“You know I do not like it when you swear.” The gold hoop jiggled as he nudged it aside. “Are you perhaps in the mood to be punished?”
His cock in her mouth prevented speech so she sent her displeasure to him in a short grunt. He caught it and returned it with a light nudge of her clitoris with his finger. Her grunt broke to a moan.
“You are very swollen. Very tender. Do you wish to come?”
Yes.
“Good.” His tongue stroked over her labia in gentle swirls which diminished to smaller and smaller circles until he rimmed the base of her clit, flipping the ring about as the rougher side of his tongue caressed the slick, aching sides of the straining nub. Each quick lap drove her need higher. She needed more, something more. She needed him. A hot, piercing pain struck inwards from her clit, followed immediately by a searing pleasure. He’d bitten her. And now he was feeding. From her clit.
Oh God, how could anything so freaky feel so blessedly good? She was on fire. From the thought, the pleasure. Her hips jerked. Another sharp pain wrenched a cry from her soul. His cock throbbed in her mouth. She moaned around his thick shaft. He was devouring her, not leaving her any defenses, pulling her into the fire of his passion, drawing her past what she could bear. His lips and tongue fluttered around her clit, every brush, every nudge creating an answering fire in her until she dug her fingers into his buttocks and screamed as she flashed out of control. And still he wasn’t satisfied. With every draw of his mouth, every brush of his lips he expressed his joy in her response, coaxing more, demanding more.
And then he started sucking. A strong hard suction that drew straight from her womb, her heart, dragging her lust past her inhibitions, leaving only a wanton woman in its wake. She thrashed in his arms, clawed at his thighs, sucked and bit his cock, lost in the spiking sensation, needing it to stop but desperate for it to go on. He kept her flying for what seemed like forever, slipping first one finger into her pussy and then another, fucking her in time with his suction, pumping his cock to the same rhythm. He took her from one peak to the next, each one higher, never letting her totally down, never coming himself, just holding her on the tip of his cock, on the promise of his desire. Pleasuring her.
When he would have driven her over for the fourth time, she shook her head and pushed at his hips. She couldn’t bear it. Every nerve ending was raw with spent passion. The lightest brush of his tongue stuck through her like a lightning bolt. He had to stop. He nuzzled the joining ring as he resumed feeding in light sips. Her desire rose again. She dropped her hands to his head. His hair was cool against her palms. She wrapped her fingers in the smooth strands and pulled him closer, thrusting her hips to his pleasure, desperate to give him all he needed, not sure if she could survive the giving.
The last echoes of her climax hummed through her pussy while the beginnings of a new one started to sing right alongside. His finger slipped out of her pussy and followed the copious spill of her juices to her anus. Her breath caught as he rimmed the tight band of muscle. His cock pressed down as his finger pressed in. She closed her eyes as she shuddered from head to toe, lashing his cock with her tongue as she savored the possession. He was going to fuck her ass. With a silent pop of muscle his finger sank deep. Oh God, it felt so good. So good. She pressed down, urging him on. His chuckle vibrated against her clit. And then he was working his finger deeper. In then out. Faster. Harder. His lips took up the rhythm, then his cock. More pressure on her anus which became a burning ache, spread to a frisson of sharp-edged delight. She wanted it to last forever. She couldn’t stand it another second. It was too much. He was too much.
Her orgasm hit her in a violent wave of color that swept away everything, leaving only Deuce. She wrapped her hands in his hair and tugged. Hold me.
Immediately he was at her side, pulling her into his arms. Her mouth felt empty without his cock. He filled it with his tongue. He tasted of blood, of her, of them. His fingers wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Be easy, mate.”
Easy for him to say, he hadn’t just been flung out into the universe without a lifeline.
Her hair stuck to her cheek with her sweat. Deuce eased it off, as always seemingly fascinated with the way the curls wrapped around his hand. “I am always with you.”
“Uh-huh.” He was smiling again. Not a big one, but a little one that teased the corners of his mouth and gave his sharply handsome features a sexier edge. If that was possible.
She worked her forearms up so she could link her hands around his neck. “When I’m recovered, could we do that again?”
“It will be your mate’s pleasure to eat your pussy whenever you prove deserving.”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s not go there again.”
He blinked as if he didn’t understand. “Go where?”
“Machoville.” She waved to his pile of clothes beside them. “I think we just proved these traditions are flexible.”
He glanced at the pile and then at her. His right brow arched. “Is this how you show gratitude for your mate’s aid?”
“Aid, my foot.”
He sat up, taking her with him as he got to his feet. “You were in distress.”
She looped her arms around his neck. “I’m not the one who tore off his clothes and erupted like a volcano.”
