Lycan Christmas by S. Yule (best contemporary novels txt) 📗

159

Lycan Christmas

S. K. Yule

“Do you have any idea how much this butterfly turns me on?” He looked up at her. The bright glow shining in his hazel eyes gave proof of his desire and showed a glimpse of the predator that lurked inside.

She was barely able to groan in response since every coherent thought had been ripped from her mind, replaced by pleasure that Lorent created with his worship of her body, by pleasure that she now found herself immersed in. She quivered in anticipation of his next caress, his next kiss.

He ran his tongue around her navel and the butterfly a few more times before pushing her sweats off her hips. Next he hooked his fingers in her panties, and they swiftly followed her sweats to the floor. His lips trailed over her mound, and his finger slid effortlessly through her slickened folds.

When his tongue flicked over her clit, she moaned and arched up, begging for him to continue the sweet assault on her sensitive flesh.

“You taste like heaven,” he growled against her.

Before she had time to be embarrassed, before she had time to respond, his tongue replaced his fingers and dipped inside her. His mouth created havoc on her emotions and rapture on her senses. Havoc. Pure, blissful havoc. His fingers splayed across the expanse of her waist, while his palm rested low on her abdomen, holding her hostage as he ate at her, licking, nipping, dipping deep, and retreating, driving her to the edge time and again, then withdrawing just before she fell.

Her head spun, her heart thundered, and she yanked his hair, probably hard enough to cause pain, but he didn’t seem to notice. She sobbed as the storm built inside her, swirling harder and harder, centering low in her core until finally he slipped one long finger inside her and drove his tongue against her clit, causing her to explode into a million tiny shards. She cried out his name over and over while she arched off the bed, grinding against him as he continued to wring every gasp, every ounce of pleasure from her.

When he stood, she couldn’t move—her body boneless from the release he’d given her— and she watched him from under half-closed lids as he unbuckled his belt, then jeans. When the zipper came down, and the denim was pushed off his hips, her eyes widened.

160

Lycan Christmas

S. K. Yule

“Oh my. I don’t know if that will fit.” She sat up on her elbows, apprehension rapidly shining like a beacon through the fog of ecstasy.

“I’ve never done this before, but I know how it works, and I can assure you that it will fit.” He gave her a feral smile that nearly curled her toes.

He lay down on the bed next to her, and she reached out to him. “Can I touch you?”

He leaned forward and kissed her. A hint of the taste of her passion on his lips ignited her need for him once again.

“Touch me anytime you’d like. I’m yours, Melony.”

She trailed her fingers along the top of his shoulder, then down over his bicep and around to his pec, where she circled his small brown nipple, intrigued when it pebbled in excitement. She bent and placed a quick kiss against it, eliciting a groan from him. She continued down and traced each indention of his six-pack before swirling her finger around his belly button.

She continued her exploration around to his hip, then back into the soft, springy hair that nestled the part of him she was most curious about at the moment.

She gently encircled him, stroked down then upward, but he placed his hand over hers, halting the movement.

“Did I do something wrong?” Had she hurt him?

“No. But if you continue touching me like that, I’ll never make it inside you. And I need to be inside you, more than I need my next breath.”

She smiled up at him. “I’m yours.”

His mouth crashed down on hers, and within moments, the kiss built in urgency. He ran his hands over her body, stroking her, kneading her, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She opened her mouth to him and began to drown in the taste of him. His touch soon matched his kiss in urgency, and she squeaked when she was suddenly flipped facedown on the bed.

He reared up behind her and pulled her hips up and back until his heavy shaft rested between her cheeks. He slid back and forth through her wet folds, the end of his cock brushing over her clit each time. The apprehension of his size drained away completely as he stoked the fire and pushed her to the edge once again.

161

Lycan Christmas

S. K. Yule

He arched over her and kissed her on the ear. “I’m sorry.”

Before she had time to wonder what he had to be sorry for, he bit down on her shoulder gently, without breaking the skin, and surged up into her.

Pain tore through her, and she cried out and tried to crawl away from the unfamiliar invasion of her body, but he held her firmly and growled against her. The pain was like nothing she’d ever felt, feral, final, possessive, and when it started to lessen, she focused on the feel of him filling her.

He held perfectly still, and when she stopped struggling, he pulled out of her until just the tip of him rested inside. The sudden loss of him was more painful than when he’d taken her virginity. She quivered, and sobbed, and tried to push back against him, needing, wanting him back inside her, but he held her firmly immobile.

“Please, Lorent,” she sobbed.

He finally released his bite and placed one hand on her back between her shoulders while the other remained holding her hip. He urged her down until her cheek was pressed againt the pillow, then slammed home. The pain but a distant memory, she cried out, relieved at the way he