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Chapter Twenty-Two
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Adulate.
He never really had a lot of use for that damn word.
Always thought it was pretty fucking stupid.
Never again.
Never.
Again.
Words tattooing his spirit, as she parted her lips and took him into her warmth. A vow in every cell of his blood, as his aching crown fitted in the cradle of her throat. And a promise in the depths of his heart, humbled by this incredible, open expression of hers.
Awareness he could examine and explore later.
Much later.
After she assuaged the violent beast between his legs. After he fed the beast to her, inch by glorious inch, watching it rage at the walls of her mouth. After he nearly retreated only to plunge back in, over and over and over, fucking those elegant lips of hers.
No. Elegant no more. They were his filthy playthings. His to violate and dominate, to ruthlessly rule…
Until he couldn’t.
Until suddenly, the control was no longer his. His cock was at her mercy, like a candy stick she couldn’t get enough of, feeding her voraciousness. She slammed her mouth up and down, harder and harder, greedier and greedier, until he had to release her and grab an overhead tree branch just to keep his feet under him. His knees were water. His thighs were fire. And dear fuck, the magic she worked over his sex, even working a hand over his balls and squeezing with purpose.
“Christ!” he rasped. “Christ, my sweet kitten…” His pants dropped to his ankles, baring his ass for the kiss of the cool breeze. The sensation contrasted with the searing brand of her tongue, lavishing her candy with starving moans. Driving him half-mad with lust…
Half?
Maybe a little more than half.
Maybe a lot more.
He was aware of everything and nothing at once. The earthy scent of the trees. The tangy hint of her arousal. The golden drops of the sun. The burnished brilliance of her hair. More sighs of the wind, blending with the soft moans from her throat.
Her throat.
Jesus fuck, her throat.
Taking him so far down…even clamping in with every new lunge he took, making his tip weep and his body quake. By the gods, she was good at this. Really, really good at this. His vision swam. His dick ached. His balls screamed, already sizzling with the fire, so inevitable and brilliant, he longed to enflame her with…to flood her with…
No. No. He had hold back. Had to lay her flat in this bed of leaves and take her hard. Rut on her in the dirt, like the mindless animal taking over his senses, his body…
But the fantasy made his cock swell more. Made his slit start to pulse, swimming in the wet, tight cavern of her sweet, hot hole.
No. No.
“I can’t—” He clenched his ass, trying to pull back. Tracy gripped his thigh, clawing him hard, commanding him to keep taking her wanton torment. “Popoki. I won’t be able to—shit!”
He froze, watching her cheeks hollow, adding even more excruciating, amazing pressure.
She groaned harder.
Swept her thick lashes up, exposing his gawk to the knowing sensuality of her stare…
