Page 18 of Guarded By the Bigfoot
He leaned down, his nose brushing mine. His fangs just barely grazed my lip as he whispered, “Now lie there and let me worship you.”
My brain short-circuited. Every thought that wasn’t yes please vanished.
I gasped as his grip tightened for a heartbeat longer, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who was in charge.
And then he let go.
But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. That voice, that look, that command pinned me more surely than any grip could have.
Brock slid his hands down my thighs again, slower this time, his touch focused, worshipful, like I was something holy and he was about to sin.
And then he spread me.
Slowly.
Like he had all the time in the world.
My legs trembled against his grip, and I felt air hit skin that had never felt so exposed. He looked up at me from between my thighs, his eyes glowing and hungry, his expression unreadable.
“Okay,” I breathed. “Just for the record, this is already wildly unfair.”
He didn’t answer. He lowered his mouth and tasted me like he had been starved for it.
My back arched off the bed.
“Oh my goddess.”
His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes at first. Long and deep and unhurried, like he was learning the shape of me. Then he circled, flicked, sucked with perfect, devastating pressure.
I gasped, hands fisting in the quilt beneath me. “Holy shit, okay, what the hell?”
He chuckled, his mouth still on me.
“Not legal,” I panted. “Pretty sure this violates forest code.”
His response was to tighten his grip on my thighs and pull me closer, his mouth sealing over me again. His tongue movedfaster now, more confident, and just as I thought I couldn’t take another second, his fingers joined in.
One thick finger slipped inside me with aching precision. Then another.
I moaned, loudly. I didn’t care. He didn’t stop.
His fingers curled at the perfect angle, finding a spot that made my vision go dark.
“Brock,” I gasped.
I shattered into pieces.
Hard.
My body arched, legs shaking, cries muffled by the arm I threw over my face because I was not going to scream.
He didn’t stop until I sagged back against the bed, boneless, drenched in sweat, gasping like I had just been resuscitated.
“Holy hell,” I breathed, staring at the ceiling. “That was... I think you broke something vital in my brain.”
He kissed my thigh, then bit it, gently.
My body was still humming with aftershocks when I caught the look in his eyes, predatory and possessive, not satisfied yet.
