Sorin groaned as her silky wetness met his questing fingertips. “So ready for me,” he murmured roughly against her mouth. Her juices slicked his fingers as he teased her cleft and clit. Her breath deepened, and the warm peaches-and-cream scent of her arousal filled his head, more potent than any drug. “I have to taste you, Asha.”
He moved down the delectable length of her body, pausing to lavish her breasts with hungry kisses, drawing on her nipple with his tongue and teeth until she was writhing beneath him, her spine arching into him in a demand for more.
Her eager response set his pulse on fire. Need drummed wildly in his veins, Ashayla’s desire calling to the demon in him like no other woman had done before.
On a wordless growl, Sorin tore his mouth away from her breasts to trace a line of kisses down her soft belly, then over each generous flare of her hip bones.
She gasped as he delved lower still, then cried out when he cleaved his tongue into the satiny folds of her sex. “Mmm,” he moaned against her tender flesh. “Peaches and cream…I want to lap up every last drop of you, my sweet Asha.”
His palms on the tender insides of her thighs, he spread her open to him even more, feasting his eyes on her carnal beauty before lowering his head to her again. Hungrily, mercilessly, he licked her, suckled her, drew her deep into his mouth. She quivered and writhed, then bucked and shuddered as he drove her toward climax.
“Sorin,” she moaned, her body tensing under his sensual assault. “Oh, fuck, Sorin…please…I can’t hold on much longer.”
He wasn’t sure he could last long either. The taste of her, the scent of her, the searing, silken feel of her against his mouth as she rode his tongue with erotic abandon…all of it had his heart rate pounding, his cock on fire, ready to explode.
But he wanted her pleasure first, before he buried himself in her and filled her with the full measure of his desire. She sucked in a thready breath as he pushed his tongue inside her tight entrance. Her hands came down on his head, fingers clutching at his hair as she moaned his name and held his mouth to her as the first shock wave of her climax rippled through her and into him.
Sorin drank it down, that pure, potent power of her release.
He was Incubus, and this moment was the thing he lived for. The surge of energy that fed him, sustained him, the way mundane food and drink never fully could.
That it was Ashayla’s orgasm pouring into him now only made their connection all the more intense. It felt sacred to him, more priceless than any treasure he could ever hope to possess.
She was sacred to him. In a way he was scarcely prepared to admit, even to himself.
And that fact shook him to his core.
His hands were reverent on her as he stroked her swollen bud, gentling her back down to Earth. When he could wait no longer, he let go of her hips, then slowly rose onto his knees between her parted thighs.
His cock stood proud, the thick staff blood-engorged, ready to burst. She reached down to stroke him and he closed his eyes, a pleasured hiss leaking out of him. Then Ashayla scrambled up from where she lay, moving toward him, her hands still working him, nearly undoing him.
When she bent over him and took him into her mouth, Sorin’s head fell back on a curse. Maybe it was a prayer. He didn’t know, and didn’t much care. So long as she was fastened to his cock, licking and sucking and driving him mad, he had no control over his words or his thoughts or his body.
Everything belonged to her.
Pleasure knotted at the base of his spine as her mouth covered him, took him in all the way to his root.
Fuck. Her lips were so soft, her tongue so hot and frenzied.
Sensation rocked him, fire licking across all of his nerve endings.
He grabbed a fistful of her long platinum hair, winding it around his hand, a lifeline as her mouth sent him even further adrift with heat and unbearable ecstasy.
She sucked him harder then, deeper, and each time the head of his cock hit the back of her open throat, his climax ratcheted tighter. Christ, he couldn’t take it much longer. He was going to burst.
As much as it killed him to drag her sweet lips from his flesh, Sorin ground out a curse and urged her head up.
“I want to be inside you, Asha,” he uttered, his voice dry gravel in his throat. “Ah, fuck…I need it. I need it now.”
Her answering smile as she reclined back and parted her legs to him was sly, more wicked than he thought a Nephilim’s could be. He’d never seen anything sexier in his life.
He wanted to take a moment to admire the gift she was giving him, but there was no time for indulgence. There was only desire. Only the need for this woman.
My woman, a startling voice demanded in the back of his mind.
Asha was his tonight. And the triumph Sorin felt over that had nothing at all to do with their wager or the treasure room prize at stake.
She was his until morning.
For now, that was enough.