Page 123 of Renard's Deliverance

Seriously.

She’d never met a man like this. One who seemed to enjoy playing with her, touching her . . . tasting her.

He returned his mouth to her pussy, torturing her this time with slow flicks of his tongue. How did he know just where to touch her?

Again, when she grew close, he drew away.

“You. Are. So. Mean.” She narrowed her gaze at him.

“Now, you’re not sounding very apologetic,” he warned. “I thought a girl that wanted to come might speak nicer.”

“You suck.”

He smiled that smile again.

And she swallowed heavily.

Then he upped the ante. The bastard.

Yep. He took his clothes off.

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It really wasn’t fair to show her all of that delicious goodness and not let her touch it. Taste it.

A whimper escaped her. “So. Mean. But I apologize. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“What is?” he asked as he set his shirt aside.

There had to be a God. And he’d made this man. He had a flat stomach, a light smattering of salt and pepper hair on his chest to match his beard. And his shoulders were wide, his biceps thick with muscle.

She wanted to run her tongue down his chest. Lower and lower and . . .

“I don’t know. Everything.”

“Poor girl. We’ve barely been at this for any length of time and already you’re apologizing for everything? You’ve got so much longer to go.”

Nooo.

Then he stood and down went his jeans and boxers.

Hallelujah.

“Well, hellooo, handsome,” she purred.

“Did you just call my dick handsome?” he asked.

“I did. You have a problem with that?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Hmm, seems I don’t.”

Damn right, he didn’t. She couldn’t believe how gorgeous he was. How long and thick his dick was.

“Please. Let me touch you.” She licked her lips.

“Hmm. Nope.”

Damn it!

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