She lifted her hands and rested on his shoulders and the grin on his
face disappeared, obviously wondering if she would shove him away, deny the
pledge she’d just made. When she twined her fingers in his hair, he closed his
eyes briefly. He blew on the other nipple and resisted the pull of her hands to
close the gap between his mouth and her aching flesh.
If he didn’t do something, she was going to die. Her hips,
still held immobile by his body, shifted restlessly, her pussy wet and needy.
Finally, he flicked his tongue over her breast and she
moaned. Then, he sucked it into his warm mouth and she couldn’t breathe. Magic.
His mouth was magic. Faster, harder he sucked her until, suddenly, her orgasm hovered
close. When his teeth caught her nipple as his tongue wrapped around it, she
dropped over the edge. His mouth branded her, owned her, and she reveled in it.
Her pulsating core arched toward his cock, desperate for him to complete the
connection that had clicked into place. Her scream echoed in the room and her
body writhed. Oh stars! No one had ever made her come from sucking her tit.
He raised his head, his face dark and forbidding. He still
had his hand twined in her hair and he angled her head with a jerk that made
her dizzy. “You belong to me, Alexandra Zeerah.” He growled the words.
She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. Not when she had to
bite her lip to keep from begging him to finish her, fuck her, complete her.
And what was this warm, safe feeling when he said it? It both frightened her
and thrilled her.
But all her thoughts scattered when his mouth descended and
took possession of hers. Any thought of resisting, had there been any,
disappeared when his tongue thrust inside her mouth, claimed her. She returned
his kiss, receiving him enthusiastically. Her hands buried in his hair, her
body beneath his, his mouth fused to hers all sent her flying into another
world where nothing mattered but this moment, this man.
The tangle of tongues and limbs seemed to go on forever, but
he broke the kiss to stare at her for several seconds. She stared back. His
stare challenged her and he seemed to be waiting. What was he waiting for?
Did he need her to say more? Do more? Maybe he did. With
shaking fingers, she reached down and yanked on the buttons of his trousers.
She shoved her hand inside and stroked his hard length, her gaze never leaving
his. When she said she surrendered, she had meant it. Her hand pumped his cock
and he groaned, his hips moving to increase the speed.
“Alexandra,” he groaned, and his eyes drifted closed.
While he was distracted, she shifted and flipped their
positions. Her hand gripped his cock and he tumbled onto his back until she
straddled him. His hands grabbed her hips as if he were going to toss her off
him, but she kept the firm strokes on his penis.
There was only one way to show him, prove to him, that she
meant it when she said the words. She let go of his cock to grip his pants,
yank them off his legs and toss them away. She met his gaze with hers briefly.
His expression was wary, uncertain, and filled with intense desire. She bent
down, her hair drifting over his thighs, and slid her tongue over the length of
him. His hips jerked and his breath stuttered, the sound of it spurring her on.
Focusing on the moisture at the tip of his cock, she licked
it and then dipped her tongue deeper. His groan made her pussy throb. If he
could go excruciatingly slowly, so could she. She savored the taste of him, the
feel of him. His hands fumbled in her hair, all his earlier finesse gone as he
tried to increase the pressure of her mouth on his cock. She chuckled and he
made a guttural, feral sound that made her heart pound. If she belonged to him,
this proved it went both ways. Pure sexual satisfaction rippled along her
nerves.
Finally, she took almost all of him into her mouth, reveling
in the way his hips lifted and his head dropped back. She swallowed, the tip of
his cock at