Free Dragonfly Kisses by Sabrina York

the curve of her hips. And then, finally, as though he had been thinking of anything else, to the juncture of her thighs.
    Her heat met him.
    He lifted his head and found her gaze as he cupped her mound. She shivered. “Dylan.” She mouthed his name. A wordless plea.
    He responded. Because he knew. He knew what she wanted. And he wanted it too.
    He slipped beneath the band of her delightfully innocent white cotton panties and traced her crease. Just traced it.
    Her animalistic growl rumbled around him.
    “You like this?” The words stuck in his throat. He felt like a schoolboy on an illicit date. Excited and worried and horny as hell.
    “More.” A groan. “More.”
    Watching her expression like the predator he was, he delved deeper between her steamy folds. Nudged her clit. Teased the tip. She hissed in a breath and threw back her head. He circled her. Her thighs spread wider. Hips pumped with impatient demand.
    But still, he teased her, reveling in the warm cream coating her slit.
    He chuckled when she pushed him away, sat up and ripped her panties off.
    He didn’t even notice where they fell. Didn’t care. Because now she lay bare before him.
    Cassie.
    Something shifted inside him. The sweet, patient man, determined to tease and delight her, faded. What rose up in his place was a beast. A hungry, snarling beast driven by the urge to have her, possess her, fuck her.
    He wrenched her thighs apart, baring her core. Her scent, arousal and heat wafted toward him, enflaming him. His heart battered his chest in a manic tattoo.
    He couldn’t help it. He buried his face in her crotch. Breathing her in. Tasting her. Consuming her. She squealed a little at the ferocity of his attack, but she spread her legs wider and, after a minute, began pushing up, mutely demanding more and more.
    So he gave it to her.
    Licking her juices, nuzzling and nipping at her swollen clit, he eased two fingers inside. And nearly lost his mind. Nearly came right then and there. She was hot inside. Hot and slick and tight as ever loving hell. Blistering need coiled around the base of his cock and he groaned. He pulled out and shoved in deeper, with more force.
    She stiffened. Clenched. Came around him.
    He had to look up. Had to watch. Had to see the ecstasy on her features.
    It was too exquisite to end. So he played with her, extending her rapture, toying with her, exploring her, finding and stroking the spot that made her gasp, made her quake, made her whip her head from side to side and wail.
    She was a wild thing in the grip of passion.
    But as much as he enjoyed tormenting her, his cock ached. His soul ached. He wanted nothing—nothing—more than to sink into her sweet embrace.
    Still working her, he fumbled with the nightstand drawer until he found the box of condoms. He cursed himself for not opening it earlier, not preparing as he should have. It was a bitch to open with one hand, but he did—ripping it to shreds in the process—and yanked out a foil packet.
    He opened it with his teeth and, his gaze still locked to Cassie’s exquisite countenance, he slipped the condom on.
    She watched him from beneath feathery lashes, a lazy smile on her lips as he positioned himself over her. She spread her legs again, welcoming him, her palm on his hip, guiding him.
    Little did she know, he needed no such guidance.
    His cock was a heat-seeking missile.
    He fisted himself and nudged her. She sighed and lifted her hips, just a tad. He eased in. His mind seized.
    She was so tight. Her cunt was like a vise.
    His eyes crossed. His pulse pounded. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
    “God,” he hissed, pushing deeper and deeper still. “God.”
    “Dy-lan.” Her voice broke on his name. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and clung to him, working him with her inner muscles. The pleasure nearly blinded him.
    He hadn’t been inside a woman for three years. It was worth the wait.
    She was worth the wait.
    He took a moment, seated