Page 74 of Don't Let Go

Nowhere else I’d rather be.

I nodded slowly. “Ready.”

Thought became action and he devastated me with a carnal kiss as he buried his face between my thighs. The beard was pure softness, tickling my skin. His tongue was all demand, ashe lapped at me. The stroke from entrance to clit left my mind a buzz of competing emotions.

I fisted the blankets, trying to hold onto my sanity as he traced his teeth ever so lightly along the labia, then against my clit itself. It was like he pushed me for more and nothing kept me still.

The pressure was exquisite torment. A sob tore out of my throat. Then another cry. It was a battle to not pull away or grind against his face. He was ruthless in his hedonistic assault.

The tension pulled tighter and tighter. His hand clamped down on my hip, holding me in place as he sucked, nipped, and licked at me. I was twisting against the blankets when the first orgasm crashed into me.

I shuddered and sobbed through it. Part of me pleaded for him to stop and the rest of me wanted more. The pressure was unrelenting and then it spiraled me into another series of cries.

Riding those waves, I crashed to earth when he pulled back. In my blurred vision, his damp beard gleamed briefly before he reached behind him to drag off his shirt. Then his jeans were gone.

The heavy, red-veined cock thumped against his belly. It curved almost like a scimitar, the thick tip practically purple as it strained. I never thought of a dick as having personality, but the thickness and length were so perfectly him.

When I would have pushed myself upward, still shaking, McQuade shook his head. “No, Sugar Bear,” he said in that low, rough growl of his. “You touch me, and I’m going to blow like some pimply faced teen confronted with his first pair of boobs.”

That—image—stopped me cold and I was caught between wild laughter and the shuddering quakes still rocketing through my system. “Okay…” The word came out far more shaky than I liked.

He chuckled, low and decadent. “Just answer a couple of questions.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Can I flip you onto your stomach?”

Could he… well… “Yes?” It came out a question, but more because I wasn’t sure why he was asking that. His grin was all teeth and feral. It had my cunt clenching in anticipation.

He didn’t ask his second question before he gripped my hips in his big, callused hands and then flipped me onto my stomach. I got my hands under me as he dragged my hips back and then I got the answer to the question I hadn’t really asked.

Excitement and impatience swirled through me as he teased his cock against my soaked cunt. A glide through my labia until the head bumped along my clit and then back again.

“Fuck, your ass is incredible.” He palmed one cheek and gave it a hard squeeze. “I like having something to grip, Sugar Bear.”

The words were utterly undoing all semblance of control I’d managed to regain after the cascade of orgasms.

“You had a second question?” Fuck, when did words get so damn hard.

“Yes,” he said, then he bit my shoulder. It didn’t sting so much as feel like a possession as he settled his teeth into the muscle. I closed my eyes. Like the knife earlier, and the way he’d rubbed his beard against me, he was marking me.

Would he carve something into my skin if I asked him to?

That image was heady as hell and came from the dark cavern inside of me where my memories seemed to hide. Did I want him to mark me more? Carve himself into my skin?

Even as I shied from that answer, I could hear myself sobbing and pleading earlier as he took me apart with pleasure.

Yes, I did want him. I wanted everything he would give me.

A hand landed against my ass, the slap hot and stinging. It forced a startled yelp out of me as tears sprang to my eyes, notfrom pain so much as surprise. He massaged the heat out and then he nipped my earlobe. His whole body curved over mine, a shelter and a shield. His cock throbbed between my legs and I was rocking against him, a slow, beckoning motion.

“You with me again, Sugar Bear?”

“Yes.” Not a question this time. “Did I miss a question?”

His low, delighted chuckle would live in my head forever. “You did, but I’ll ask it again.”

I licked my lips, tilting my head back so I could see him from the corner of my eye. Heat radiated off of him, and I was burning up with a fever thanks to the way he traced his hands over me.

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