Fueling His Hunger (Masters of Adrenaline 2)

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Luke.”

“Please what?”

“It’s not fair,” she whined.

“What’s not fair?” His mouth was moving against her as he spoke. It was almost enough.

“I need you,” she said, pouting. She cupped her breasts, then caught her nipples between her fingers, rolling and pinching them the way he did sometimes, but frustratingly, it didn’t have the same effect.

“You need my mouth here?” He held her down harder, his hands like iron on her thighs, holding her open, his breath caressing her heated core. His voice had gotten even deeper, resonating in her belly.

Fuck. She was so close, and so deliciously at his mercy.

He traced his tongue over the sensitive skin around her clit, exploring. The tension in her body put her at risk of shaking apart. She forgot to play with her nipples as he teased her. Lick, kiss, lick. Each movement of his mouth drew an involuntary gasp or whine from her.

“Poor baby,” he crooned. “Why are you so wet?” Without waiting for an answer, he slid his finger through her slickness, then up inside her. His hot mouth latched onto her clit and he started to gently suck. The pull of his mouth and push of his finger froze her in place. Her eyes fell closed, and the sun painted the insides of her lids with light.

The movements of his mouth and fingers overrode every other sensation as he explored and teased her. He finger-fucked her, pausing when the feats of his clever tongue got her too close to coming. Eased off. Began again. A second finger joined the first, curved to rub against her G-spot. Her clit became slave to his thumb and mouth, changing suction for friction then back again, forcing her arousal to a desperate pitch and left it hovering there, waiting for him to decide she’d suffered enough.

He stopped again, catching her wrist when she tried to smack him.

“Heartless bastard,” she complained.

In a blur of movement, he flipped her belly down on the bare rock and swatted her ass. She felt small and vulnerable with her feet dangling above the ground.

“What do you need to do if you want to come, little girl?” he growled, slapping her again, then again but harder when she didn’t respond fast enough. The burn lent its heat to the warmth between her legs.

“Wait?” She groaned in frustration. “I need to wait if I want to come.”

“Until what?”

“Until you decide I deserve it.”

“That’s right.” The sound of his belt coming off made her sob with anticipation. “I guess you haven’t learned your lesson yet.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be bad.”

A sound that was more of a strangled growl was his initial response until he calmed down enough to make words happen.

“So you agree you need to be punished?”

After a quiet pause, she admitted, “Yes, Luke.” She wriggled in place, wishing she could touch herself.

The first stroke of his belt was pure rapture.

“Careful, sweetheart. You’re going to give me the impression that you like this.”

The second stroke made her cry out, but in pain.

Well, she tried to pretend it was pain, but he didn’t seem fooled.

“You think I like this?” She gasped. “No! It hurts and it’s humiliating.”

He traced a finger along the welt he’d just left, and her shuddering sigh probably tipped him off.

The next two belt strokes were hard as hell and made her screech in protest. When he stopped, adjusting to the horrible sting made her regret baiting him. Blearily, her bones turned to jelly, she had to admit it made her want him even more.

“I’m sorry, Luke. I shouldn’t have tried to slap you.”