I loved her laugh. I wanted to hear it every day. Every hour. I never wanted her to stop smiling. Never wanted her to hurt or be angry. Well, that was a lie. I loved seeing the fire in her eyes when she was pissed.
My teeth bit down on her belly. She pushed at my head, trying to speed me along.
Oh, Princess, you have no idea how much patience I have. But you’ll see.
Moving to her hip, my hands roamed over her breasts once more, pinching a nipple when I nipped her hip.
“Oh God, Travis.”
The intoxicating scent of Melissa had me in a trance long before my face landed between her thighs. The sweet smell of her pussy had me momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to be going slow. I wanted to dive in the deep end and never come up for air.
“Please, Travis,” she begged, digging her heels into my back.
My hands splayed out across her soft belly, holding her down. Kissing her mound, I groaned. My every sense was on alert.
I could see the wetness leaking from between her lips. Remembering the way she tasted, I leaned in. A long slow lick with my tongue caused a low moan from Melissa.
The sounds that came from her had my dick pulsing faster than my fucking heartbeat. If I didn’t get inside her soon, I was gonna blow my fucking load on the bed.
She was a fucking addiction. It was the only reason my face was still buried in her cunt. I loved the way she smelled, the way she tasted. And I wanted her to let go all over my goddamn tongue. I wanted her scent to mark me. I wanted other women to smell her on me, so they knew I belonged to only her.
And I wanted other men to know they didn’t stand a fucking chance. She was mine.
Mine to love.
Mine to cherish.
Mine to fucking claim.
Chapter Fifty
Melissa
He was trying to kill me.
I was going to die from anticipation. My heart would give out from the slow burn of passion. I needed him to speed things up.
“Please, Travis,” I begged.
“What do you need, Princess?”
“I need to fucking come,” I groaned.
His answer was a chuckle as he continued to lick at me like he had all the time in the world. Like there was no worry about the ice cream cone melting and he could just spend hours at his task.
“Fuck!”
I reached down and tried to slide my fingers over my clit. He was occupied further south. His tongue dipped into my entrance like he was scooping pudding from a snack pack.
The feel on my fingertip sliding over the spot that needed the attention caused me to jerk my hips, catching his attention.
The feral growl he released and the glare as he lifted his head to chastise me almost set me off.
“Get your fucking hand off my pussy.”
Oh God, why was that hot? What did it say about me that his angry demand had me oozing like a tsunami?
“Hands, Princess. If you can’t control them, I will tie them to the fucking bed.”