Page 93 of Ezra
“Good girl.” He teases my ear with a kiss, then lets me go and rips my jeans down my hips.
Ezra
Everything about my insides, from my ivory biocomponents to my processors, is heated, and I ride the feeling for as long as I can.
Hot-blooded man. It’s a common term I’ve heard. This is the closest I’ve come to it. Katrina is different from anything I’ve ever experienced. Every move she makes, every sound that erupts from that beautiful throat I just held in my hand, sends triumphant surges up my sensors, feeding my gratification drive, emboldening me, driving me onward.
I’ve never understood the human obsession with chastity, but now I understand just how intoxicating the idea of virginity can be. Katrina has never beenhadby any man, organic or otherwise.
For lesser men, that would grant a false sense of safety, probably take the edge off their performance due to a lack of comparison. Make them feel like conquerors, when they have no rival.
Pathetic. Like a participation trophy. For me, it’s so much more.
It means there has never been a single human man who was worthy of Katrina’s time or attention.
Conquering Katrina isn’t something I’ve considered. And here she is, willingly disheveled by my touch, breathless, wanting more. We’ve come from two very different worlds, never expecting they’d collide. She’s been a part of my life without my even knowing it, just out of reach.
But now I have her.
Now she’s mine.
I mean to unleash everything I’ve learned on this luscious woman I’ve silently craved since our first debate. Being the first man to make her come has me near a sensory overload.
She has no idea just how tangled she has my circuitry.
I toss her jeans to the floor, stand her up, and spin her around to gaze at her naked form. My palms skim the swell of her hips as I drink her in. Katrina doesn’t shy from me, gazing down at me just as triumphantly.
“Like what you see?” She’s still a bit woozy.
“More than like,” I reply. Biding my time, I press my lips to her stomach and gaze up at her as she wraps her arms around my head, toying with my hair. Her stiffened rosy peaks beckon me, begging to be sampled, to be kissed.
The things I could do to every inch of this woman.
I want to taste her.
“You nearly ripped my pants in half.” Her bedroom eyes have me thinking of breaking her headboard as I take a moment to calibrate my next move. “I forget how strong you are.”
Her words decide it for me. I smirk at her. “Oh? Shall I remind you?”
She bites her lip and nods.
Sweet, demure Katrina.
Katrina pulls at my clothes, thinking she’s guessed my next course of action. I allow her to unbutton my shirt and loosen my belt before I grasp her wrists and move her hands away. “Not yet.”
Confusion flickers across her features. “This is a two-way street, isn’t it? You had your fun. Now it’s my turn.” She nearly sounds defiant.
Another surge soars along my circuitry. Katrina thinks she’ll get under my skin with that attitude. Maybe at one time she did.
Now, it goads me. “Not today, it’s not.”
A gasp escapes her as I sweep her up into my arms and pin her against the wall. She tries to wrap her legs around my waist, but I keep them apart. She squirms, letting out a squeak as I lift her even higher and slip them over my shoulders instead.
She stares down at me, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. “Ezra...”
“You wanted to know how strong I was,” I say smugly, taking in her scent. My kisses tease her inner thigh and trace her folds. She wriggles and gasps, but I hold her firm. I blow gently across her velvet pussy and feel her shiver, goosebumps erupting across her soft skin.
Then my tongue finds her clit, still sensitive from before, and she erupts in a symphony of soft, rapturous noise where my name is her primary chorus. Driven on by how she grasps my head, fingers in my hair, I don’t relent. Lapping, swirling, enveloping myself in her taste, I don’t relent until she cries out again loudly, and her thighs clench around my head.
