Page 97 of Saddle and Scent
Because I amnoton this planet anymore.
My back’s arched, shirt wrinkled and half-rolled under my breasts, ass barely on the edge of the kitchen chair, legs draped over his broad shoulders like I’m the day’s damn special and he’s starving. I’ve lost count of how long he’s been down there. Minutes? Hours? Eternity?
All I know is my knees keep trying to close, but Wes doesn’t let me. His palms are warm against my inner thighs, spreading me open as wide as he wants, thumbs occasionally dipping lower to press just below my entrance, like heknowsexactly how to wreck me.
Spoiler: he does.
He drags his tongue up the center of my soaked pussy, a slow, firm stroke that makes my head fall back with a cry.
“Jesus—Wes?—”
He chuckles against me, the sound rumbling right through my clit, and my whole body jolts. My hands scramble for the table behind me, something tohold, but nothing feels solid. Not even me.
“Don’t go invoking the Lord when your Omega’s got her own god on his knees,” he mutters, voice thick, sinful. “Fuck, baby—you taste like warm peaches and heaven.”
I let out a strangled laugh that breaks halfway into a moan. “That—was the maple syrup. And maybe heat. And maybe—holy hell—Wes,more, don’t stop?—”
He doesn’t.
His tongue dips inside me, slow and possessive, like he wants to memorize the shape of me from the inside out. Each stroke is devastating.Intentional. My thighs quake, my heels digging into his shoulder blades like I can climb him with desperation alone.
He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against me again, and suddenly, I’mpurring.
The sound slips out unbidden—this low, sultry rumble that vibrates from my chest and hums through the air—and the second I hear it, I freeze.
My eyes snap open. “Did I just?—?”
Wes pulls back just enough to grin up at me, chin gleaming with slick, hair ruffled from where I’ve no doubt been yanking on it.
“Oh, youdid, sweetheart.” He looks so damn proud of himself I could scream. “You just purred. Like a spoiled little Omega who knows she’s about to be fucked stupid.”
I slap a hand over my mouth. “I’ve never—I didn’t even know I could?—”
His tongue flicks against my clit with devilish precision.
“You can,” he says, smug as hell. “You just needed the right encouragement.”
His mouth is back on me before I can protest, and this time, it’ssavage. Messy, consuming, utterly without mercy. He eats me like he’s got nothing else to do for the rest of the day—and maybe he doesn’t, because it’s not even noon and I’m already dripping down his chin, legs shaking, cunt clenching around nothing.
And that tongue—fuck, that tongue.
It alternates between stroking deep inside me and curling upward to tease my clit, working in maddening rhythms that never last long enough to predict. I swear heknowsthe exact second I get close—because he’ll switch it up, back off, make me whimper.
“You like that, baby?” he murmurs into me, voice muffled by slick and skin. “Like when I taste you like this?”
I nod frantically, words gone.
“Say it,” he commands, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh, then a bite that makes me twitch. “Tell me you like my mouth on your pussy.”
“I—fuck—Iloveit,” I pant. “Please don’t stop. Please, Wes. I’m—I’m so close.”
He hums again, mouth already back on me, and that vibration sends another purr crawling up my throat. This one, I don’t fight. Imoanwith it, hips bucking, thighs squeezing around his head like I want to trap him there forever.
He rewards me with his fingers.
Two thick fingers slide into me like nothing, the stretch immediate andperfect, and my vision goes white around the edges.
“Oh god,” I gasp, hands flying to my tits, squeezing hard. Ineedpressure. Need something to ground me.
