Firecracker (Last Call, Book Six) by Moira Rogers

Firecracker (Last Call, Book Six) by Moira Rogers

Author:Moira Rogers
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: hellhound
Published: 2013-06-21T21:23:30.547491+00:00


She hadn’t performed oral sex in a very long time, but some things never changed.

The power in it, for one, so paradoxical when Jarrett was the one gripping her head and forcing his cock past her lips. He was large, thick and long and undeniably masculine. She choked a little before she remembered how to fight her reflex, how to tilt her head and let saliva ease his path.

His first smooth thrust into her throat brought back the memory of the werewolf who’d taught her how to take a man deep, a rough, cocky bootlegger who’d paid for a charm to bind the fire beneath her skin.

It had even worked...for a while.

She wouldn’t think about their tragic end—not now. Right now she’d concentrate on Jarrett, on his dangerous eyes and the heat in him that matched her own.

He pulled back and thrust deep again, this time holding her head firmly for several long seconds. Then he released her with a groan. “You like that, don’t you?”

She liked how much he liked it, how his eyes got wild around the edges. Even more perversely, she liked the roughness of it. “I love it.”

“What else do you love?” But he thrust back into her mouth before she could answer, his skin hot to the point of sizzling on her tongue.

Feeling alive. Consumed. She fought to swallow him, and it wasn’t enough. Not until he lost control. The next time he pulled back, she smiled up at him. “I love fire.”

Jarrett grinned and pulled her up by her shoulders. “I should have guessed.” He caught her mouth in a quick, blistering kiss, then spun and bent her over the bed.

Of course there was a mirror. Why wouldn’t there be? The room was designed for seduction and sin—and she looked seduced and sinful. Tangled hair framed her face, and Phoebe barely recognized herself in the debauched stranger trembling on her knees. Naked and flushed, her lips swollen, eyes glazed, she looked like a wild creature, not the subdued professional she’d become in recent years.

Behind her, Jarrett stood in deep shadow, his muscles flexing in sharp relief under the slanting light from the lamps. When he met her gaze in the mirror, his eyes flashed red. “Lovely,” he murmured, and gripped her hips.

She tensed against his first thrust, her anticipation heightening with each breath as he loomed behind her with fiery eyes. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Ride you until I come.” He leaned over her back and whispered his next words into her ear. “I want you to watch.”

It was odd that she could shiver with his skin blazing like a furnace at her back. “Hard. I may not have a werewolf’s healing, but it’s more difficult to hurt me to begin with.”

“I’m not worried.” The head of his cock rubbed against her.

Tearing her gaze from his wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. She’d never seen anything as shamelessly erotic as their bodies poised on the edge of joining, the thick crown of his erection parting the inner lips of her cunt.



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