Hunted(51)

“Let me…” she began to say, leaning to move down his body.

He caught her with a quick denial and pressed her back onto the ground, kissing her hard.

Their teeth clashed, tongues locked in battle.

Partway on top of her now, she spread her legs wide and he finished rucking her dress to her waist. Sitting on his knees between her legs, he stared down at her sex, with his trousers shoved down his muscular thighs.

He stared at her quim, covered in white lace with a golden patch of hair. He rubbed his thumb over her panties, wetness coating his finger. His teeth gnawed on his bottom lip; beads of sweat had formed at his forehead. His breathing grew deeper too. Heavier. This excited him, which only ramped her passions higher.

Suddenly he bared his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes, and he yanked her panties down with brute strength. Material snapped, tore. Ripped, he threw the panties away, forgotten. Her exposed quim lay in wait for him. He licked his lips looking at her, then ran his thumb gently across her wet folds.

From bud to center, he stroked more and more. Pressing deeper, harder.

“A little wet,” he said, his voice no more than a rasp.

All she could do was nod in agreement.

“God, I want to taste you.”

Her heart skipped a beat as he spread her knees wide and pushed her thighs open as he gazed her.

“Pink and ripe…the best kind of quim to—” he stopped himself from finishing the statement, grinning.

Penelope gave him a lopsided grin understanding full well what he meant.

His head lowered and he buried his tongue in her folds. Licking and tasting, fingers stroked teasingly outside of her body, daring to dip the barest of inches inside her. To tease her with what could be. Or, with what would be, she corrected.

She didn’t expect it. The pleasure had already been so intense, her sex dripping for him. He smeared her arousal around, licking her up before settling in on her bud. Stiff, it waited for him, and he worked it with stabbing focus, quick magical flicks that bowed her back off the dirt and buried her most precious part against his face.

She grabbed onto his shoulders, the material of his shirt bunching in her clammy fists. She writhed against his twirling tongue, against his face—aching to find the release pent up inside her. He nuzzled her heated flesh, fingers teasing her entrance when she wished they’d slam inside her.

Breaths grew erratic. He made an ardent growl against her and that was it.

Shivering in chaotic spasms, she came apart by the seams.

Back bowing, she burst in waves coming from deep within the pit of her stomach and radiating outward. He groaned against her bud, working her flesh faster to prolong the sensations.

Vision blackened. Only pleasure consumed her. Enveloped her.

His fingers gently speared inside her wet sheathe, her sex muscles milking his fingers as she quivered in the vestiges of climax. The pleasure gently swept away like a receding wave from the shoreline. Ryon pulled back from her licking his lips.

Boneless,yet unfulfilled. That’s how she felt.

Unable to take the sight of her juices on his lips, she pulled herself up by his hair and kissed it all away. Her flavor mixed with his masculine taste created a delicious, wicked flavor she’d never forget.

He yanked himself away, frustration and hunger guiding his movements. He whipped off his shirt. She lifted up to help him as much as possible, but his cock caught her attention and once again she fisted him.

Pump, pump.

His stomach muscles twitched and flexed as he fought for control.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Shouldn’t do that, love.”

“Why’s that?”

She had a feeling she knew the answer.

Pump, squeeze, stroke.

He shuddered before pulling her hand away. “Or I’m going to come on you and not in you. As your husband, I demand our first time be inside my wife’s body.”

Fire sparkled in her eyes. Just when she thought he couldn’t possibly make her hotter—he did.

“Please do.”

It was the only thing she could think to say.

Apparently it spoke to him, because he finished divesting of his clothes, then climbed back atop her, his weight deliciously heavy. His warm chest flattening her breasts. She felt suffocated with his strength and loved every second of it.

His lips found hers again. Slow and gentle, the pace easing to slow lapping movements. Gentle moans floated around them, the air filled with the scent of sex. She gripped the solid muscles of his back, wanting him to know with every touch, every kiss how much she loved him.

His hips moved between her thighs. His cock fell atop her sex and he pumped his hips, her wetness making him glide easily across her quim.

The way he bumped her tight bundle of nerves made her breath catch. More than that, inside, an ache formed in the pit of her. An ache that panged with each mimicked thrust he performed. It wanted him. It needed him to perform this very same task, but inside her body. She wanted her husband.