Night of the Tiger(51)

“I could have had Sandra if all I wanted was a quick, hard fuck. A succubus will do anything.” He separated the folds of her sex with his thumbs and flicked his tongue over her clit. Lightning bolts of pleasure shot to the rest of her body and she moaned. Not even the mention of Sandra could kill the mood, not when he was touching her like that.

Roric drew his tongue over her slick folds, delving into every one. “But she left me cold.”

Okay, maybe it could dim the mood somewhat. “I don’t want to talk about her,” she groaned.

Then he touched her again and Aimee couldn’t think. Not with his clever tongue making every nerve in her body tingle. And certainly not with his thumbs stroking over her pussy.

“Do you understand me?”

She shook her head, not understanding what he wanted from her. He growled, long and low. Aimee shivered at the barely restrained violence she sensed lurking just below the thin veneer of civility that surrounded Roric. He was as elemental and relentless as the ocean tides.

He pressed two long fingers past her opening. She was tight, but he was unstoppable, not pausing until his fingers were buried in her pussy. He pulled his fingers out slowly, curving them upward as he did so.

A cry broke from her lips as he hit an incredibly sensitive spot inside her. She was panting hard now, sweat beading on her brow. There wasn’t enough air in the room for her to breathe.

“You are mine,” he continued. His tone was hard and firm. “Your sweet cream belongs to me.” He lapped at her core, sucking her clit until she was almost blind with pleasure. Sitting back on his heels, he blew over her heated flesh. Aimee gripped his hair in her fists, desperately trying to draw him back to her.

“Your skin is so soft.” Ignoring her painful grip on his hair, he rubbed his cheek against her thigh. Her inner muscles contracted. Cream trickled down the inside of her left thigh. “Your cunt is hot and wet and mine.”

“Roric,” she pleaded. She needed to come or she was going to go out of her mind. The man was torturing her with pleasure.

“Tell me you believe me. Tell me you know that I want you.”

“You want me,” she panted.

He nodded. “What do you want?”

“You,” she groaned. “I want you.”

Stretching out his right hand, he drew his index finger over her clit. Aimee cried out.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” His tone was hard and unrelenting. She knew then that she’d hurt him when she’d suggested he’d slept with her to gain her cooperation. It was an odd feeling to know that she could affect him in such a way. Made her feel not quite so alone with her out-of-control emotions.

“Yes. Fuck me.”

Roric stilled. She sensed every muscle within him was coiled and ready to spring. “Are you sure?”

Even now he was giving her a chance to back away. She tugged on his hair one final time. “Yes,” she cried. She had to have him inside before she went mad.

He moved so fast he was nothing but a blur. Surging to his feet, he whirled her around until she was facing the wall. “Lean forward.”

She did as he asked. The motion exposed her pussy to him. She was still wearing her sweater and bra. Her jeans and panties were wrapped around her ankles. Yet she felt more exposed, more vulnerable, than if she’d been totally naked. That’s what Roric was demanding of her—total surrender. She trusted him with her body, trusted him not to hurt her.

The sound of leather ties being tugged open reached her ears. Then she felt the hard press of his cock head against her opening. With her legs partially hobbled, it was a tight fit. His erection was wide, the girth of it stretching her with every inch he sank into her. Keeping one hand on her belly, he flexed his hips and pushed deeper. When he was seated to the hilt, he wrapped his other arm around her, holding her steady.

Cool air flowed over her exposed skin. The stark comparison to the heat radiating from her was incredibly erotic. Her fingers stretched over the flat wall to keep herself steady. The thundering of her heart drowned out all other sound. She could smell the musk from Roric’s skin, feel his hands against her body.

He pulled his shaft almost all the way out before surging inward. Aimee gasped. She was stretched to the point of pain, but it felt amazingly good. Roric set a punishing rhythm, slamming into her over and over again in short, hard strokes.

Her feet left the floor several times as he pounded his flesh against hers. His balls slapped against her pussy. She pushed back to meet him with every stroke, driving him impossibly deep. Her inner muscles clenched hard. His cock swelled and pulsed.

She fell forward, unable to hold herself upright any longer. Resting her cheek against the wall, she reached behind with her right hand, desperate to touch him. She gripped his hip, digging her short nails into his flesh