Page 27 of Not Mine to Rescue

“Random.” Her hand pressed on my head, her fingers diving into my hair. The sharp points of her fingernails skimmed my scalp as her grip tightened.

“Let me play, little mama.”

“I’m not— don’t call me that. Please?”

“Baby?”

The head shake was more violent. “How about sweetheart?”

Her nod was hesitant. I was losing her. I thought about all the ways I could shorten her name, but asked instead. Honey was what others called her, but also that asshole’s nickname for her. I’d be damned if I ever called her that. “What should I shorten your name to?”

Her mouth worked on a reply. “Nora?”

“Is that what you truly want me to call you?”

Her hesitation was palpable. “My favorite nickname is Honor. But no one calls me that anymore.”

Perfection. Not only could I give her that piece of identity back, it might shove aside any delusions that I was too young. I lowered my voice to a serious note. “Honor, I’m going to eat your pussy now, do you understand?”

Her nod was slightly frantic.

That deserved the most drawn-out, sex-infused, “Good girl” I could create.

Her head went back with a groan toward the ceiling. “That’s just as sexy as I remembered.”

I pressed my tongue flat against the lace panel between her legs and groaned slowly. My tones pitched so low it rumbled.

A squeal of pleasure slipped into the air. On its heels was a softly exclaimed, “Holy shit.”

A very good girl, indeed.

My finger hooked the fabric to pull it out of the way. I tasted her for the first time without barriers, and it was everything I’d been dreaming about for two months.

Her feet shuffled wider, and I ate her out as best I could with the limited angle I had. Which was shit. I stopped and lifted her off her feet and planted her ass on my bed. Then with a tug, I placed her where I had the best access to undress her. Her hips hung off the edge and her underwear came off in one swift slide. It was almost indecent, how easy it all was.

She gasped and stared at me.

“Legs open.”

Her knees clamped together.

Bad girl. I didn’t say it, but I wanted to. Instead, I slid my hands up her calves and pressed my thumbs into the little gap of space below her kneecaps. “Open for me, or you’ll never know if you can come twice.”

The resistance faded and her knees fell open.

I licked the soft skin of her thigh. What a good, sweet, soft, sensual woman. The scent of her drove me crazy. This was what it was all about. The heady fragrance, the slick of her natural lubrication, the patterns of her most private sexual lips. I was lost. Sucked up into my head and falling into madness with each of her cries, the gasps, the sharp bite of her talons in my hair. God, this woman had everything I’d ever wanted and more.

Chapter Eight

Honoria

I’d orgasmed a flutter or five when he buried his face against my panties. Did that count? But those minor tremors were nothing compared to the sexual tsunami I tried to hold back. His tongue was magic, plain and simple. And oh, damn, I couldn’t stop the flood of emotion that broke me. I cried a little, screamed louder than I ever had, and my pussy pulsed like someone set a live wire against it. It was embarrassing how wet I was.

Yet, I honestly didn’t feel shame. This was too damn good to be real. My headache from before floated around the edges of bliss as I tried to articulate words to thank Wombat for the hottest orgasm of my life.

But he wasn’t done.

The tip of his tongue flicked against my clit, and I arched into a hard pulse of near pain. Holy shit. “Please?” Stop? More? I didn’t know. My brain had completely short-circuited.