Under His Wings(49)

“No fair,” she grumbled. “This is for you.” His long fingers flexed against her ass cheeks and she wiggled into the caress.

“Oh, I agree,” he said, hunger bright in his eyes, imprinted on his face. “And I can’t wait to have it.”

Appalled shock mixed with arousal. He couldn’t possibly mean… His fingertips traced the crease that bisected her bottom. Oh yeah. She groaned, dismayed at the streak of pleasure that coiled in her gut at the taboo touch. He definitely meantthat.

Shaken by her decided lack of horror and abhorrence to the idea of Nicolai kneeling behind her, filling her in a place only her gynecologist had breached, Tamar closed her eyes and shivered before continuing on her journey.

She skimmed her lips over his chin, down the strong column of his throat to the wide expanse of his chest. Her tongue traced every whorl and line of his tattoo, worshipped every bit of honey-and-butter skin that covered his massive upper body. Even his fingers received attention—she sucked each digit between her pursed lips, flicking the blunt tips. He grunted and his hips jerked.

Hmmm… She smiled against his ridged abdomen. She’d discovered a new erogenous zone to be lingered over later. She swirled her tongue in the shallow bowl of his navel then roamed lower to the concave cradle of his pelvic bone. Beneath her, Nicolai stiffened, apparently surmising her eventual destination. His chest rose and fell and his hips rolled restlessly. The turgid length of his cock grazed her cheek as she knelt between his spread legs and his musky scent of heather and sex enveloped her.

Her mouth watered for a taste of him. Anticipation, hot and urgent, pulsed in her veins. Her pussy clenched and cream spilled from between her lips. She remembered his silken column on her tongue in their dreams. Damn, she wanted it. Needed it.

Settling on her heels, Tamar fisted his cock. A long, tortured moan rolled from above her head as he bowed into her hand and gripped the blankets beneath him. Even in the middle of passion he considered her, avoided causing her pain by not tugging on her hair and irritating the cut on her scalp.

Wow. She blinked. He must be the only man on the planet to be altruistic while receiving head.

She swiped the flat of her tongue over the swollen tip of his cock that reminded her of a ripe peach. On a moan of pure delight, she sucked him deep. Her lips stretched wide around the stalk of flesh that was almost as thick as his wrist. She slid his cock deep into her mouth, pumping the broad lower half with short, tight strokes.

“Tamar,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “Suck it, sweetheart. Suck it harder for me.”

She hollowed her cheeks, giving him the suction he desired. The taste of him exploded in her mouth. Like a summer breeze over the ocean—warm, good, sweet with a touch of salt. She moaned, slid her tongue along the underside of his cock while increasing the pull of her mouth. Inching higher on her knees, she angled her head over the throbbing column and swallowed another inch of him. The bulbous head nudged the back of her throat and the narrow opening tightened. Hunger and determination overrode the reflex and like in her dreams, Tamar relaxed, breathed through her nose and allowed the tip of his cock head to enter her throat passage.

A raw, primitive growl that was nowhere near human rumbled from him and reverberated through the room. Something just as old awakened inside her, lifted its head and reached out toward that sound—as if a strange being inhabited her body and had been hibernating until the moment he’d called it to life. Her mouth slackened for a moment and a sliver of fear pierced her heavy haze of desire.

But as quickly as it appeared, the weird, unsettling sensation vanished as if it had never been. She lifted her head, pressed a kiss to the gleaming slitted tip. Her gaze traveled up the long, tense length of Nicolai and lust slammed into her with the force of a freight train. His large body arched like a tautly strung bow, head thrown back against the blankets. Tendons corded his neck, bulging under his skin.

Jesus, he was amazing. A primal, magnificent beast whether in man or hippogryph form.

Need tore through her, the sight of him as arousing as the pulsing cock in her hand. She captured his sac in one hand and squeezed the widest, thickest part of his shaft near the base. Another of those growls roared in the air and her pussy responded with a flex and a spurt of cream that coated her lips.

She recaptured him with her mouth, taking him deep and hard. Her head bobbed over his cock, greedy, with little care for technique or skill. She just wanted—wanted his dick in her mouth, her throat. Wanted his seed to fill her.

“Tamar,” he said, and the voice carried more beast than man. “Take it. Deeper. Open for me. Open.”