Page 9 of Kiss of Frost

My breath seized, my moan emerging as a choking sound. “It’s not yours.”

“Aye, it is.” He went flat on his stomach and kissed the top of my mound. Golden stubble tickled my skin. He lifted his head and gave me a roguish grin. “Dinnae worry, lassie, I’ll take verra good care of it.” He lowered his head and fastened his lips around my clit.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, my head falling back as pleasure pummeled me. Hot, buttery warmth rolled from my clit to my nipples, which tingled with every draw of his mouth. He suckled and teased, alternating between hard sucks and quick flicks of his tongue. He French-kissed my pussy, making out with my clit and my opening. He slid his tongue south, grazing the most secret, intimate part of me before ascending and nipping at my folds. I fisted the sheets and pulled my knees back as he buried his face so deep between my legs I had to wonder how he could breathe. Then I stopped caring as he plunged his tongue inside me, fucking me with it in deep, languid strokes.

My mouth hung open, panting breaths spilling from me as I drank in the sight of him between my thighs. His shoulders were insane. That playful lick of hair had fallen over his forehead again, making him look like a pirate. A sexy, Scottish pirate.

“Play with your tits,” he murmured between his wicked kisses.

I dragged in enough oxygen to gasp, “What?”

Green eyes met mine, humor and heat dancing in the emerald depths. “You heard me.” His pink tongue lashed out, flicking over my clit.

“Shit!” I released my death grip on the sheets and palmed my breasts as he looked on, withholding his tongue like he wanted to make sure I obeyed before he gave it to me again. But he would. Because I wanted it, and he knew it. He’d spoken my fantasies aloud as if he read them from a book. As unsettling as it was, it was also strangely freeing. If I couldn’t hide my desires from him, I might as well enjoy myself.

I pinched my nipples, rolling the taut peaks between my fingertips.

“Aye,” he growled, planting another soft kiss on my clit. “That’s a good lass.” He slid his thumbs up either side of my pussy, gliding easily over my wet, swollen lips. He lifted his head, and something hot and possessive moved through his eyes. “You may have taken others into your bed before, lass. But you’ll never take another, save for our mate.” Thumbs on either side of my pussy, he spread me lewdly. “You won’t want to, witchling, because I’m going to train this pussy to purr at my command.” He lowered his head and resumed his feast.

As fresh pleasure assailed me, I was lost. I tried to muster up some kind of clever retort to counter his masculine arrogance. But I couldn’t speak with his tongue making firm circuits around the exact place I needed him to be. Just as my orgasm approached again, he switched to slow, languorous licks that landed everywhere but my clit.

“No,” I groaned, stretching the word out as I thrust my pussy shamelessly at his face.

He carried on with his torment, sucking down my folds before blowing gently on my poor, neglected clit. “I’m going to be so good at this, Georgie,” he said, his hot breath coasting over my drenched, quivering opening. “So good that you’ll be a slave to my tongue.”

Gods, I was halfway there already—especially with him edging me so cruelly. When he paused his ministrations to press a damp kiss on each of my inner thighs, I sobbed, desperate for release. I plucked at my nipples as my inner muscles clamped repeatedly. I wanted him inside me. Even as I thought it—and felt the unmistakable tingling of an oncoming orgasm—I knew he wouldn’t let me come yet. I bucked helplessly, chasing the speed and friction he denied me.

He slid his hands under my ass, spreading me wider and raising my pussy to his mouth. He kissed and licked and nibbled, and I sank my fingers into his hair and threw my head back. Every tease of his tongue and every brush of his stubble drove my need to a fever pitch. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” I babbled, my body trembling. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” I was close…so close.

He stopped, snatching my orgasm right out from under me.

“No!” I levered myself onto my elbows as he rose to his knees and stroked his cock. “Finish me off, you Scottish douchebag!”

“Douchebag?” He continued working his dick, which was ramrod straight and leaking precome. The muscles in his forearm flexed, and it was sexy and infuriating. “That’s not very nice, Georgie.”

“You deserve it.”

He smiled, his mouth and chin shiny with my arousal. He shoved his free hand through his hair, smoothing the unruly waves. Then he dragged it over the lower half of his face and licked the moisture from his palm.

A whimper escaped me.

“You said we shouldn’t,” he pointed out, his tone light and reasonable.

The nerve. I narrowed my eyes. “You said you know what I want.”

“Aye.”

“Apparently not, because I want you to finish what you started.” In case there was any doubt, I spread my legs wider and pointed to my clit. “Now.”

In response, he swiped moisture from my pussy and spread it over his cock, his big hand working my juices up and down his shaft. It was so filthy and so fucking hot, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“You like this, lassie?” he asked, a knowing look in his eyes. Gods, I could hear his strokes, the sound of my moisture on his shaft unbearably arousing.

I reached a hand between my legs to finish myself off. Quick as lightning, Callum caught my wrist and pinned it next to my head. He caught the fist I swung at him and pinned that one, too, and then I had six-and-a-half feet of aroused Scotsman stretched over me, his massive dick lodged against my pussy. His mouth hovered above mine, our breaths mingling. My breasts mashed against his chest. I strained against his grip, testing his strength. As expected, I couldn’t budge him.

“You don’t want me to let you go,” he murmured, the teasing notes gone from his voice. Despite the dominance of his position, his eyes were tender. “And I never will, witchling. Not for as long as we live.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Now let me love you, lass. Let me show you how well we fit together.”

My breath caught. Was I really going to do this? Let this man—this dragon—claim me? Because this was more than sex. If Callum’s intentions hadn’t been clear before, they were now.

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