Beyond the Dark by Angela Knight Emma Holly Lora Leigh Diane Whiteside

Author:Angela Knight, Emma Holly, Lora Leigh, Diane Whiteside
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Barkley Sensation
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER TEN

Matthias licked at delicate, creamy flesh, humming his pleasure in a long, low rumble. She tasted better than honey, better than sweet cream. The luscious juices spilling from her pussy were tinged with spice and spiked with pure sweet fire.

His hands kneaded her ass. Sweet delicate curves that clenched beneath his fingers as she lifted to him without reservation. And he accepted. He ate her with a greed he didn't believe was possible, terrified he couldn't get enough of the sweet, addictive juices spilling to his lips and tongue.

Stretching out along the bed between her thighs, he lifted her closer, staring up at her absorbed expression as slowly, so slowly he pushed his tongue into the gripping, spasming channel he had dreamed of.

Her pussy was like silk. It flexed around his tongue as she cried out again, her hands clenching in his hair, pulling him closer.

Matthias could feel the hormone spilling from his tongue into the sweet depths of her cunt. The potency of the taste was diluted by the sweet juices he sipped from her. He rimmed the opening, lapped at it like the favored treat it would now become. He could eat her for hours and never get enough. Lick her forever and die with the hunger beating at his soul.

"Oh yes," her trembling voice speared through his senses. "Oh, Matthias, it's so good." She stretched beneath him, arching closer, as her hips worked her pussy onto his tongue.

His cock throbbed, the pre-cum spurting from it to the blankets beneath him. He wasn't ready to fuck her yet, he thought desperately. Not yet. He had waited his entire life for this moment. For that one perfect moment, when touch, taste, moans, and whispered passions came into sync.

Everything melded together with Grace. Her taste was perfect. There was no scent of promiscuity, no taste of another who had gone before him. The Breed sense of smell and taste was often too good. But with Grace, there was only the sweet, heated taste of her woman's passion.

Slick, silken, her juices clung to his lips, to his tongue, as he slowly drew back from her.

Swollen glistening folds of flesh drew his gaze. Silken damp curls, ruby red, passion flushed, her pussy lured him. He licked again, hearing her cry, then drew back to gaze at the slickness again.

Had any woman ever been so wet for him? He knew there hadn't been. Only Grace. Farther up, her clit was swollen, fully exposed and flushed with need. He reach out with his tongue, curling around it and groaning at the taste of it.

Grace jerked, and more of her juices spilled from her.

He needed more. A rumbled growl fell from his lips, as his tongue pierced her core again, and he allowed the tip of his nose to caress the hard nub of her clit.

"Oh, God, Matthias." She never called him Matt. He liked that. He wasn't a Matt. He was Matthias. It was the name he had chose for himself, the name he preferred, and she never used anything else.

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