Page 8 of Running with Direwolves
His kisses spread lower, traveling over her abdomen and dipping into her navel. His hands were everywhere, stroking her hips, her waist, her inner thighs, and when he dipped his head to her pussy, she spread her legs, hoping he was going to give her oral.
“This one is going to take a while,” he said, looking up at her with hooded eyes. “No rush, enjoy the journey.”
Her pussy quivered with anticipation.
“I know I’m going to enjoy it,” he said huskily, “every fucking second.”
He stroked his tongue through the soft damp folds of her pussy. She moaned and closed her eyes, fisted the duvet cover. It had been so long she couldn’t even remember when she’d last been adored like this.
Tarl got to work, steady strokes of his tongue over her clit while gently probing her entrance with his fingers. Not enough to tip her over the edge but enough to have her writhing for more.
“Oh … please…” she moaned after ten minutes. “I want to…”
“I’ll decide that.” He grinned up at her. “But it won’t be long now, I can taste your desperation.”
“Please … I…” Her thighs were trembling with longing and her belly tight with need.
He closed his eyes and worked her clit again applying a little more pressure but still not enough. He began to finger-fuck her deeper, stroking over her G-spot each time he rode in.
“Oh God.” She arched her back and bunched her fingers in his hair. “That’s it … please … just…”
He kept her balanced there. Maddeningly close to release but unable to tip over the edge. She squirmed and bucked and tugged at her nipples. “Tarl! Oh, you’re driving me insane.”
Suddenly he gripped her ass cheek with his free hand and sucked her clit as he flicked it with his tongue, a fast urgent rhythm that took her straight to the precipice of orgasm. She cried out, pulled her knees up to hug his shoulders, and ground against his face.
His fingers mimicked a thick cock fucking her and she let the dense sensation flood her pussy and came hard and long. He stayed with her, his mouth on her clit and his nose buried in herpubic hair.
On and on the spasms wrecked her, shaking her body and stealing her breath. His fingers moved through her wetness. She was so wet, much more than usual. “Oh God…” she moaned, the density of the pleasure was insane.
“Fuck,” he said, looking up at her, his mouth and chin shiny. “You really are a squirter.”
“What!” She pushed to her elbows, her breasts hitching up and down with her rapid breaths. Her pussy was still convulsing around his fingers.
“You’re a squirter,” he said again. “And it’s fucking hot.”
“I … I am not.”
“Oh, you are.” He withdrew from her pussy and swiped the palm of his hand over her soft folds. “You’re soaking and it came out in a gush as you orgasmed.”
“Oh my God,” she moaned, her cheeks reddening. “I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why … or what?”
“Hey.” He came up over her and set his lips on hers. “I’m not complaining, hell, I love it. Proves I hit the spot.”
“But I’ve never … before.” She stared into his eyes, trying to see if he was telling the truth about her copious wetness turning him on.
He gave a truly self-satisfied grin. “That’s ‘cause you’ve never had me lick your pussy, babe. That’s why you’ve never squirted before.”
“You are good with your tongue.”
“I know.” He sat back, straddling her, and took hold of his cock. “Now it’s my turn. Like this.” With his free hand he pressed her right breast upward and inward.
She knew what he wanted, he wanted her to hold herself so he could come on her chest. A rush of excitement went through her at the thought of watching him masturbate right there before her eyes.
Chapter Three
Tarl was on a mission. Sienna could see that. He was working his cock with industrious movements, not speedy and not slow, clearly just the pace and tension he enjoyed the most.
His belly was taught and his breaths were coming fast and shallow. His eyes flashed as he stared at her breasts, practically unblinking as he watching her tweak her nipples and arch her back.