It was only a few steps to the bed. Eden moaned in protest as he set her down away from all that lovely muscle. He stood above her, shirt halves hanging from his wrists, body bare, his heavy cock glistening with her saliva. His long hair hung around his face in a heavy tangle, setting off the slight slant of his cheekbones, the determination in his eyes, and the inherent power he wielded so effortlessly. Holding her gaze, he tore one of the sleeves free. His gaze narrowed. Power radiated off him with a deadly shimmer. “Since you do not appreciate my restraint, maybe I should show you how a Chosen punishes a disobedient mate.”
“You think that was disobedient?”
“Yes.”
The sleeve dropped to the floor with quiet expediency. He took a step forward, and then another, clearly intent on intimidation. He was so full of shit.
Eden fell back on the bed with a smile, pulling her heels up, letting her knees fall wide. She slid her fingers down her stomach, over the bare mound of her pussy until they met the hot metal of the ring. Holding his gaze, she dipped her fingers into the slick well of her vagina, drawing up the thick cream gathered there, smoothing it over the deep carvings before cradling the anointed hoop in the palm of her hand. “I can be so much more disobedient than that.”
Deuce’s eyes widened and then narrowed. The other sleeve dropped to the floor, and then he was coming down over her, chest jerking with the laughter he was trying to contain. “You have no caution, my heart.”
“No patience either.” She shrugged and wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing his heat and power to her. “You’ve a long time to get used to it.”
The bed sagged as he shifted his weight onto his elbows. “A very long time.”
His cock nestled into the well of her vagina. Pleasure speared inward and then shot out. Eden tightened her thighs, bringing him closer. “Forever,” she groaned as he pressed in, her body weeping a welcome as her muscles willingly parted.
“Forever,” he repeated, his satisfaction echoing in her mind. “Come to me, mate.”
And she did, opening her body to his possession, offering him everything that she was, and when his soul touched hers in that gentlest of caresses, sheltering her, pulling her close, holding her carefully, a new almost silent whisper joined the first. Stay?
She froze. Above her Deuce stiffened. His head angled back in that arrogant tilt that dared her to make something of the slip while in her mind that one word lingered. A request, not an order. A Chosen man calling to his mate, asking for the one thing he needed to feel whole. Her full commitment.
How could he not know he already had it? Eden caught Deuce’s between her palms, touched the hard line of his lips with her finger, and smiled. Slowly, deli
berately she reached down and caught his hand in hers. With the same deliberateness, she brought his hand to his chest. He hesitated. She tapped his finger. The nail lengthened and thinned as he watched her with disbelief, and the faintest glimmer of…despair? She pressed the razor-sharp nail into the thick, heavy muscle, drawing a line.
His blood spilled between them. The gift she’d never consciously accepted. Red flames leapt in his gaze. His cock thickened and surged. His breath caught. She rose, bringing her mouth to the life-giving flow. He froze above her, every muscle hardened in agony as he waited, battling the hope he didn’t want her to see, projecting an indifference she knew he didn’t feel.
Holding his gaze, she drank, letting the emotion pour from her to him, following it with her mind. With the courage that was so much a part of him, he let her seek out the darkest corners of his soul, allowing her to see his strengths and vulnerabilities. Holding nothing back. She closed her eyes against the onslaught, against the hurt he harbored inside, the conviction that her human heart would always want something better.
She shook her head. That was so unacceptable. She lapped at the dwindling flow of blood before placing her hand over his heart, the beat as steady as the man himself. Deuce was everything she’d ever wanted in a package she’d never dreamed big enough to imagine. He was strength, passion. Love. So much love. It poured through her in a never-ending flow of invisible light, burning out insecurity and fear—leaving only confidence in it’s wake. She was not alone. Would never be alone again.
She was a Chosen mate, forever bathed in the light of Deuce’s love and protection.
And if he thought he was getting out of knowing that same security he was so mistaken. She caught the path of his emotion and forged her own inside it. One just as bright and just as strong. Into it she poured every bit of emotion she felt—her happiness, her satisfaction. Her love. Every single bit of her love.
And then she sent it back, pushing it deep into his soul, finding all the fears he harbored in the deepest, darkest corners, paying special attention to that lingering uncertainty, and burned them away. There was no room for doubt in their relationship.
She was his. Completely. Without reservation.
Beneath her hand, his muscles flinched. In her mind his joy grew, but in his gaze a question lingered. She dropped back to the mattress, shaking her head at his determination to protect her even from herself. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers.
Against his growing smile, she whispered. “Just try to get rid of me.”
About the Author
Sarah has traveled extensively throughout her life, living in other cultures, sometimes in areas where electricity was a concept awaiting fruition and a book was an extreme luxury. While she could easily adjust to the lack of electricity, living without the comfort of a good book was intolerable. To fill the void, she bought pencil and paper and sketched out her own story, and in the process, discovered the joy of writing. She's been at it ever since.
Sarah welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.
Also by Sarah McCarty
Mac’s Law
Promises Linger
Promises Keep
Promises Prevail
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