Page 81 of Blood Lust

I can feel wetness pooling between my thighs as I spread them and allow Oz to settle himself there. A hand slides down my hip, over my thigh, and cups the back of my knee, forcing it to bend so he can prop it up. His kisses trail lower, over my collarbone, and between the valley of my breasts. My nipples harden, and I moan as Oz takes one into his mouth.

Teeth and tongue torture me, nipping bit of pain here, soothing warmth there. Kneading my other breast as he did so causes me to arch my back into him, seeking more, yearning for him. His hands settle at my waist and push me back against the bed, his strength putting me where he wants me. His lips forge a path down my ribs, over my stomach, and to the junction of my thighs where I want him most.

Hot, moist breath tickles my curls, a shiver zips up my backbone with anticipation of him. Oz taunts me with a soft kiss against my clit, using hardly any pressure, and then his knuckles drag against my opening. “Baby, you’re already so wet,” he croons, his voice low and husky. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” I hear him chuckling, pleased with how he makes my body react to being near him.

“Do you want me to kiss you here?” Brushing his fingers against me, I moan with wanting and nod.

“What was that, precious? I thought I heard you say something….” Oh God, he is torturing me.

“Yes.” I breathe.

“Yes, what?” He purposely avoids my entrance and clit, massaging just to the side. I feel myself pulse and twitch with desire.

“I want you to kiss me there.”

“Good girl,” is a whisper before the warmth of Oz’s broad tongue strokes the entirety of my slit. I throw my head back, my fingers tangle in his hair again, and I want to hold him to me as tightly as I can. One finger circles my clit as his tongue enters me, massaging and manipulating my folds. A gentle pinch above, and I buck my hips against his mouth.

Jesus, he knows exactly how to tear me apart.

With expert precision, he moves his mouth upward, focusing on the center of my pleasure. A thick finger enters me, giving me something to grip as his tongue swirls delightful patterns on my clit. Lips closing over it, he sucks me into his mouth. My hands press his face harder against me, and my hips began to move in earnest, chasing what I want.

“Oz,” I moan. “God, yes.”

Another finger joins the first, moving against me, hooking inside of me to reach the place that will send me over the edge. Teeth graze against me, and my body locks in place. I am lost to the wave of pleasure crashing over me, drowning me in Oz. He vibrates against me with the satisfaction of bringing me to my release. It sounds like I am the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

Removing his fingers from me, he laps at my opening with his tongue, taking my new rush of desire in his mouth. Gently he brushes his fingertips against my lips, coercing them open. Sliding them in my mouth, I taste myself and suckle my essence from his fingers. I feel empty, and I need him to fill me, to make me his again.

He crushes his lips to mine, and I moan into the kiss, my pleasure still lingering on his lips. My need grows desperate. “Oz,” I call as he abandons my mouth for my neck again. “God, fuck me.”

I felt his grin on the side of my neck. He brushes his lips to my ear and grasps my throat again. “Ah-ah,” he teases. “What does a good girl say?”

My patience for his game is practically non-existent.

“Now,” I demand, watching as his brows raise upward in surprise. That cocky smirk I both love and hate settles on his face.

“As my little bird commands,” he breathes, sliding his cock against my slickness. Oz places the head of his length at my entrance and presses forward smoothly until he is buried inside of me completely.

The sensation of my mate joining me in this way is undeniably the best thing I can ever hope to experience.

Oz slides himself back until just the tip remains inside me before pressing forward again with a forceful and unhindered thrust. My legs wrap around his waist automatically, arms clutching him to me and nails digging into his back harder with each thrust. I move against him, moaning at the sensation of being joined with him.

“Fuck, Wren,” Oz breaths as he considerably increases his pace, groaning into me as I tighten around him.

So close already.

His thrusts are deep and hard, pulling me apart from the inside out. I am soaring higher and higher until it feels like I will crash into the stars.

Crash, I do.

Breaking apart at the seams, I come completely undone. “Oz,” I breath in an almost silent cry. My muscles clamp down on his cock as he thrusts into me. I can’t think, breathe, or see anything other than his eyes. I pull him in to kiss me, our lips bruising with the force of our passion. As the waves of my orgasm calm, I realize Oz slows his pace and has not yet met me at the height of pleasure.

He pulls himself from me instead, forcing a whimper at the loss of him. He presses my hand to his face, then kisses the inside of my wrist, my palm, and my fingers. He places my hand against his chest and grabs me by the chin, forcing my eyes to focus on his. “Turn around, and hold on to the headboard,” he commands, and something stirs in the depths of me.

“Yes, sir.”

Quaking with excitement and expectation, I obey. Gripping the top of the metal headboard, it is firm, unyielding in my grasp. I can feel him behind me, placing himself at my entrance. This new angle lends itself to fantastic potential. I groan as he fills me. He has to know what he’s doing to me and how much I like it.

Oz doesn’t waste time letting me acclimate. He pounds into me with vigor and determination. Like he wants to crawl inside me as far as he can, and I beckon him with my cries of pleasure.

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