Page 137 of Under an Endless Moon

I drew him in as far as I could, gagging a little because on all things holy, the man was huge, and I literally had no idea what I was doing except for the fact that I wanted to please him the same way as he’d pleased me.

I barely got half of him into my mouth before he hit the back of my throat, and I rumbled a garbled semblance of his name around it.

“Good girl,” he choked. “Such a fucking good girl with my cock stuffed down your throat. Like you were meant to do it.”

I hummed around him, and his fist tightened in my hair. Hetipped my face up toward him, those sea-ravaged eyes burning into mine.

“You have any idea what it’s like to have you like this? On your knees with that sweet, dirty mouth wrapped around my cock?”

I couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but stare up at him as he slowly began to withdraw before he pushed back in with a slow, measured thrust.

Energy crackled. The connection that had always shimmered between us coming alive. A frisson in the dense, dense air.

He grunted when he hit the back of my throat. “So fuckin’ good. Just like that. Take it like you mean it.”

He did it again, a little harder that time. “My sweet moonflower. You want me to dirty you? Wreck you? Ruin you?”

His tone volleyed between regret and possession.

I nodded in frantic, short jerks, need blistering through me, my skin seared with the flames that consumed.

I wanted it.

I wanted him to wreck me. To wreck me in the very best way.

I squeezed him tighter with my hands, and I was the one to pull back that time, staring up at him as I swirled my tongue around the tip before I plunged back down.

A vicious sound rippled from his chest, and I almost grinned, the way I felt powerful and beautiful right then, driving him toward the chaos I could see whirling through his eyes.

“This mouth. This dangerous fuckin’ mouth and this sweet fuckin’ soul. What am I supposed to do with you?”

I guessed he knew, though, because he started to rock, picking up the rhythm he wanted. A rhythm I matched, using my hands to stroke him as I sucked him deeper with each thrust.

“So good, baby.” He grunted each word as he started to fuck my mouth in long, desperate strokes.

His hips snapped as he jutted forward, and the hard, packed muscles of his stomach flexed as he worked us into a disorder.

It felt like a claiming.

That’s exactly what I wanted it to be.

A claiming.

I wanted him to take me. Own me.

My gaze locked on the moonflower tattoo that bloomed on his left hip. Was it me? Did he feel the same? Or was it a symbol that only promised he would forever look out for me? Protect me like a little sister?

I thought I had my answer the instant I looked up at him. When I saw the searing intensity that blazed from his gaze and erupted from his soul.

I knew it. I knew it.

I just didn’t know if he would ever admit it.

I curled one hand tighter around him as I let the other wander up to the tattoo, and I brushed my fingers over the statement, hoping he could feel the statement of my own.

I love you. I love you.

I always had.

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