my legs quiver as he teases me, licking and sucking, but never putting enough pressure on my clit to throw me over the edge. I thrust my hips up to meet his touch, my body desperate for more friction.
I’m wound so tight I feel like I’m about to snap.
“Desmond!”
He grabs my hips with bruising force, pinning me to the bed, and begins to eat my pussy like a man starved. It only takes another minute until I’m crying out and bucking against him, but he doesn’t let up. He locks onto my clit, my body hyper aware and overly sensitive as wave after wave of pleasure slams into me. I cry out again with the force of my release and Desmond growls, a hungry and distinctly wolfish sound that rumbles against my sensitive flesh, sending aftershocks through my system.
Limp and sated, my legs shamelessly drop to the bed. I struggle to catch my breath. My vision spots with black and my head spins.
I expect Desmond to stop. To climb back beside me, but he stays rooted between my legs. His mouth still between my thighs. When I feel like my heart is no longer at risk of beating out of my chest, he flicks his tongue over my sensitive clit.
I moan. My tigress watches him through my eyes, apprising him as someone worthy. Someone who demands her attention.
Desmond presses his palm over my stomach, holding me down as he devours me all over again, only this time he nudges one thick finger inside me.
My muscles tense, legs quivering. I growl as he strokes me. “Oh, god.”
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he murmurs against me right as a second orgasm hits me out of nowhere and I grind against his hand, riding out my release.
