Caribou's Gift
the hardness of his body, and the evidence of his erection. There was no doubting his desire, their desire. Their passion…
    She raked her fingers through his hair, scratching and tugging, her breath a hot pant, which he inhaled. He hoisted her so she leaned against the wall, his strength a part of him, effortless and so sexy. With his lower body, he pinned hers, rubbing and holding her in place, leaving his hands free to roam. And roam they did while his mouth plundered hers, drawing an aching desire forth.
    Touch me, she wanted to moan, but she was past coherent speech, caught in the sensations of the moment.
    But he didn’t need telling. His fingers found the edge of her shirt and slid under, the rough tips a gentle abrasion on her skin. Feathering touches tickled a path over her ribcage to her fettered breasts. He didn’t let the cotton cup deter him.
    Nothing screamed sexy like a plain white athletic bra. It didn’t seem to bother him. His thumb stroked over the straining peak, the barrier of fabric a sensual layer that only made the moment he shoved it upward, baring her breast, all the more exciting.
    She sucked in a breath as he brushed his calloused finger over her nub. Again and again, he rubbed then pinched, which made her gasp. How could the tease of her nipple bring such erotic pleasure to her sex? Who cared? A shudder went through her as he once again squeezed.
    And then he stopped. No. If she had the breath, she would have protested out loud.
    He shifted her body, pushing her higher on the wall, which meant his lips moved out of reach of her own, but that was only because he apparently had another location he needed to explore.
    “Kyle.” His name whispered out of her as his hot mouth latched on to her nipple. He sucked and twirled his agile tongue around the tip. Each tug, each suck, sent a jab of heat to her sex.
    First one breast then the other. He took his time with each, exploring and teasing them as all the blood in her body boiled, all her nerve endings coiled, and her panties grew wetter and wetter.
    His lips finally left both of her peaks, not that it stopped their throbbing. His mouth traced a path down her belly until it reached the button on her pants.
    She didn’t see how he did it, but somehow he managed to get them undone, parted, and he kissed the top of her mound through her panties—more industrial cotton, which didn’t stop his sensual seduction.
    Or would it?
    When he lowered her, setting her on the floor, she almost cried out, but his lips caught hers. And then she didn’t mind because it seemed he had a reason to set her free, namely so he could shimmy her out of her pants and tear her panties from her.
    One rip. One sexy rip of fabric to expose her to him.
    Utterly sexy.
    Bared to his touch, he wasted no time and cupped her. Cupped her moist sex with his hand while he sucked at her tongue.
    She almost came.
    “I’m going to taste you, Crystal,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’m going to lick you until you come.”
    What sane woman wouldn’t react to those words?
    Hell, she practically came. She most certainly shivered and shuddered. She cried out and clamped down on her peaking pleasure when he dropped to his knees and nuzzled her. Her sex clenched tight as his hands parted her thighs, and she felt the warm brush of his breath against her throbbing pussy.
    At his first lick, she almost collapsed, but his hands caught her, held her, made her submit to the decadent torture of his tongue. Sweet, pleasurable, erotic torture.
    It didn’t take long. The wet and warm licks and sucks of his mouth teased already throbbing flesh. When he flicked the tip of his tongue against her clit, she was a goner.
    Only by biting her lip did she manage to keep herself from crying out. But oh how she longed to shout his name. To scream it to the world.
    Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her as he refused to relent in his sensual enjoyment of her sex.
    Finally, she could take no

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