Page 32 of Horned to be Wild
He cupped her face, her skin impossibly soft against his calloused palms.
“Lila,” he whispered, and then he kissed her. He poured everything he couldn’t say into his kiss—an apology for his withdrawal and a promise for the future.
She responded instantly, her arms winding around his neck, the blanket falling forgotten to the floor. Her small hands tangled in his damp hair, fingertips brushing the base of his horns, sending electric shivers down his spine.
He groaned against her mouth, his hands roaming her body through the thin flannel, relishing the softness, the curves that haunted his dreams. She was warm now, alive and responsive in his arms.
“I thought—” he murmured between desperate kisses, “—I thought I should stay away from you.”
“You were wrong,” she gasped, nipping at his lower lip.
The sensation sent a bolt of desire straight through him. He stood, lifting her with him, her legs wrapping automatically around his waist.
“I’m taking you to bed,” he growled, and she nodded frantically, pulling him back down for another searing kiss as he carried her up the stairs into his bedroom.
He laid her down on his bed, and paused for a moment to just stare at her. She was beautiful, her hair spread out in a dark halo against his pillows, her eyes wide and trusting, her lips parted and pink from his kisses. The shirt had fallen open, revealing a tantalizing expanse of skin and the generous curves that had been driving him mad for weeks.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered reverently.
Her eyes softened, and she held out her arms to him. Instead he knelt on the floor next to the bed and pulled her towards him.
“What are you- oh!” Her question turned into a gasp as his mouth found the inside of her thigh, nuzzling and licking his way towards the apex. She was already wet and ready for him, her sweet musky scent flooding his senses.
She moaned his name as he licked a broad stripe up her center. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her hips arching into him, and he groaned at the taste of her on his tongue, hot and sweet and perfect. He explored her with slow, deliberate strokes, learning her, teasing her, until her body tensed under him, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Then he closed his lips around her clit and slid one thick finger inside her, feeling her tighten around him, her body shaking as he worked her through her orgasm. Only when she collapsed, boneless and panting, did he withdraw, licking her sweetnessfrom his finger.One finger.He’d only had one finger inside her and she was already stretched tight. How was she ever going to take his cock?
She’s taken two of my fingers, he reminded himself before the familiar fear could take hold. He would just have to prepare her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, her eyes soft and dazed from her orgasm, and the sight filled him with pleasure. He’d put that look on her face. Him.
“Nothing’s wrong. You’re perfect.”
She laughed. “I’m most definitely not perfect. Now come here.”
He took a deep breath and climbed up on the bed beside her.
“You’re still dressed,” she murmured, her small fingers teasing the waistband of his sweatpants and making him shiver.
“I think it’s best.”
“Why?”
“We need to take it slowly.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” The question was half amused, half exasperated. “I want to see you.”
She tugged at his waistband, sliding the fabric over his cock, then stopped abruptly when it sprang free.
“Oh,” she said in a strangled tone. “Oh, my.”
“Now do you understand why we need to take it slowly?”
He reached down and tugged his pants the rest of the way off, tossing them to the floor, then returned to his position next toher. She stared at him, her eyes wide, and he resisted the urge to cover himself.
“I’m too big for you.”
“You’re too big for anyone.” She swallowed. “Are you sure that’s even real?”
