stroked the length of my sex again, I raised my hips, involuntarily following his tongue. He chuckled at my response, and then I felt him thrust his tongue deep into my core even as he thrust into my mouth.
My senses in overload, I worked the length of his cock with my tongue and my mouth, but the feel of his tongue thrusting deep inside me was distracting me beyond my limits, and my movements were jerky and abrupt. Josh didn’t seem to mind—when I stopped working, he would thrust his hips up a little, pushing into my mouth again, and I would start anew, sucking and licking at him. The torture of his mouth was incredibly distracting, making my entire body drawn and tense with need.
I felt his hand lift from one of my thighs, and as his tongue speared deep again, I felt his thumb graze my clit, rolling it against the pad of his finger. Oh, my God. That was . . . I rocked my hips against his face, hard, no longer caring about being shy. His purr grew louder, and I could feel it in his tongue as he stroked it inside my sex, the faintest hint of vibration deep in his throat. Stroke, vibration, thumb on my clit. Stroke, purr, thumb on my clit. I was lost in that chain, barely realizing that I wasn’t fulfilling my end of things and only licking wildly at his cock. All of my attention was on his mouth on my sex.
His thumb rubbed my clit hard, just as he stroked his tongue deep again. I gave a sharp little cry and came, the orgasm ripping through me with startling intensity. He murmured something that sounded like praise, his thumb still rubbing my clit, drawing out the crashing waves of the orgasm as I writhed over his face, lost in need.
When he stopped, I gasped for breath, only to find him sliding out from under me. His hands grabbed my hips, his movements almost rough, and hauled them into the air, my cheek pressed to the bed as I lay on my stomach. I felt him raise up behind me, felt the hard probe of his cock against my sex.
He thrust in a finger, and I bucked my hips. It felt tight but so good. He hissed in response. “So wet.” He pushed again, and it felt . . . thicker. Two fingers. Then he scissored his fingers inside me, and I gasped at the sensation. “Are you ready, Marie?”
I nodded, feeling tension building in my body all over again. I wanted another orgasm; needed more from him.
He gripped my hips and I felt him nudge at my entrance—and this time he pushed in, and it was big and hot. I bit my lip as he pushed in, inch by inch. It felt deep and thick, and like he was stretching me. Delicious and full and intense.
When he stopped moving, he stroked my buttock and thigh. “Am I hurting you?”
I gave a tentative wiggle, more of a tease than anything. I felt his big body over mine, his knees up against my spread ones. His cock was buried deep inside me. “It feels amazing.”
“Good,” Josh gritted, and then he thrust.
I gasped again. That was . . . incredible. “Keep going!”
He pushed deep and began to slowly stroke into me with quick, hard thrusts. His hips pistoned his cock into me, stroking over and over. The surge deep inside me made the tingle inside me build again, and I rocked my hips back against his next thrust, needing more force, more friction, more everything.
He groaned, his fingers digging into my backside as his thrusts became harder, rougher, less controlled. “You’re mine,” he growled, and punctuated each word with a hard drive into me. “Say it, Marie.”
“Yours,” I breathed, and was rewarded with another hard stroke. His touch was branding me. Owning me. And right now, I wanted to be owned. More than anything else, I wanted to be his. “All yours.”
Josh gave a feral snarl and his fingers dug into my hips. Claws pricked at my skin and I gasped at the bite of pain.
“Josh!”
He came with a snarl, rocking into me hard, pushing my entire body forward into the mattress. His strokes slowed and he rocked into me one more time, breathing hard, and I wriggled against him again, still needing more. “
His hand moved between my legs, cupping me. Teasing me. “Say you’re mine?”
“Yours,” I sobbed, pushing against his hand with deep-seated need.
Josh dipped a finger into the curls of my sex and began to slowly rub my clit. I stiffened and came hard, again, my sex clenching, body rocking with need.
Eventually I stopped shuddering and was left gasping in the aftermath. Josh pulled me against him, tucking my head under his chin. He pressed a kiss to my hair and hugged me close, and I felt the rumble of his purr low in his throat.
I felt warm and happy at his side. Sated. Elated.
A weird emotion crept up inside me. Contentment? The aftermath of lust?
It wasn’t love . . . was it? I couldn’t afford love.
And yet, I kept feeling it.
Josh kissed my hand. “You hungry?”
I chuckled. Food was the last thing on my mind, but shifters needed to eat constantly. I’d seen how much food tiny Sara could pack away. “Not really, but I am open to suggestion.”
“I’ll finish making you the
We showered first, quickly soaping each other up and chatting about small things. He was tender and affectionate, kissing me constantly and wrapping his arms around me as we washed and then toweled each other off. By the time we made it back to the kitchen, we were both worked up again.
It took a few hours to get the
And then he fell asleep. I dozed for about ten minutes, and then my brain snapped awake, just like it always did. Frustrated, I slid out of bed and wrapped my robe around my body, heading for my puzzle with a yawn. No sense in waking Josh up.
I had just put together a corner when I felt him place his hands on my shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. “Can’t sleep?” he asked in a drowsy voice.
“Understatement of the century,” I said with a wry half smile. “You can go back to sleep. It’s okay.”
But he only pulled a chair next to mine and looped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. His chin perched on my shoulder, and he watched me as I pulled another piece out of the pile of corner pieces and studied it.
Wrapped around me. Not chatting in my ear. Not taking over the puzzle. Just being with me. Letting me know that I wasn’t alone.
It was good that my tumbled hair hid my face, or he might have seen the tears that pricked my eyes.
“Tell me about your mother,” he said quietly. “What was she like?”
I thought for a moment, turning a puzzle piece in my hand without really seeing it. “She was exuberant. Larger than life. Everything she did was big. She laughed big, smiled big, and threw the worst temper tantrums I’ve ever seen.” I smiled fondly at the memories. “And she loved my father an insane amount. When he had to travel for business, she’d just wilt. And when he was back, she perked right up again. They were wonderful together, and so happy. And we all used to love to go on vacation, wherever we felt like driving to that weekend. I was lucky to have those times with them.”
“And she was French-Canadian?”
I nodded. “Quebecois. Her family was a very small but old one. Very Catholic and old Quebec. They didn’t speak a word of English, and my father and I didn’t speak French, so we were never super-close to them. My dad only knew a few phrases here and there. My mother, though, she was very quick to spout off in her native language. She cussed in French whenever she was mad, and I picked it up,” I said with a faint smile. “There’s nothing that feels quite so good as ranting at someone in a foreign language.”
He grinned and kissed my shoulder. “Sounds sexy when you do it.”
I shook my head. “Mine are watered down. She could cuss a blue streak.”
“How did your parents meet?”
“She rear-ended him in a parking lot and cussed him out. He thought she was fascinating. The rest was history.”
“So it runs in the family, that women are attracted to men that drive them wild? I see.” Josh gave me a
