“That’s my job. Those are mine,” he said gruffly.
She nearly roared at him in her need, then moaned in her pleasure at the sensation of his fingers teasing her folds.
“That’s it, Peaches. Be in the moment. There’s no destination. It’s just me and you, and we have all the time in the world. Enjoy it.”
She bucked when he found her clit. “Oh my God! Take my fucking panties off, please.”
His devilish laugh fanned her flames of desperation. “Is this good, GiGi?”
“So good I might die if you don’t take them off.”
“Relax.”
“Tell me to relax one more time and I might not be able to control my claws.”
The guttural growl underlined the tearing of her stretchy lace panties.
“Spread your legs for me, GiGi,” he moaned. As soon as she obeyed, he rewarded her with the softest pressure of his lips against the bare flesh in front of him. Her breathing grew louder and more rapid. She ached for more pressure, more contact, and pressed back. He insisted on going slow. She warned him, “Please, I can’t take it, I need you to be rough. You don’t know what you’re dealing with, Buster.”
The beast inside her was so hungry and so was his, by the looks of it. He was holding back so much, torturing the both of them, his forehead glistened with sweat.
She made a noise that came from the back of her throat, and then she was raking his back with her nails and fisting her hands in his thick golden hair.
The hair-pulling did something to him. The man lifted her with his two beefy arms, splayed himself back on the mattress, and planted her on his face.
GiGi squealed in surprise, but the pressure, the fucking pressure she had been begging for, was finally happening.
Chapter Eleven
Vann
He’d been wondering all night what her honey might taste like. It was pure, uncut GiGi. Sweet, sticky, juicy, and intoxicating. How could he have waited five minutes before dropping this perfection on his face and devouring every drop? He was kicking his former self from 24 hours earlier for not dragging her by the hair to his house the second he knew who she was.
Destiny tasted better than anything he’d ever created with his chef’s hands. People called his talents, his food, magical. Everything paled in comparison to his one true person.
Vann marveled as she rode his face, egging him on to delve his tongue deeply into her heat. He was going to enjoy making her come so hard she would be ruined for anyone else.
There would never be anyone else. She was his. His soul had already claimed her. He loved that she liked to take control, that she made demands of him. The hair pulling almost sent him into orbit on the delicious pain.
He was crazy to ever assume he wouldn’t mate for life with anyone other than a shifter. Sometimes he’d briefly considered the idea of adding some calmness, steadiness to his life by mating to a Normal. But this…GiGi…was so much better.
He shifted her hips and sucked her clit into his mouth, massaging it with his tongue. It only took about two or three strokes before she shattered around him.
“Fuck!” she shouted.
Amid her full-body spasms, Vann had her on her back underneath him.
“Here we go, darlin’.” GiGi clawed his chest and smiled through her aftershocks while he rolled on the condom.
The moment he pressed the tip in, something took over her. She was like a wild cat. She squeezed, thrust, clawed.
The sounds coming from this small woman under him were from another world. Her face grew feral, and her nails dug into his back, demanding the closeness, the fullness of him deeper inside her.
Her expression grew wilder and wilder with every deep thrust. Her tightness was unreal.
He thought he was giving it to her so hard, but her body strained against him, her arms demanded more. Over and over again he gave in to her demands; she was far more needful than she let on during polite conversation…and he loved her for it.
The wild, feral face he watched underneath him then began to twist in pain, and he slowed. When she refused to let him slow down, he saw what was happening. She was losing control of the panther inside.
“Baby, are you okay?”
But he was helpless now, and she was unresponsive on this plane of existence. She might try to split him in half with the grip of her legs, and he was not about to try to stop her. The two of them were weird, mystical creatures, and something weird was definitely happening.
Her nails very nearly seemed to puncture his back, and the pain lit him up from the inside. The digging in, the holding on, made his body crackle with pleasure. “Baby, your nails. Fuck, yes!” And suddenly she was coming again, and his body orgasmed with her without letting go of his seed; he wanted to keep control of it to last as long as she did. Her body tightened around his cock, convulsing, and more strange, primal moaning ripped from her throat.
He watched her carefully, held her tight, spoke to her gently, hoping but also not hoping that she would come back to earth in a minute. She responded to his sweetness by planting her mouth at the base of his neck and biting down. Hard. “Get it, girl,” he whispered. It was excruciating but also a fucking delicious pain.
He let go of his control on himself and came again, this time filling the condom and probably spilling over and out.
As his explosion subsided, he tried to catch his breath enough to ask her if she was okay.
And then he felt it. The warm, damp dripping down his back. And more of the same on his front. He looked down and saw red. The metallic smell. Blood. A lot of it.
Vann looked back up at her and he saw that she was coming back down to earth. She had a look
