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“Oh my God,” she moaned. “I swear I had a dream just like this.”

I felt a moment of guilt–it was probably brought on by the way I’d touched her cheek while she was sleeping the other night.

“Did the dream bother you?” I murmured.

“No.” She shook her head. “I just can’t…can’t believe it’s coming true. Ohhh…”

Her words ended in a moan as I continued to caress her breasts.

“So responsive,” I growled, my thumbs circling those taut peaks, feeling them pucker even tighter. “So perfect. Tell me, Celeste… does this feel good?”

“Y-yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Oh, God, yes…”

“I want to taste you.” The words were out before I could temper them, raw with a hunger I hadn’t allowed myself to fully acknowledge. I dipped my head and took one tight peak into my mouth.

“Oh, Garrik!”

I loved the sound of my name on her lips. My tongue swirled around her nipple, laving it, sucking gently at first, then with more pressure. My hand cupped her other breast, kneading, rolling the nipple between my fingers in time with the pulls of my mouth.

“Oh…oh my God!” Celeste gasped.

She was writhing now, little helpless movements of her hips against my thigh, her breaths coming in ragged pants.

“Garrik… please…” she begged.

“Please what, my witch?” I lifted my head, my lips glistening. Her nipple was a deep, rosy pink. “Tell me what you need,” I growled softly.

“I don’t know…more. More everything.”

Her eyes were glazed, and her cheeks flushed with pleasure. The last vestiges of her embarrassment had burned away in the fire we were stoking. She was a creature of need now–of sexual desire and I loved it.

“Then you shall have it,” I promised, my voice rough with lust.

I continued my descent, my mouth blazing a trail down the soft planes of her stomach. I kissed the gentle swell and nuzzled the dip of her navel, my hands smoothing over the generous curves of her hips.

She was trembling with need now, her thighs falling open in a silent invitation. The scent of her arousal, feminine and sweet, filled the air, and it was the most potent magic I’d ever encountered.

I settled between her thighs, looking up the length of her body. She was propped on her elbows, watching me, her silver-streaked hair a cloud around her shoulders, her lips parted. She was a vision of generous, ripe beauty, offered to me. A feast after a century of famine.

“By the Ancients, Celeste,” I breathed, the words reverent. “You are breathtaking.”

My hands moved over her thighs, spreading her wider for my view. Her inner pussy was already slick and swollen, glistening in the firelight. The sight alone was nearly enough to undo me. I leaned in, but didn’t touch her with my mouth. Not yet. Instead, I blew a soft, warm stream of air directly over her exposed clit.

She jerked, a sharp cry falling from her lips.

“Oh!”

“So sensitive,” I murmured, a smile touching my lips. I did it again, watching her quiver. “Exquisitely so.”

Only then did I lower my mouth.

The first touch of my tongue was a flat, slow lick from the very bottom of her slit all the way to the top. She tasted of salt and honey and pure, undiluted Celeste. A flavor I knew I would crave for eternity.

A broken moan came from her lips.

“Yes… like that…” she begged, her hips lifting off the bed.

Pleased with her response, I went on. I established a rhythm, long, languorous strokes designed to coat her thoroughly, to learn every fold and contour. I lavished attention on her outer lips, suckling gently, before focusing on the treasure within. I circled her entrance, teasing, dipping the very tip of my tongue inside to taste her honey straight from the source.