“Fils de putain,” he ground out in Cajun French.
He forced his finger to the side of her mouth, parting her lips and shoving himself deep. His cock was instantly in paradise, her hot, wet mouth wrapped tightly around him. She suckled strongly, pulling him deep, her tongue dancing up and down his shaft, teasing the sweet spot under the flared head and then swiping over it as she drew him out and took him deep again. Her purr vibrated through his cock.
Her mouth grew hotter until he was in a tube of fire, her need to please him consuming him. Burning. Scorching. So tight like the tightest fist. Pulling strongly and then letting him go to give her talented tongue a chance to dance once more down his shaft to his sac and then back up. So greedy. She was greedy as she suckled, clamping tight to milk him.
His cock swelled more, impossibly so, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond that hot mouth robbing him of his mind, of all control. He brought both hands to her hair, on either side, guiding her, feeling the swell of his cock in the torturous glide of her mouth. He held her head still and pushed lightly with his hips, testing, making certain she could handle him.
He held her absolutely still and thrust, his cock bumping the back of her throat. Her eyes widened in a kind of shock. Vicious pleasure burst through him, just like the starburst in those purple eyes of hers.
He withdrew and thrust a second time, allowing the brutal burst of sensation to engulf him, to take him out of his own body and push him careening toward the edge of all control. He didn’t give her much choice, but then she didn’t ask for it either. She relaxed her throat and suddenly he felt the tight hot, convulsing grip and lost all control. His body jerked. His hips surged. His cock exploded, pouring his seed down her throat.
Still, even that wasn’t enough to sate his body. He had known it wouldn’t be. He had known taking her any way would never be enough. He pulled out of her mouth, his eyes on her face. Her lips were swollen and there was evidence of him there. Satisfaction poured into him. His. She was his.
Her breasts were rose colored, her nipples tight, hard buds. Her breathing came in gasps and pants and there were more diamond droplets in the curls between her legs. She leaned forward and stroked him with her tongue, lapping gently, careful of his sensitivity. She licked up his shaft and around the head, soothing this time, as if she really were a cat caring for him. Up and down his shaft, along his sac and over the flared head.
He was growing harder with every stroke, just as if he hadn’t already expended seed, energy and passion.
Chapter 10
With one hand, Wyatt ripped his shirt off and flung it to one side. His skin felt as scorching hot as his cock. She had some kind of biochemical in her mouth, something that fed his arousal. With every lap of her tongue, she inflamed him more. The same biochemical had to be emitted through the pads of her fingers because each stroke of her hands, the touch of her fingers, made his head roar with hunger.
He gripped her shoulders and forcefully pushed her backward to the floor. There was no give there, nothing to cushion her when he pounded into her. He stood over her as she sprawled out, her dark hair cascading around her, dark as a raven’s wing, pools of it spilling in whorls, masses of silk against the old, discolored wood. Her knees were open and she started to move, to close them.
“Don’,” he instructed harshly. “Stay just like that.”
She swallowed and nodded, subsiding, allowing her knees to stay wide open to his view. He shed his boots fast and then his jeans, all the time watching the rise and fall of her breasts, pleased with the marks covering her, showing she belonged to him, especially pleased with the need spilling out between her legs, calling to him. Her scent enveloped him and he knew the same biochemical was there, wafting up to him, driving him insane with hunger, with lust.
His mouth watered. His cock jerked, just as hard and edgy as before, the need edging on brutal. She was flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. In need. Just as hungry and inflamed as he was. Waiting for him. Desperate for him. He wanted her that way. She was the thing of fantasies. She could control men easily through sex but she would never be satisfied. He knew if he was going to keep her, she couldn’t be in control of him. He needed to show her he could satisfy her always.