Page 60 of Pretty Little Prey
Fucking choose me. Please.
His fingers explored her wetness, diving inside her tight sheath to stroke a special spot Bastille knew would drive her wild.Choose me over the dragon. Choose me.
“Close already?” he teased her as he felt her core clamping lightly around his digits. “Such a greedy little pussy. Needs to be tended to.”
“I hate you,” she bit out through breathy intakes.
“Don’t…say that,” he growled.
Her mouth fell open as he stroked her g-spot again and again, settling into a rhythm that made her dizzy with pleasure.
Need her touch. Bastille grabbed her hand and pressed it against his bare shaft. “Put me out of my misery, and I will make you feel so good.”
Her hand tightened around his cock, and he yelped with pleasure. Still, she hesitated.
He breathed into her ear, “My balls have been blue since the moment you bumped into me on the street. Damn it all, Iachefor you. Please, little prey. Just touch me. Please.”
And she…did.
What was she doing? Jerking the cock of the man she hated? Her captor. Was this a form of Stockholm syndrome?
Her small hand wrapped around the wide girth of his shaft, his skin scorching her with its heat. Weren’t snake shifters cold-blooded? Yet, Luna felt as if she were burning up from the inside.
It was the tortured “Please” from Bastille that got her. The word took her legs out from under her and shoved her into a pool of lust for him.
His alpha pheromones bombarded her, but it was more than that. Had anyone ever made her so mindless? So angry and turned on all at the same time?
His fingers still curled inside her, rubbing a spot that made her cross-eyed, moving in and out with such precise rhythm, she wanted to cry. He was sogoodat that. A strange jealousy rose in her at the question of how he had gotten so good at it.
It must have been his alpha scent corrupting her brain because with that jealousy came a desire to make him forget anyone before her.
She gave a test stroke of her palm around his shaft. His reaction of a jagged breath and a buck of his hips spurred her on. She had only given a hand job once in her life. Rohan had asked it of her, his alpha predator pheromones enticing her.
Bastille had saidplease.
Even now, the way his green eyes locked onto her face was so different from Rohan. Like he was silently whispering, “I would die for your touch.”
Gripping his cock, she began to stroke it in rough jerks up and down. Her thumb teased the rising liquid at the tip of him and used it as lubricant for her strokes.
With his right hand busy playing with her between her thighs, he moved his left hand to grab at the flesh of her breast, kneading it in his palm.
“These tits kill me,” he murmured and began pressing hot kisses down her neck as he fingered the life out of her. “Soft, perfect. Who gave you permission to be so fucking perfect?” When he alternated with fast-paced thrusts of his fingers, he made sure to grind the heel of his palm against her throbbing clit.
He had been right. She was already close to coming.
It made no sense the way she struggled to even give herself an orgasm; yet, these predators had achieved it in so little time.
“Kobe is close by,” he whispered in her ear, moving his fingers even faster.
Luna could not catch her breath. Her pussy fluttered around him.
“You need to either come in the next sixty seconds, or he will find you like this. Jerking me off, your pussy pinned on my fingers, soaking them in your sweet honey. He might want another taste.”
Her broken moan rang out. Gods, she really was drenching his fingers. Her wetness ran down his hand.
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Make me come, pretty prey.”
She moved her palm faster over him, both of them groaning out in unison.
