Free My Sister Is a Werewolf by Kathy Love Page B

shifted forward a little more, his lips just grazing her. The tickle of her curls, the searing moisture, the scent. Damn.
    This time, she sat up. Her knees pushed against his shoulders.
    He moved back, looking up at her. Her pale eyes held easily readable uncertainty now. Her full lips pulled down at the corners.
    “You don’t have to do that. I’m ready for you.”
    He blinked at her words. Businesslike and informative. Not at all what he was feeling. He was on fire; he was out of his mind to get his tongue on her.
    “I’m glad you’re ready. But I’m not.”
    She frowned at that, her gaze flicking down toward his crotch, which she couldn’t see from her angle on the tabletop.
    He chuckled ruefully. “Okay, I’m ready. But I’m not ready to stop touching you.”
    He slid his palms up her thighs, nudging her back into a reclining position. He moved back toward the apex of her thighs.
    “Or to stop tasting you,” he murmured as he ran his tongue up the pink fold of her sex.
    Elizabeth cried out as Jensen’s tongue parted her, tasted her. She had to brace her arms to keep from falling back on the table and writhing under his amazing mouth. What was he doing?
    She wasn’t so naïve that she hadn’t heard of a male pleasuring a female with his tongue and lips. But she’d never experienced it. It wasn’t something she’d wanted from... anyone other than this man.
    He swirled his tongue, focusing his attention on her clitoris, his tongue hot and raspy against her. Then the velvety brush of his lips, then followed by the occasional fleeting hard edge of his teeth. Then that amazing tongue again.
    “Jensen,” she murmured, knowing his name sounded like a religious word on her lips. But she’d never known. Never believed that she could want this so badly. That she could enjoy the want so much.
    Then his lips closed around the straining bud, the center of all her sensations. He pulled on her, suckling the hypersensitive flesh to the point of near pain.
    She moaned, bucking her hips. He licked her, more swirling, more long rasps.
    She collapsed back against the table, unable to hold herself any longer. And still he continued, each sweep of his tongue more intense than the last. Until she could barely catch her breath—she could barely even remember to breathe. Then he suckled her again.
    Lights, brilliant starbursts of color, exploded behind her closed eyelids. Through her body. Wave after wave of lights, of pure sensation, of ecstasy.
    Then Jensen was levered over her, entering her in one thrust. Her body clenched him, as if seizing onto him in desperation. In an attempt to keep some hold on her sanity. But the thickness of him, the stretch of her body to accommodate his size, only heightened the other sensations radiating through her. A kaleidoscope of release.
    She cried out again, her voice sounding hoarse, as if she’d been crying out over and over. Maybe she had. She couldn’t recall. She couldn’t remember anything beyond Jensen, and his body moving inside hers. Powerful strokes, rocking her toward something that was life-changing.
    You should be scared, she thought, even as she anchored her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper inside her.
    You should stop. She’d have laughed at the ludicrous impossibility of that thought if she’d been able, but only another gasp, another moan, another strangled repeat of his name escaped her lips.
    She opened her eyes to find Jensen watching her, his eyes hooded but his expression intense, as if he was memorizing her every reaction. And that look, that intensity, was the trigger that threw her over the edge again, headlong into the abyss of release.
    “Jensen,” she breathed, then locked him tight to her, keeping him buried fully inside her as she shuddered around him. And he pulsed in response, his body tensing as his wet heat filled her.

 
    Chapter 7
     
    S lowly reality seeped in, the lovely blur of her release fading, focus returning from the edges toward