One Insatiable

I lightly touch her cheek, closing my eyes as she goes down, pumping my shaft with her hand, flickering her tongue all over me. I’m about to come, but I want to be inside her for that. I reach down and catch her under the arms.

“Get up here,” I groan. “Ride me.”

She grins, wrapping her arms around my neck as I pull her thighs over mine again. “You’re insatiable,” she says, kissing my lips.

“I can’t seem to get enough of you.” My arm is tight around her small waist, and I reach down with my other hand to guide her closer to me, sinking all the way, balls deep.

“Oh, god, Koa.” She holds me a moment as I rock into her, then she leans back and looks in my eyes. “I want to taste you.”

“It’ll all be over if you do that,” I say leaning forward to claim her mouth. I’m moving her hips on me, so close to coming.

“Only for a little while.” Her eyes flash, and we both laugh. It’s true. I’ll be ready to go again pretty fast.

Her fingers are in my hair, and she pulls, moving my chin to give her access to my neck. Her small, lynx-fangs slide out and the moment she pierces me, I clench in orgasm.

“Fuck, yeah,” I groan, filling her as she sips my blood. She only takes a small amount, as we’re

not vampires. Still, the sensation is mind-blowing. I’m shooting through space as I fill her again and again with every pulse.

She flickers her tongue over the wound, which will heal in minutes, and she rests her cheek against my shoulder. As my essence moves through her, she stretches, rubbing her breasts and torso against my chest in a way that’s completely erotic.

Tasting is the most intimate act shifters engage in with each other. It reveals who we are, what our base nature is like. In some cases, for example, with mates, it can bind us to one another, allowing us to hear each other’s thoughts and feelings.

She doesn’t say what she’s getting from me, and I don’t ask her. She could get as little as how much I want her or as much as my entire recent history. I’m hoping it’s more of the first. After rubbing her body against mine a moment more, she stands, holding her hand out to mine.

“Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’re covered in clay. Let’s go inside and shower.”

Damn, this girl. “Won’t your relatives… object?”

“Nobody’s home but me and Aunt Penny, and she goes to bed early when Dylan’s out of town.”

I watch as she steps into the jeans again and pulls them over her hips. That scrap of lace is in my hand, and when I stand and pull my jeans back over my hips, I slip it in my pocket. She doesn’t say anything. The button-up is back over her shoulders, but she only fastens the middle two buttons. I’m wondering how every single thing she does is so drop-dead sexy to me, when she reaches for my hand again.

Taking hers, I allow her to lead me across the lawn, straight up the massive white steps leading into their mansion. She doesn’t stop once we go through the door. I look around the expansive foyer. It’s as big as some people’s houses. Dark wood flooring leads to another room beneath the double staircase. It’s all painted wood, columns, and arches, with a round table and chairs in the center.

We go up the right staircase to the second floor. She’s still holding my hand as she leads me down the wide hallway to her bedroom. It’s a beautiful room, with vaulted ceilings of exposed wood. An arched window is off to the side beside a small fireplace, and an enormous king-sized four-poster is against the far wall.

“Sweet,” I mutter under my breath. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen luxury like this.

Mercy doesn’t even stop. She steps out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile beside a tall armoire. Only the sight of her naked ass could snap me out of inspecting this place. She’s gone into her large bathroom, and I follower her.

It’s all beige stone with an elevated, jetted bathtub in the center. Mercy goes to the glass-enclosed shower and steps inside, turning on the water. Three different showerheads begin shooting out streams of water, and curls of steam start to rise.

She turns to me, and my eyes move slowly down her body. “Slip off your clothes and put them over there.” She points to a small closet in the corner of her bathroom.

I follow orders and once my clothes are gone, I walk across the warm tile floor to the shower. “Warm floor,” I say.

She pulls the tie out of her hair, and it falls at once around her like a dark curtain. “Nice in the winter.”

Tossing the hair tie onto the counter, she goes directly into the spray. I watch as the water runs down her body, flattening her hair, making her skin shimmer. For a moment, I only watch as she smooths her hands over her head, arching her back and lifting her breasts. The sight of her, her movements are better than anything I’ve ever seen on film or television.

She stops moving when she sees me watching her and drops her arms, walking to the door and pulling me inside. “Get in here.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me under the spray with her. It’s warm, and I simultaneously relax and heat up when she presses her lips against my chest.