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“Gamble!” she begged, as he did something so sinful with his mouth that it nearly took her over the edge.
When his hands clamped down on her thighs, keeping her open to him, and he nipped her, she was done.
Storm couldn’t stop the tumble into the orgasm.
He didn’t stop as she fell into that array of colors and pleasure. Gamble owned that moment.
He owned her heart and soul.
She gasped.
Her body bowed.
Her hands clenched in the fabric of their bedding like his had done.
“More,” she begged, as they had that intimate connection. The man had a truly wicked mouth.
Hallelujah.
Storm never thought she’d like sex again. With him…she’d been wrong.
She loved it.
Storm was addicted to this overwhelming, delicious sensation. Someone had a lethal mouth, and he was using it on her.
Gamble enjoyed her orgasm and kept going. He swirled his tongue around her clit and then felt that control snap.
Oh, he wanted her begging.
Screaming.
Cumming.
He held nothing back as he drove her wild. Gamble wanted her to never want another man again. He wanted her to love him so much, they couldn’t exist apart.
He craved that connection.
With only her.
Once more, he had her on the cusp of tumbling, and this time, he roughly worked her clit until she shouted his name.
He could taste the sweetness that was his Storm like honey on his tongue, and it made him want to scream in rage.
So he did.
Only, no one heard it.
The dream punished him.
“Gamble!” she gasped as he flicked his tongue over that sensitive bud and stole her breath.
With any other woman, he wouldn’t go down. On Storm, he’d dine all day on her.
Willingly.
When he spread her wider, feasting on her and that telltale wetness, she came again.
“Mine,” he said, watching her body react to that orgasm. Her nipples puckered, her skin had goosebumps, and her thighs shook.
