Page 35 of Heart of the Wolf
She didn’t want to disappoint him; she didn’t know what to do.
Darkness swirled above her, Leif covering her body with his. Brielle licked her lips, whimpering at the touch of his hard length pressed against her.
“I’ve never,” she stuttered, gnawing on her lip.
“I will go slow,” he said, something twinkling in the knowing smirk he gave her. “You will be exhausted and content in my arms when we are finished.”
Brielle squeaked as Leif kissed down the column of her throat. His palms splayed over her ribs, holding her still as he trailed his mouth and tongue over her body, nipping and sucking bruises into the sensitive flesh. His warm mouth closed around a tight nipple, and her back arched off the bed.
The sensation was sublime, the feeling taking her out like a shore with the tide. A chuckle vibrated the stiffened peak as he flicked it before offering the same attention to the other one.
Suddenly, his mouth hovered at the crux of her thighs. Sitting up on her elbows, she met his hungry gaze. His face rested on her thigh, his palm stroking her belly. Heat ignited between her legs at the implication. He sucked a laugh in through his teeth, grinning with amusement.
“You are so wet.”
Shame heated her cheeks, and a worry line etched into the furrow of her brow. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, knowing she’d disappoint him somehow.
“No.”
His face disappeared, and he licked a long swipe through her.
A shocked gasp died on her lips as she chased the indescribable pleasure.
“It means you’re ready for me. It is good, Brielle. I want you wet for me.” He stroked a thumb over the spot his tongue had just traveled, making her squirm to his delight. “Lie down and relax,” he ordered in a low command.
Brielle rushed to obey.
He yanked his tunic off by the back of the collar. Pinpricks erupted across her flesh, her body tensing and fluttering as each moment drew out to the next.
Firelight danced across his pale scars, making him glow like a demon crawling out of the pits of Hell, coming to corrupt her. She welcomed it, spreading her arms wide, offering herself to him, her demon.
Demon or angel mattered not. For what was Satan but a fallen angel? He was her sin and her salvation.
Nails dug into the creamy expanse of her thighs. Leif held her open, his chest heaving. Her lower abdomen throbbed with a deep, insistent need to have him touch her.
Brielle wiggled as his mouth hovered above her, teasing her with hot breaths that made her buck.
“Impatient girl,” he teased, laughing at her tiny noise of frustration. “Wild girl,” he added, lowering his mouth to her sex.
Brielle sank her nails into his biceps, dragging them over his muscles as Leif lapped at her like she was a fresh spring. Nothing prepared her for how deliciously consumed she was by the feeling Leif’s tongue gave her.
Pleased noises fell from him as he licked and sucked. Her moans echoed off the wooden beams, mixing with his satisfied grunts. The burning in her belly turned into an inferno.
If this was Hell, it was the closest to Heaven she had ever been.
His tongue thoroughly worked her over before circling her clit, bringing her to the edge of damnation.
“Good girl,” he praised, teasing a finger at her opening. “Odin once said death by a maiden’s thighs was as honorable as by sword. If you send me to Valhalla, so be it.”
A high-pitched whine caught in her throat as she tried to speak. Leif cut the sound off, sinking one long finger into her, moaning appreciatively at how she clamped around him, sucking him in deeper. He kissed her bud, pushing down on her stomach with his free hand, and the most exquisite pleasure overtook her.
Stretched and full of him. She ached in the most intoxicating way. His tongue circled her as he pumped in and out of her in steady thrusts that made stars flicker in her gaze. Each stroke of his finger and flick of his tongue coiled her tighter and tighter until she teetered on a precipice, on the verge of disintegrating.
“You taste like honeyed fruit,” he said, suckling on her. His beard glistened with her arousal. “Like ambrosia. Will your sweet cunt grant me immortality?”
“Oh God,” she whined, the filthy word undoing her.
The furs from the bed caught on her nails as she scratched for purchase.
