Page 22 of Purring for Her Lion
He chuckles, dark and pleased. “Good to know.” His hands settle on my waist, big enough to span it easily. “Now spread your legs for me.”
The command shoots heat through my core. I’m independent, stubborn, no one’s to boss around, but his voice, his authority, undoes me.
I part my legs, sheet slipping away. Cool air kisses my skin, or maybe it’s the way his gaze devours me, hungry and intense.
“Beautiful,” he says, and it sounds like worship.
He moves down, hands guiding my thighs wider. I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but all I feel is anticipation.
“Please,” I whisper, not sure what I’m begging for.
He lowers his head and licks a slow stripe up my center.
My toes curl. My back arches. His tongue is nothing like I’ve ever felt before, rough and broad and devastating. He circles my clit with the tip, then flattens his tongue against it, dragging delicious friction over every nerve.
“Oh god,” I gasp, hands flying to his head, fingers tangling in his mane.
He growls against me, the vibration making me shudder. Then he’s feasting, mouth hot and greedy, tongue plunging into me, then back to my clit, relentless and perfect.
And then, gods, he slides a finger inside me, thick and callused, stretching me open. I moan, loud and unguarded, as he adds another finger, curling them to hit that spot that makes my vision spark.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my thigh. “Let me hear you.”
His fingers work inside me, his tongue on my clit, and I’m babbling, please and yes and don’t stop and his name, over and over.
“You need to come for me,” he commands, and my body obeys. “Come now, so you can take me well.”
He scrapes his teeth, just barely, against my clit, and I shatter. The orgasm rips through me, wild and overwhelming, making me cry out, my body clenching around his fingers, pleasure burning through every nerve.
Before I’ve even finished, he’s moving up my body, settling between my shaking thighs. I feel his cock, hot and hard, pressing at my entrance.
“Look at me,” he orders, and I do, meeting his golden eyes.
He pushes in, just the tip, and I gasp at the stretch. It’s been too long, and he’s huge, so big I wonder for a second if it will even work.
“Breathe,” he says, gentling his voice even as his body tenses. “Relax for me.”
I inhale, force myself to melt. He pushes in deeper, inch by inch, slow and patient until he’s fully seated inside me, filling me completely. He waits, letting me adjust, never looking away.
“Okay?” he asks, soft.
I nod, speechless. I’m so full, and every ridge and bump on his cock presses inside me, perfect and overwhelming.
He starts to move, slow and deep, and I cling to him, nails digging into his fur. Every thrust sends pleasure sparking through me.
“Again,” he growls, as I climb toward release. “Come for me again.”
And I do, my body obeying, pulsing around him as another orgasm crashes through me. He doesn’t stop. Instead, he hooks my leg over his arm, driving even deeper.
“Again,” he demands, pace building, thrusts harder and deeper.
It should be impossible, but my body doesn’t care. I’m climbing again, pleasure building unbearably.
This time, when I come, I scream his name, body convulsing. He growls, primal and wild.
“One more time,” he urges, rhythm faltering, close to the edge. “Come with me, Liana.”
I shake my head, not sure I can survive another. “I can’t—it’s too much?—”
