Free Bitten by Ecstasy: 2 (Dark Judgment) by Naima Simone Page B

fucking hungry it hurt.
    An animalistic roar erupted from him seconds before he lowered his head and dived into her pussy. He tried to be gentle, to ease her into the intimacy. But he couldn’t draw back, couldn’t pull away from the source of her scent, from the headiest taste he’d ever consumed. He dragged his tongue through her folds, drowning in the juice that nourished both man and beast.
    Circling her clit, he suckled on the tiny morsel of flesh, gloried in her savage cry. Sinéad tunneled her fingers through his hair, her nails scratched his scalp. Abandoning the nerve-laden button, he shoved her legs wider apart, dropped his head and stabbed his tongue into her sex, thrusting as deep as he could reach. Shifting a hand, he plucked at her clit and, with one last stroke into her grasping sheath, Sinéad came apart on his mouth.
    He devoured every last drop of fresh morning dew flooding his mouth. Yet…even as the hunger was satisfied, another rose within him.
    Ripping at him, demanding he take. Drink.
    Fangs exploded from his gums.
    No. Fuck, no.
    The cry echoed through his head even as he sank his teeth into her thigh…
    “Bastien!”
    He leapt from the sofa, throwing the light blanket aside and somersaulting in the air to alight on the hardwood floor in a crouch. Air punched out of his lungs in ragged, painful bursts. His name rang in his ears along with the faint echo of hot blood on his tongue. That dream. Fuck. It had been so real—more so than all those that had preceded it. He ran his tongue along the edges of his teeth, but no fangs. No sweet, thick cream from a tight, slick pussy. His chest heaved. A dream. That’s all it’d been.
    The slap of bare feet reverberated across the hardwood. His head jerked up. In the pearly shadows preceding dawn, Sinéad’s larger, slimmer silhouette flew downstairs, through the living room entrance and barreled toward him. Without hesitation or thought, his hand snapped out, nabbed her around the waist and shoved her behind him. A growl rolled in the back of his throat, his heart slammed against his chest as he scanned the dim living room and the murkier darkness of the hallway beyond.
    “ Sweet Nef! ”
    Shooting to his full height, Bastien spun on the soles of his feet. The sharp tips of his talons pierced his fingertips, his thighs tensed as he crouched, ready to meet the threat that had somehow skirted past him to take position at his rear. With Sinéad. He skimmed over her t-shirt-clad body then shifted his scrutiny over her shoulder, inspecting the immediate area. After a few moments he noted nothing but the long stretch of the lumpy couch, the coffee table and pale-blue blanket he’d thrown over the table when he’d been jerked from sleep.
    “Sinéad,” he snarled. Exasperated and more than a little annoyed, he slowly straightened to his full height. Shit, after hours on that damn torture rack she called a sofa, he’d just fallen off to sleep a couple of hours earlier only to have the hot as hell dream about her. “What the hell—”
    “ You’re naked! ”
    The scandalized rasp penetrated his irritation. And for the first time, he noticed the wide silver eyes, the lovely slackened features and the sensual curve of her bottom lip that had fallen away from its full, bowed mate. Her shocked gaze was centered on the lower half of his body—more specifically, his cock. Which chose that moment to lengthen and flex against his thigh as if preening under her dismayed fascination.
    Her gasp echoed in the silence an instant before she wheeled around, giving him her back. The hem of her black over-sized t-shirt brushed against the backs of her knees, the dark tail of her hair grazing the swell of her ass. The rumble in his chest emanated from a different source than his earlier snarl. Desire, still running high and demanding from the remnants of his dream-turned-nightmare, tore through him like the destructive whip of a wild funnel cloud. The onslaught yanked at