He tosses me on the bed where I bounce, then stands there looking down at me with an expression of pure hunger.
“What’s your name, little omega?” he asks.
“Belle,” I reply, caught under his spell.
“Belle,” he repeats, like he’s tasting it. “I’m keeping you, Belle. Forever.”
“You’re insane.”
He nods. “Probably. Andyouare about to beg me to knot you.” Then he starts unfastening his clothes… And when he crawls on the bed, eyes locked on mine, his scent completely intoxicating me, I realize how fucked I am. Or about to be…
* * *
“I don’t even know your name,” I say, because apparently my mouth has decided to keep working even though my brain has completely checked out.
He prowls toward me… fuck, that’s the only word for it… like I’m prey and he’s starving.
“You can call me Beast,” he says, climbing higher on the huge mattress. It dips under his immense weight.
“That’s not a real name.”
“It’s the only one that matters.” He’s over me now, caging me in with his enormous arms. “Now stop stalling.”
“I’m not…”
He cuts me off with his mouth on mine, and holyfuck.
I’ve never been kissed before. Never wanted to be kissed. But this…this is not what I imagined kissing would be like. Beast’s mouth is hot and demanding, his fangs grazing my bottom lip in a way that should be scary but instead makes me moan into his mouth.
His tongue slides against mine, and I taste myself on him…from his fingers earlier…and that should be gross, but instead it makes everything worse. Or better. I don’t know anymore. And the brush of his whiskers on my face, his fur on my skin…
He pulls back, looking down at me with his ravenous golden eyes.
“Going to eat you out now,” he growls.
“What…”
But he’s already moving down my body, his giant claws making quick work of my dress. The fabric tears like paper, and I should probably care about that…it’s the only decent dress I own after all…but then his hands are on my thick thighs, spreading them wide, and all thoughts evaporate from my mind. I’m nothing but sensations.
“Look at you,” he rasps, his breath hot against my most intimate place. “Dripping. Swollen. Pulsing. Fucking desperate.”
“Please,” I whimper, not even sure what I’m begging for.
“Oh, I will,” he promises darkly. “I’m gonna make you come on my tongue until you can’t remember your own fucking name. Then I’ll fuck you. And knot you. And when you think you can’t take anymore, I’ll do it all over again.”
Before I can respond…before I can even process his statement…his tongue is on me.
And oh.Oh.
If his fingers were good, his tongue is devastating. It’s not human. Can’t be. Too long, too large, too strong, too flexible, hitting places that make my back arch off the bed and sounds I didn’t know I could make.
“Fuck!” I gasp, my hands flying to his head. My fingers tangle in his fur and he growls against me, the vibration adding a whole new dimension to my pleasure.
He’s not gentle. Not tentative. He eats me out like a starving animal at a feast, like he wants to devour every drop of slick my body produces, like this is what he was fucking made for. And maybe it is. And maybeIwas made for it too.
His magical tongue pushes inside me, fucking me deep while his thumb finds my clit again.
“Come,” he orders against my flesh. “Come on my tongue, little omega.”
