Page 88 of A Hunger Soft and Wild

Her clit gets harder under my tongue, and I groan, burying my face deeper, tasting her like I’m starving. My fingers slide between her legs, finding her dripping entrance.

She’s soaked.

“Please, Roan,” she begs, hips rising to meet my touch. She’sdesperate.

And I give her what she wants.

I sink two fingers into her slowly, deeply, curling them just right. Her walls tighten around me, warm and pulsing, and I growl against her cunt, licking her clit with renewed hunger. My tongue and fingers move together—driving her higher, chasing every moan that falls from her lips.

She bucks against my mouth, a wild, beautiful thing, and I hold her open, driving her to the edge.

When I suck her clit hard between my lips, her back arches off the bed and a guttural cry rips from her throat. Her cunt clenches around my fingers, and her whole body shudders.

She’s gorgeous like this—ruined and panting, her pleasure painted across her face.

Slowly, I slip my fingers free, bringing them to my mouth. I suck them clean with a soft groan, savoring her taste.

“Roan, come ‘ere,” she breathes, tugging at my shoulder.

Gods, yes.

I crawl up her body and kiss her like I’m starving for it. Desperate and deep, mouths open, tongues tangled. I know she can taste herself on my tongue—and Iwanther to. I want her to know how delicious she is.

I kiss her deeply, exploring her mouth as she opens it to me.

As we kiss, her hand slips between my legs, palm pressing against my aching core. I groan into her mouth, hips rolling into her touch.

My pants are damp, and her fingers boldly stroking me there are only serving to dampen them further.

“Fuck, Aria,” I pant against her lips, then kiss down—her neck, her collarbone, anywhere I can reach. My hips move on instinct, chasing the pressure of her fingers.

Her fingers hook into the waistband of my breeches, tugging urgently. I lift my hips to help her slide them down, and we toss them aside.

She slips her hand under the damp fabric of my underwear, and when her fingers brush my clit, I nearly cry out.

“Fuck, yes,” I whisper hoarsely. I tilt my hips into her hand, needing more,needing her.

She teases my clit—then suddenly, pain. Sharp, exquisite pain.

Her fangs sink into my neck.

My whole body tenses, a shock of agony and ecstasy crashing through me. Her fingers keep moving against my clit as she feeds, and I cling to her, gasping as pleasure builds hard and fast beneath my skin.

I let her feed, tilting my neck, moaning as her fingers stroke me through it and I buck against her hand.

Her teeth pull away from my neck too soon, leaving a trail of blood trickling slowly from the wound. She laps at it as she flicks my clit.

“Gods, you taste like—”

I cut her off with a kiss, crushing my mouth to hers. I taste blood—myblood—on her tongue, and it only makes me hungrier. I suck on her tongue, then slide mine deep into her wet mouth.

Her moan echoes in my mouth, and I’m close—so close.

When I come, it’s all heat and light and need, my body shuddering against hers, hips grinding into her hand.

I collapse against her, breathing hard, chest rising and falling in sync with hers. After a moment, I shift, rolling to the side.

Her skin is soft against mine. And when I finally catch my breath, I glance over—and smile.

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