Page 67 of Tabitha

I expect him to ravish me, but he’s slow and methodical as he explores my mouth, his kiss deep, as if stamping his claim on my soul. By the time he lifts his head, I’m floating, so dazed that I can do nothing but stare up at him.

Bast gazes down at me, licking his lips. “Delicious.”

The low, husky tone of his voice sends a shiver down my spine, which he notices. Hunger darkens his face, his hands land on my hips, and he drags me forward. My breath catches in my throat when his massive cock settles against my core, and a guttural groan escapes me at the contact.

My legs immediately wrap around his hips so he can’t get away, and my pussy rubs against his cock, sending sparks once more tingling along my veins. Bast grabs a fistful of my hair, wraps it around his hand, then slowly drags my head back until I’m arched back like an offering.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering just before mine until I moan, craving another taste of him. When I try to lean up and take it, his grip on my hair tightens to the point of pain, and I hiss out a breath.

He smirks, then leans down.

But instead of kissing me, he dips his head and sucks my nipple into his mouth, only a thin shirt separating us. The sensation is so strong that I’m helpless, my hips thrusting against him until I’m riding his cock. He switches breasts, continuing to nip and suck at me.

I reach up and grab his locs, so blitzed out that I moan. His big hands guide my hips, pulling me tighter against him, and I tip back my head as tingles spread through my limbs and the most amazing orgasm rolls through me.

He gentles his hold, easing me down slowly, his mouth turning soothing on my breasts. He skims his mouth up along my neck, sucking along the column, and I tilt my head to the side to give him better access, my body humming with tension but feeling languid at the same time.

By the time he reaches my mouth, he gives me another drugging kiss, leaving me boneless.

Bast releases me, then slowly straightens. He picks up the forgotten fork, dips it into the cake once more, and I watch almost passively as he lifts it in the air. I expect him to take a bite, but he brings it to my lips instead.

I open my mouth obediently, then moan in approval. I lick my lips, watching him curiously. “Is it me, or does chocolate actually taste better after an orgasm?”

Laughter rumbles from him, and he presses a brief kiss against my lips, then helps me sit up. I’m snuggled against his chest, and he nuzzles my temple. “Save a piece of cake, and maybe we can test out your theory later.”

I glance at the cake, measuring the size dubiously, estimating how much I would have to save and if it would be worth more orgasms if I’m forced to wait.

The struggle is real!

But orgasms.

“Deal,” I answer reluctantly, then nod with more conviction. “But you better be worth the wait.”

Bast nips my bottom lip, then pulls away with a smug grin. “Oh, I am.”

He reaches down and adjusts the cock crammed in his pants, and I lick my lips, suddenly curious about what it would taste like. And I instantly know what I want to do with the last piece of my chocolate cake. Yum!

He’ll taste divine.

It’s also probably the only worthy reason to sacrifice a piece of my cake.

As he strides away, I become aware of the rest of the guys watching avidly from the stairs.

“I think I now understand why women are so obsessed with chocolate,” River mutters, adjusting his own cock.

Pierce snorts and Gage rolls his eyes, but the three of them are now eying my chocolate cake speculatively. I snatch it up and clutch it to my chest, shoveling a too big bite into my mouth. “Mminne.”

“Why don’t you and River go for your run?” Gage continues down the rest of the stairs. “By the time you get back, I’ll have breakfast ready.”

I hesitate, looking down at my nearly untouched cake a little suspiciously.

“We won’t touch your cake,” Pierce says, walking into the kitchen to start coffee and tea. When I don’t move, he raises an eyebrow. “I promise, no one will touch your cake. I’ll guard it with my life.”

With a resigned sigh, I shove one last bite into my mouth, not caring that my cheeks bulge like a chubby little chipmunk, then jump off the counter. “I’ll go change.”

I take a step away from the cake, hesitate, then glare at the men, my eyes promising death if they touch my precious. With one last sigh, my shoulders slump in defeat, and I hurry up the stairs to change.

By the time I race back to the kitchen, the cake is gone. Panic and rage churn like a toxic mess in my veins. Before I can vent my wrath, Pierce steps in front of me and cups my face. “I’m keeping it safe. No one would dare touch it. I promise.”

---