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She sucked in a breath and moaned. “How shameful.”
“Indeed.” His finger traced over her mouth, pulling her lips apart. He cupped her jaw possessively, sliding his hand down to her throat until his long fingers cuffed her there. “Show me how wicked it is.”
Her motions slowed as she met his stare. His unmistakable desire became her own. Like a slave to his needs, more than happy to serve him when his pleasure became her own, she shifted off him and scooted back.
“Is this how you want me?”
He groaned as she kneeled between his parted thighs. “Delilah, my love, I want you so many ways it would be impossible to pick just one position.”
Her chest warmed and she scooted closer, stroking his engorged cock with both hands. His flesh glistened with her arousal, the scent of sex mingling in the air. She licked the thick vein climbing up his shaft, and his cock reached for her mouth like a flower seeking the sun.
His nostrils flared and he growled when she licked him again, this time encircling the smooth tip with her teasing tongue. His fists tightened at his sides.
His stare never left her, nor did the vision of her on her knees pleasuring him once he’d purposefully planted it into her mind. She was watching him watching her, while also watching herself through his eyes, taking it all in and reveling in every reverberating ripple of pleasure.
When she sucked his cock into her mouth his hips bucked, and his hand pressed at the nape of her neck, urging her lower. The thick tip hit the back of her throat and she moaned.
“That’s it, pintura.” He let out a string of foreign words. Without knowing what he said, she knew his words were profane.
“Lutsche.” His fist knotted in her hair, dragging her mouth up and down his shaft, leaving the skin slick and wet. “Haerzhafdich.” He held her to him, her throat full and her lips smashed against his pelvis. When it was impossible to take him any deeper, he purred. “Yetz schlucke.”
Her shoulders bunched reflexively and her eyes watered. She had no knowledge of the language he spoke, until the English translation rolled through his mind. Suck. Nice and hard. Now swallow.
She followed his every command, feeling his incredible pleasure as if it were her own, all the while taking him deeper than she’d ever dreamed. When he let her up, she gasped for breath and looked at him through watery eyes.
“Beautiful.”
As he dragged his finger over her mouth, she noticed how swollen her lips were. Seeing herself through his eyes, she gasped at the sight of her fangs. “Did I hurt you?”
“My pain comes only from wanting more of you.” He lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t stop.”
Lowering her head, she took him in her mouth again, sucking him with long, deep strokes until he was panting her name and thrusting hard. When he was ready, she sensed it. His release built within both of them, so potent and intense concentration became impossible.
He threw her to her back and slammed into her, stabbing deep and burying his face in her hair as he climaxed inside of her. The briefest thought about children and birth control crossed her mind, but it was chased away by too many delicious sensations.
Their bodies trembled in unrefined bliss as her pleasure gave way to his and his returned to hers. It was an incredible cycle she’d never experienced before, one she didn’t wish to end.
When their bodies finally collapsed, she panted in a state of stunned euphoria and weakly gave him a thumbs up. “Intimacy for the win.”
He chuckled, lacing his fingers with hers as their heads rested side by side. “It will only get better with time.”
“Better than that?”
He met her stare and smiled. “Better than anything you could possibly imagine.”
She let that sink in then frowned. “How do you know?”
Possessive jealousy slithered through her. Had he been with someone else? Had another mate? It should have angered her, but instead it broke her heart.
“Easy, little one. I only know what we are taught. There’s no one else.”
Her relief was instantaneous.
He kissed her temple. “But I’m glad to see I’m not the only territorial one.”
One would have to be emotionally invested to feel possessive. She had no claim to him. Didn’t want one.
He chuckled again and lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles where their fingers entwined. “I’m yours, pintura. There’s no shame in that. I’ll be there whenever you have need.”
Her stomach growled and she blushed. All humor disappeared from his easy expression.
“You’re hungry.”
She was. There was no point in denying it. “I can’t eat another peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“I’m not sure you’ll like the other options.”
If he meant blood, he was right. “Do you have eggs?”
