Page 77 of Mated
“You want to ride my face?” I ask, eyes still locked on the sweet core of her.
She gasps, her stomach bunching and her head tilting up so she can look at me.
I offer her what I hope is a lighthearted grin. “Because I want you to.”
A low moan spills from her lips. “Please.”
Chuckling in earnest, I hook her legs over my shoulders. “Nisha, you never need to beg for that.”
Chapter 33
Tanner
My fingers dig into her hips and down over her full ass, seating her over my mouth as I part her drenched folds. The delicate wash of her body is intoxicating on my tongue, drawing a low rumble from my lips. She cries out. My lips wrap around her hard pearl, sucking until she keens in one ragged scream.
I jerk inside my jeans, the denim rubbing my swollen flesh until I’m raw.
Fuck.
I have to force my hands away from her body as my claws lengthen with my need. My need to seat myself deep into her slick core and fuck her until neither of us can move.
Reigning in the beast, I lick up her body and slip my tongue into her already rippling sheath. Her hands dig into my hair as she grinds her hips into my face. I growl again, pressing harder as I taste and lave at her delicate entrance.
It doesn’t take long for her to break apart, her thighs quivering on each side of my face. I lap at her cream until her cries echo off the walls. And then I clean her skin of every drop.
That is a flavor I will never get out of my head.
She pushes at me. “God.”
I shift a bit but rock back on my heels as she continues to shake. “Better?” I ask. My dick is rock hard inside my denim, but thankfully the material acts as a solid enough barrier to keep me from taking her like I want to.
Her head rolls to the side and she glares down at me. “I can’t … feel … my legs.”
My lips twitch. “Good.”
The delicate curve of her cheeks turns bright red, but otherwise she doesn’t remark. I rise to my feet and lift her against me before laying her back out on the pillows. My hand finds her hair before I can stop myself.
I smooth the thick tendrils back from her damp face and cup her cheek. “You hungry?”
She licks her lips. “Thirsty. Very thirsty.”
Nodding, I move to the mini-fridge and grab her a bottle of water. Uncapping it, I help to ease her up by the shoulders so she can drink.
Her slim throat works as she guzzles half in several long pulls. I ease the bottle back and help her to get comfortable.
She watches me almost shyly, her eyes that stunning sea green under her long ass lashes. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
“For what?” I ask, my hand finding its way into her hair again. For some reason, I can’t stop fucking touching her.
“For helping me.” Her cheeks heat. “I’m not normally …” She bites her lip and falls silent.
“This horny?” I supply.
A small nod is my only answer.
“Being a shifter guarantees our bodies stay almost over sensitized. With time, it eases enough to function. But every shifter goes through a bad patch of skin hunger during our first change.”
“Skin hunger?” she asks, frowning.
