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She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe.
As his fingers played, stroked, rubbed, Angel lost all sense of place and time. Her fingers buried in his hair, clenched, desperate to hold on as the hot press of his lips moved lower.
“Damn, you go to my head faster than liquor,” he groaned, easing between her thighs, spreading them wider as a mewling cry escaped her lips. “I have to see if this pretty pussy tastes as sweet as I’ve always imagined, spilling with your juices.” His fingers eased back, his lips brushing against the bare mound.
His head lowered. . . .
“Oh my God!” Her back arched, her shocked cry more a breathless gasp as she dug her feet into the mattress, her hips lifting, her need for more the only thought, the only reality she could comprehend.
His tongue slid slowly through the folds of flesh, licking and stroking, his rumbled groan of pleasure a delicious vibration against her aching clit.
All her nerve endings were clamoring to get closer to him, throbbing just below her skin, demanding the exquisite caresses and kisses now tormenting her aching sex.
“I knew you’d be just as sweet and hot here, too,” he groaned, his fingers parting the plump inner lips, opening her further to his touch. “So sweet and juicy and I think I’m gonna be damned greedy.”
She was addictive and Duke knew he was hooked. Hell, she’d owned parts of him for years, she might as well own the rest of him.
Parting the flushed, bare folds of her pussy, he licked, stroked, tasted the liquid need that spilled from her. When he was certain he couldn’t wait much longer to take her, Duke eased from the sweetest taste in the world, his lips and tongue finding the hard bud of her clit as his fingers slid to the entrance of her pussy.
She wasn’t as experienced as many of his past lovers. Her responses were less practiced, her ability to hold back any part of herself nonexistent. When his fingers rimmed the narrow opening and he eased just the tip of one inside, he felt sweat pop out on his brow.
She was tight. So damned tight that the second fingertip had a ragged cry spilling from her lips.
This wasn’t possible.
It couldn’t be possible.
Easing his fingers deeper, screwing them in small half circles, he worked them steadily inside her, easing deeper inside the snug grip until he met the fragile resistance of an innocence he couldn’t have suspected.
Hell.
He should let her go.
He should get up, walk away, leave her to give that sweet gift to someone she loved. Someone who knew how to give all of himself to her.
As though she’d heard his thought he felt her go quiet beneath him, her breathing ragged and choppy. The whimper, a barely-there sound rife with an inner pain that had nothing to do with his touch.
“Sweet as candy,” he whispered, nuzzling his lips against the still-engorged kernel of her clit, determined to draw her back into the pleasure he’d allowed her to slip from.
Lifting his head he stared up at her, flashing her a quick grin.
“I knew you’d be this good, this sweet.” Gently, he parted the fingers possessing her, scissoring inside the snug grip clenched around them.
Her breath caught, heat flushing her face once again, the stormy depths of her eyes filled with need and haunting shadows.
“I can’t think,” she whispered, staring down at him uncertainly as her hips shifted, her body slowly growing accustomed to the feel of his fingers stretching her, rubbing against the silken flesh as her juices began filling the channel once again.
“You don’t have to think, Angel. All you have to do is let us feel good together,” he promised and lowered his head, his tongue finding her swollen little clit again.
A virgin.
Damn, a first for him. And he had a feeling she was going to blow his mind.
• • •
He didn’t know.
She’d been certain he’d figured it out, that he’d somehow felt that barrier as his fingers pressed inside her. But he hadn’t stopped, his fingers hadn’t retreated, they were still there.
