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Then she arches. Her perfect nipples seduce me.
I skim my lips down. Her scent is strongest in her cleavage, and I inhale until I feel drunk. I kiss her, my tongue lapping at her perfume.
“Marrok…” she mewls, cupping her breasts as if they are the source of her pang.
Her small hands cannot quite contain her tits. The sight of her trying ups my lust.
Like a man possessed, I suck one of her swollen nipples, tonguing and nipping it, inflaming it until her breath catches and her back twists. She tastes achingly sweet, like the purest sugar.
I give the other my attention. She clutches me in wordless demand and lifts her hips in desperate entreaty. I sink ever further under her spell, inhaling her deeper.
While my head swims, I lap her hard tips, one after the other, drawing each into the heat of my mouth and reveling in her high-pitched whines. Then slowly I drag my teeth up one velvety peak whilst roughing its twin between my thumb and finger. I repeat the process until both swell anew. Until she hisses in pleasure. Until she unconsciously spreads her legs for me.
Resisting her unspoken invitation is impossible.
I graze my lips across her addictively soft skin, laving the gentle swell of her belly before nibbling at her lush hip. Her round thigh I cannot help but devour.
My first night with Morgana so many moons ago, she ran me down like a parade of war horses, demanding I fuck her over and over until I felt trampled. Never did she betray her passion until climax hit her in a hard rush, giving me almost no time to bask in her surrender.
Now I see pleasure slowly overtake her once more. Goose pimples spread across her skin. Her flush rises. The broken pleas of her whimpers ring through my dark bedchamber. Morgana’s obvious weakness to my touch—which she makes no attempt to hide—confuses me.
Another facet of her game…or could her reaction be real?
It matters not. We are mated now. She is mine. And in this moment, she is everything I crave in a woman—honeyed, welcoming, and yielding, with generous tits to worship, wide hips to grip, and a juicy cunt to plunder.
Eager to explore this new Morgana, I drag my thumb over the stiff nub between her legs. She feels wetter than before. She has swollen to a puffy, slick pink. Triumph jolts me as she gasps, her rosy lips falling open. She blinks at me as if I’m her god and I alone can save her.
“Marrok!”
Morgana wishes me to believe she is weak to my touch? No telling why, but I intend to learn how far I can push her.
“Aye?”
“What are you doing to me?” she pants.
This she asks with a straight face, as if she does not understand fucking? As if she has never been touched?
“I would make you feel good,” I murmur, breathing hot on her mound as I slide my fingers over the ivory silk of her inner thighs.
“Marrok!”
I respond by laving my way to her cunt. Her swollen folds are a temptation. I inhale her, hell-bent on driving her to a body-wracking climax. I want to rattle her. I want her to scream for me. I want to tear down her barriers and expose her scheme—whatever it is.
With a growl, I settle my mouth over her, ravenous to learn her taste. The moment her flavor hits my tongue, she intoxicates me.
I will never get enough.
She bucks up to meet my lips. Her small fists grip my sheets as I swipe my tongue over and over her needy clit. Her body tenses, telling me with hard nipples, rosy skin, and a seeping pussy how much she desires me.
I want to own every inch of her.
She swells against my tongue, breathing hard and thrashing. Mere heartbeats pass before her climax approaches. I need to wring it from her. I crave her screams. I want to see her jolt, hear her plead, taste her pleasure.
Next time I will delay her orgasm—and prolong my thrill. There will be nothing sweeter than hearing her beg me for the relief only I can provide…or withhold.
As she cries my name and convulses in bliss, I bask in my absolute command of her body and lick her like a starved man, determined to drag out every hoarse groan and wonder-filled sigh. Reckless exultation seizes me as her screams bounce off my walls.
My impatience to claim her surges. Desire to fill her, to fuck her, to dominate her obliterates my good sense.
