Page 116 of The Mating Game
“Tess,” he groans.
I let my hand wander until I can palm him through the now-straining zipper, feelingexactlywhat my teasing is doing to him. I know my scent is still thicker than normal; I know that because hetoldme in a sort of a groan only an hour ago while we were eating lunch. “Because it kind of seems like you don’t want me to stop.”
His lips brush along my cheek, his mouth parted and slack—his breath catching when I pop open the button at his fly. His head lowers to watch as I drag his zipper down slowly, his cock already pressing insistently against the cotton of his boxer briefs as if hereallydoesn’t want me to stop.
“Tess,” he says again, his voice sort of choked this time. “You must be tired. You don’t have to—”
I don’t hear the rest of his protest, and honestly, I’d be willing to bet he forgets what he was going to say altogether when I tug down the elastic of his underwear to free him. Despite his imperviousnessto the chill in the room that comes from lack of power, I can say definitively that I have no such resistance to it. Maybe it’s something that will come the more I settle into my new omega designation. I know my hands have to be cold when they circle him. Maybe that’s why he hisses through his teeth as my fingers curl around the hot, hard length of him—or maybe it’s simply that I’m touching him. I like that thought better.
I’m not going to pretend I’ve ever particularly enjoyed oral. I mean, I was getting nothing from it in the past except a sore jaw well before I was acquainted with the enormity that is Hunter Barrett—but something about the way his breath seems to come unsteadily now, the way his fingers find their way to fist gently in my hair in an almost unconscious way…I find myself enjoying the effects of what I’m doing to himverymuch.
I know before I even start that actually fitting all of him in my mouth is going to be impossible, but I’m going for sexy here. Even in my limited experience with this, I doubt gagging will be a particularly attractive move. Last time was so rushed, so frantic—I didn’t have time to properly enjoy everything I was doing to him. Now I let my fist slide down the velvety firmness of his cock, leaning in to press the flat of my tongue just under the head before I close my lips around it to suck.
“Fuck,” he grunts.
If I turn up my eyes, I can see the way he’s watching me; there’s something wild in his expression that only spurs me on. I hold his gaze when I take as much as I’m able to, letting him push deeper into my mouth, keeping a tight pressure with my lips so that I can feel every inch of him as he moves over my tongue.
I doubt I can even gethalfof him in my mouth, I think distantly.
His hips jerk when I suck softly, making a wet sound that feelsa little obscene. I tease the end with the tip of my tongue before swirling it all around the thick head, and the groan that tumbles out of his mouth when I dip it into the slit seems almost pained. His taste makes me dizzy, stirring up the ghost of that same need I felt when I was fully in my heat, making this just as enjoyable for me as it is for him, I think.
“Tess.Tess.”
I push my lips down the length of him slowly, looking up at him as innocently as I can manage while my mouth is so full. “Hmm?”
“I’m going to come,” he warns me, sounding completely regretful. “I’m going to come in your mouth if you keep doing that.”
I pull off him with another exaggerated sound, only because it seems to really rile him up. “You can,” I tell him. “If you want to.”
I’m lifted off the bench so fast I don’t even know what’s happening at first. Suddenly his hands are under my arms and he’s tugging me upward to bring me right off my seat, plopping me down on the table as his mouth slants across mine roughly. His tongue slips inside to pet at mine as his hand tugs my hair a little less gently to angle me into the kiss, and all I can do is wind my arms around his neck to hold on.
“That’s not where I want to come,” he breathes against my mouth between kisses.
I’m surprised I can even make words, my voice sounding hardly like my own with the way it rasps out of me. “What’s the alternative, Mr.Barrett?”
“Hmm.” He gives me another slow kiss that has me leaning into it. “Aren’t you cold?”
I don’t tell him that my sweater and my fleece-lined leggings feel a little sweltering now, shaking my head instead. “Getting warmer by the second.”
“Really?” For a moment, I’m actually put out by the way his fingers untangle themselves from my hair—until he reaches for the waistband of my leggings. “Then lift up.”
I drop my hands to brace myself against the tabletop, lifting my hips to let him start peeling my leggings along my thighs and down my legs, with my underwear in tow. They slide over my wool socks to flutter to the floor and leave me in nothing else from the waist down, and I briefly wonder if I look ridiculous, half-naked in socks on a dining room table.
Not that Hunter seems to mind. He shoves the bench seat under the table with one swift movement of his foot, and then he’s kissing me again, stepping between my legs and stealing my breath with both his tongue and the sudden sensation of his very warm, veryhardlength slotting at my core. He tilts his hips to let himself slide through my wet folds as if to coat himself in them, bumping my clit so that I shiver against him.
“You are”—he looks down to watch as he gives another slow, deliberate slide—“very hot here, at least.”
I shift a little, struggling to hold on to coherent thought. “How sturdy is this table?”
“I don’t know,” Hunter tells me, his lips finding mine to curl lazily as he draws back to nudge at my entrance. “Guess we’ll find out.”
“Oh.”
I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve done this over the last few days, but even still, it takes me by surprise just howmuchof him there is. The way I’m sitting makes it easy for him to glidedeepinside—my body welcoming him as he fills me up wholly. It’s not as all-consuming as it was when I was fully in heat, but even still, the feel of him has my skin prickling with warmth and my insidestwisting with want. Heat or no, I think that’s just the effect he seems to have on me.
My nails dig into his shoulders when his hips meet mine, a rush of air escaping me, which he quickly swallows down as his mouth finds mine again.
“Fucking perfect,” he mutters against my mouth. “How are you so perfect?”
