Page 133 of Under an Endless Moon

For now.

For this moment.

Those fingers were tugging at my hair, pointed nails raking at my scalp and drawing me closer as she lifted her butt from the table.

I swept my tongue back through her slit and up to her clit, then I shoved two fingers deep into her pussy.

Fingers ripped at my hair, and she widened her legs, a plea falling from her mouth, “More.”

Fuck me.

Only Raven.

Begging for what only I could give her.

I added a third finger, pumping her hard and deep as I flattened my tongue against that throbbing nerve, swirling and licking in time.

She writhed and jerked and clawed at my neck as I drove her toward the pleasure that was waiting.

Felt it when she snapped.

When she rended apart, her walls spasming and clenching as the orgasm tore through her body.

An explosion that had her shouting.

And the one thing she was shouting was my name.

THIRTY-SIX

RAVEN

Bliss.Bliss. Bliss.

It sped through me on a shockwave. Wave after wave of this unfound pleasure that careened through my body. Sparks and fire and flames. So good and perfect I thought I would black out.

Float off into space and disappear forever.

Except my fingers were locked in Otto’s hair and his fingers were still burrowed deep inside me, though he’d slowed, and he barely pumped them in and out as he lessened the intensity of his tongue.

The man was wrenching every last drop of pleasure out of me.

Every molecule in my body shook with the disbelief that this had happened. That he’d touched me again.

Likethis.

It was something I’d really wanted to experience. The number of times I’d imagined what it would be like with Otto’s head between my thighs as he ate me into oblivion.

And oblivion it was.

I was gasping when he withdrew, my heart a mangle of love and relief and desperation when he edged back a couple inches so hecould peer up at me.

My arousal was smeared all over his face, worry in his eyes and half a smirk on his mouth.

In that moment, he had to be the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

Every bulging muscle in his arms and chest flexed in need and restraint, skin slicked in a sheen of sweat, tats dancing and pulsing over his taut, golden flesh.

“Good?” he asked.

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