Velvet Cataclysm (Princes of the Underground 1)

When she saw his questioning look after she’d restrained one muscular arm, she added, “It’s not that it turns me off. In fact, it’s…” She swallowed thickly as her gaze flickered down over the divine specimen of male flesh she’d just finished restraining to a sitting position on the bed. Downright triple-X hot, she couldn’t help finishing in her head.

“You said you wanted to touch me, didn’t you? You’ll be able to bring us both pleasure this way. I won’t be as likely to take from you.”

“Saint.” Tears of exasperation sprung to her eyes. “Whatever I give you, I give you freely.”

His angular claw clenched, and she knew instinctively he didn’t want to argue with her. She shook her head, but her eyes remained glued to the awesome sight of his naked abdomen. Before she knew what she’d planned, her lips were rubbing against a fascinating landscape of delineated muscle and smooth skin. Her lips and cheeks became her instruments of knowledge as she explored him slowly, her eyes closed in suspended sensual gratification. When she tasted his skin with the tip of her tongue, running it over a ridge of taut muscle, he groaned roughly.

Her hands joined in her mouth’s discovery. She found that he shivered when she scraped her front teeth against the sides of his ribcage and that he growled dangerously when she suckled his tiny copper-colored nipples to taut erection. The taste she gathered on her tongue with more and more frequency as she toured his chest and nibbled at succulent shoulder muscles and dense biceps was salt.

She loved that she made Saint sweat.

Her absorption was so complete that at first she didn’t hear him calling to her.

r /> “Stina!”

His shout finally pierced her intoxication. She blinked heavily and looked up at him. He pulled tight on his wrist restraints, making every muscle on his arm, shoulders and chest bulge. She shivered. His eyes seemed to glow preternaturally in the dimly lit room, a blatant reminder that she was definitely not in bed with a human male.

“Suck on my cock.”

Christina blinked, realizing she was bending down to his lap when she’d never told herself to move. She glared up at him.

“Don’t you dare pull that thing on me.”

“What thing?” he asked blandly.

“That mind-control thing.”

He shook his head slowly. “As if it’d do me a bit of good to use my ascendancy on you.”

Christina swallowed thickly, unsure what to make of the rich resonance of his tone.

She rose to a kneeling position and straddled his hips. She brought her face to an inch of his and rubbed her breasts against his chest, using the light coat of sweat on both of their bodies to slide their nipples together. When he curled his lip, she expected to see an elongated incisor. The evidence of his restraint caused her to seal her belly to his ribs. She moved her hips in a tight, circular motion, writhing against him, her opened pussy perched just inches from his lap. His nostrils flared and she wondered if he could feel her heat on his cock. She thought she got her answer when his erection batted her on the bottom.

“I have made myself vulnerable to you. This is how you would treat me?” he accused, his brows arching up wryly.

“You’re about as vulnerable as a caged lion. Are you saying you’re not enjoying this?” she whispered.

“As much as anyone enjoys torture,” he replied gruffly, his gaze glued on her mouth.

She leaned down and brushed his lips with her own in a whisper-soft caress. His penis popped against her ass again.

“It’s only torture if it doesn’t end,” she whispered. He leaned in to consume her mouth, his arms stretching behind him. But Christina moved quickly, dropping her head to his lap. He hissed a curse; his body jerked against the restraints. She might have been teasing him, but in truth, his expression of profound need left her heart sore.

She picked up his swollen erection and studied his naked length in fascinated lust. A stream of pre-come leaked from the slit, wetting the succulent cap. She licked it hungrily. Her tongue traced a few blue, turgid veins. She stretched her jaw wide and vacuumed him into her mouth.

His indrawn breath across his teeth made a hissing sound.

Chapter Fifteen

Saint watched her head moving in his lap through narrowed eyes. He groaned as she slid another inch of his cock along her tongue, her jaw creating a strong clamp around him, her suck sublime. Fellatio being the primary manner in which he took sexual satisfaction, Saint immediately recognized innate talent for the skill. Christina possessed it in as much abundance as her other gifts.

When she fearlessly worked past her gag reflex and squeezed the tip of his cock into her throat, he felt his incisors lengthen. He clamped his eyes shut. It infuriated him that he had so little control. Christina began sucking him long, rapid, and deep, her exuberance making it impossible to focus on anything but the dizzying, electrifying thrill-ride she treated his cock to.

Gods, it felt good. He imagined their positions being reversed, saw her restrained to the bed while he plunged his aching cock between her lush lips again and again. It was his preferred manner of oral gratification…to be in total control of his pleasure. What had he been thinking giving up what little power he had in this situation?

She sucked even harder, pistoning his aching, throbbing flesh between her lips at a pace that made his eyes roll back in his head. She’d desensitized her throat sufficiently to take the tip of the head of his cock into the narrow, clasping channel on each forceful down stroke. He strained up wildly, the leather restraints biting at the flesh of his thighs.

“Christina, stop.”