Page 139 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

A gasp drew out of me when his hand went between my legs to cup me. His fingers pulled on the seam of my underwear before dipping inside, the pad of his fingers grazed that sensitive bundle of nerves and I moaned in response without being able to help it. Knowing it was him—his touch—made it even more thrilling.

“Like that?” he asked, leaving torturous kisses on my neck.

“Yes.” I gripped his wrist as his fingers started tracing circles over the apex of my thighs. The sensation of his mouth on my skin and his fingers on me was almost blinding.

When his fingers moved further down, gliding over my wet centre, he hissed in my ear. “Fuck, so wet.” His eyes held mine as he slowly slid a finger inside me, thrusting in and out of me severely slow, and my breaths grew to chanting puffs. “Is your pretty little cunt soaked for me?”

“Please,” I breathed, fisting his shirt tightly. More. More.

“Answer me,” he ordered, pulling out and slapping me between my legs.

I jerked a little from the sting and squirmed, searching for his touch again, my body growing hot. “You know the answer,” I whispered back, afraid of what uttering those syllables aloud could do to me.

“Good.” He lowered his mouth over a nipple, and I plunged my fingers through his thick hair to keep him there as he tortured me with lips, tongue and teeth while his finger torturously circled my core.

“I want to taste you. I want to see if you taste as good as you do in my mind,” he whispered, kissing his way up to my jaw. Bringing a finger to my mouth, he pushed it in between my lips. “Taste that?” he asked, tongue darting to lick my lips coated with my taste. “That's what’s mine tastes like.”

Sweet hells.

His lips left a hot trail as he kissed his way down my body. A trickle of gooseflesh rose where his warm breath fanned over my skin.

I cried out, clutching the sheets in my fists when his mouth lowered to my core, making every inch of my body pound with warmth. His tongue flicked over me once and my thighs quivered at the sensation, at the sight of him between my legs, the soft touches he left on my thighs, his finger disappearing inside of me. It was all too much—so much.

My body arched off the bed and my hand shot to his hair, half wanting to push him and half holding him there while I rolled my hips to meet his movement.

His eyes rose up at me and something he saw in my face made his mouth pull in a stupid smile. He groaned over my flesh, sucked and nibbled till I became a puddle of need and sweat, till release hummed and throbbed over my body. A second finger entered me and picked up a pace, thrusting in and out.

My breaths grew quicker to match what was rising inside of me.

More—I wanted more.

His tongue darted over my entrance. “The taste of you,” he breathed, ravishing me. “I’ll never get enough of it.” When his tongue plunged inside of me, all of me, my mind and body, went tight as a bow and my sight dizzied for a moment as release rippled like a tidal wave. He didn’t stop, holding my thighs apart while licking and kissing my release till I’d grown light-headed and delirious.

My teeth scraped my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood to drown out my moans.

Just when I’d stopped shaking…he did it again.

And when he decided to stop torturing me, he sat up on his haunches, his mouth still glistening with the remnants of my release as he perused every bit of me sprawled before him with burning relish. He studied every curve and corner, every little scar and dip as if he was trying to remember it all. Our eyes locked for a moment and he swiped his tongue over his lips. “I think I’ve got a poor imagination.” He leaned down, trailing kisses up my stomach and my body shivered. “You are fucking delectable.” With one last innocent kiss on my cheek, he dropped beside me before gathering my naked body in his arms.

I shuddered from every little innocent touch he gave me after. Every nerve ending in my body still twitched from the saturated remnants of my pleasure.

My thigh brushed his hardened bulge and I looked up at him, running my hand down his chest and sneaking it between the button space of his shirt to touch his skin. The need to feel him was overwhelming everything. “Let me touch you.” I trailed my fingers down the dent of his hard muscle and felt him twitch under my touch.

“No, love.”

“Why? I want to hear you come, too. I want to taste what is mine, too.”

He shut his eyes tight and groaned as if he was in pain. “Not how I want you to.”

Was he really not going to let me?

He tugged on my cheek. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s breaking my heart.”

With a sigh, I rolled to my side of the bed, and threw the covers over me. “I thank you for your services,” I said with a yawn and heard him chuckle.

He wrapped an arm around me and buried his face in my hair. “And I thank you for the meal.”

I writhed in his hold. “I don’t like being held.” Liar. I was angry. I wanted to have a taste of him, too. To know what he sounded like when he came. I wanted to see him as he saw me. I wanted him to be at my mercy, too. Just the thoughts poured pure rage in me.