“Yeah?” Whoa. His voice hadn’t cracked like that since he was a teenager.
“You might want to check and see if I’m too hot or too cold.”
The blush on her cheeks was in direct contrast to her bold words. “I’ll have to eat a lot to make sure.” He knelt at her feet, ready to worship her. “You know, blow on it if it gets too hot, warm it up if it gets too cool.” He stroked a finger down her stomach until it rested just above her clit. “Until it’s just right.”
She shivered, her hips thrusting toward his hand. Her expression was filled with desire as she buried her hand in his hair. Instead of the pressure he expected, the demand, her caress was soft, pleading. “Yes, Rye.”
He took his first taste of the night, ready to set aside their game. The need to make her come was overwhelming, almost as intense as when she claimed him. So instead of gentle touches, he took her into his mouth and suckled her, enjoying her startled, pleasure-filled cries.
The hand that had been softly stroking his hair clenched, holding him in place while she thrust her hips against his face. Ryan did his best to follow, but a sharp tug told him to stay still.
Glory was beautiful, wild, her curls spread out beneath her. Her pink nipples stood, ripe and ready for Ryan’s mouth. He wanted to taste her there, too, to suck and bite and scratch the flawless skin with his beard, just to watch her quiver. He’d mark her with his beard, his teeth, his come until they were both a pile of satisfied goo on the floor.
But first, he had to make his mate come.
She was muttering, tugging at him with impatient hands, demanding that he do something, anything, but Ryan refused to give up his prize. He growled, loving her choked cry as the vibrations of his growl rocketed through her, triggering an orgasm.
Well, now. Wasn’t that interesting?
Ryan continued to lap at his mate, soothing her, building her back up as the shivers began to turn once more into moans. But this time he growled for her, kept the sound going, giving her his own version of a hummer, Bear style.
Glory went wild beneath his mouth. The grip in his hair became painful, but he couldn’t care less. His mate was taking from him, accepting the pleasure he gave her, and nothing could drag him away.
This time, when she came, her eyes scrunched shut and her whole body shook. Her breath came in panting gasps, her skin flushed, and Ryan nearly came in his jeans at the sight.
Ryan waited for the spasms to pass, for her eyes to open and focus on him. The precious, rare smile, the one she only gave to him, crossed her face. “Mmm.”
She stretched, thrusting her breasts up, tempting him. “Just right?”
She nodded and moaned softly again, a happy, sated sound.
“My turn, then.” And he wouldn’t last long, not at all. Just watching her had him throbbing, aching. He needed to bury himself inside her again, both fang and cock.
Glory stood, almost toppling over. He righted her, laughing when she made a face. “What?”
“Mm. Nothing.” No way was he going to say he was proud that he’d made her knees weak. If he did, she might show him how not weak they were. Once he was certain she could stand on her own, he moved the end table out of the way and gestured toward the sofa. “Over the arm, sweetheart.”
Maybe she was just as eager for this as he was, because she did what he asked without arguing. Or maybe she was finally done with arguing.
“Are we fucking, or are you going to frame it?”
Ryan laughed as he realized he’d been staring absently at her naked ass. “I’m thinking.”
She reached behind her and cupped his erection. “Think harder.”
Hissing, he pulled down his zipper, pulling his cock out for her to stroke. “Fuck. Touch me, please.”
Glory turned, kneeling for him, sucking him into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth. He closed his eyes, trying desperately not to come as she languidly stroked her tongue up and down his length.
As much as he loved the feel of her lips wrapped around his cock, he was going to have to put an end to it soon. Just as he thought to move away, Glory swooped down, taking almost his whole length into her mouth.
“Shit.” Ryan backed up, his cock sliding out of her mouth with a pop. He gripped the base and prayed like he’d never prayed before. He had to make her come at least one more time, and he intended to do it by marking her again. “Over the sofa.”
With lazy grace she draped herself over the arm of his sofa. “Too hard?”
He snorted. He hadn’t forgotten their game. “Better than too soft.”
She giggled, spreading her legs farther apart when he gently nudged at her feet. “Will it be too big?”
He smacked her ass cheek, making sure not to hurt her. He knew his strength, how to temper it, and wouldn’t intentionally hurt her for the world.
Still, the sound was loud, startling, and she went up on her toes. Wide-eyed, she glared at him over her shoulder. “Fuck you.”
“Okay.” And before she could move away Ryan slid inside her until his thighs touched hers.
She was laughing, her shoulders shaking. “You suck.”
“Yup, I do.” He started moving, the urgency not as intense, the need tempered by affection for his quirky mate.
He leaned over, bracing himself on the arm of the sofa, hands on either side of her head. He licked the mating mark, groaning as she clenched around him. “Again.” He nipped the mark, letting her feel his teeth. “And again.” He dragged his fangs over it, smiling when she bucked under him.
Her voice was breathless, her body trembling. She needed as much as he did, so Ryan began to truly move, keeping his thrusts deep and long. He wanted to feel all of her, the slide and drag of skin on skin, the feel of her beneath his teeth drugging his senses. Her scent flooded him, mingled with their desire until he felt drunk.
She was so much smaller than he was, so much stronger than anyone gave her credit for. But Ryan understood, and gave her what she needed. For all that her tiny frame was under his, held down by him, she was in charge.
Ryan began moving with such force the couch began to slide across the carpet.
“Yesss.” She hissed, her head thrown back, her curls sliding around, tempting to him grab hold. Her nails bit into his sofa, morphing to claws, ripping the leather in her passion. “More. Fuck, more, Rye.”