Read Online The Omega Team: Hot Rod (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Sabrina York - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sabrina York
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touched her. With his tongue. And her body jerked. “No, Matt. Please.”
“Mmm,” he murmured against her weeping flesh. “I’ll please you.”
When he drew her clit between his lips and sucked, she had an out-of-body experience. The pleasure was so intense she suspected she actually elevated off the ground.
But before she could process that, he slipped a thick and long finger inside, and then two, easing deep while he suckled her clit. He hit a spot, one that stole her breath and made rivulets of shivers dance on every nerve. Total bliss filled her and she swamped him with her release.
It seemed to go on forever—probably because he continued to goad her higher and higher. By the time it was done, she was a wad, a limp noodle staring up at him through a glorious fog.
“Do you still want me to fuck you?” he asked in a prim tone.
His sarcasm roused her. She yanked down his skivvies and took hold of his cock in a death drip that made his eyes cross.
“You goddamn better, Hot Rod,” she snapped. “And you better do it now.”
Oh, good lord in heaven above.
She was perfect.
Wild, untamed and bold. Willing to give as good as she got, meeting him on even ground at every turn.
He was so aroused, he almost forgot the condom. As it was, she didn’t seem inclined to let him go, not even the couple feet to his pack. His body was humming with anticipation that had only been stoked by her beautiful climax. She’d been so magnificent in her passion, so perfect. He’d been swamped by an odd sense of déjà vu , as though they’d been lovers before, forever perhaps, and they would be until the end of time.
But he hardly had the fortitude to study these feelings, not with his Vixen lying there, bare and ready for him.
God knew, he was ready for her.
His fingers shook as he rolled on the condom, but probably because he had his gaze locked with hers and that made the blaze in his belly flare. He positioned himself over her and at her entrance and then whispered, “Are you ready?”
Her response was unequivocal. She buried her nails in his ass and pulled him closer. “Now,” she panted.
It would be rude to wait.
But who the hell cared about sex etiquette in a moment like this? A savage need drove him, drove him in. Hard and deep.
She welcomed him, enveloped him, caressed him; his groan came forth from the well of his soul as he sank home. Perfect. She was perfect.
He wanted to stay there within her hold forever, but his instincts screamed for more. Also Vixen was impatient. When he held still longer than she though necessary, she smacked his ass.
It shocked him—he hadn’t been expecting it—and he reared up and stared at her.
“What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?”
Her attitude nudged at his. Really? She thought to command him? To be contrary, he grinned at her and wiggled around and said, “But this feels so good.”
She frowned at him and gave him a purple-nurple. “Does this feel good?”
He winked. “Kind of.”
And yeah. She wasn’t amused. He could see the annoyance flash over her face. But then she softened. And she smiled. Batted her lashes. The innocence in her expression made a shiver crawl up his spine.
“How about this?”
Then she did something, something with her muscles, some kind of undulating movement deep inside that clutched his cock in a ripple of agony and freaking heaven. He caught his breath. Against his will, his hips twitched. The urge to pound into her, possess her, fill her, rose.
She stared up at him with a languorous expression on her face, opened her legs wider and moaned, all while doing that thing again.
And he lost it.
He took her hips in a tight hold, just for leverage, and he went wild.
He fucked her and he fucked her ferociously.
One manic plunge after the other, sinking deep, hitting hard.
Her response was gratifying. She clutched at him, inside and out, scratched at his back, bit at his neck and wailed into his ear.
Their
“Mmm,” he murmured against her weeping flesh. “I’ll please you.”
When he drew her clit between his lips and sucked, she had an out-of-body experience. The pleasure was so intense she suspected she actually elevated off the ground.
But before she could process that, he slipped a thick and long finger inside, and then two, easing deep while he suckled her clit. He hit a spot, one that stole her breath and made rivulets of shivers dance on every nerve. Total bliss filled her and she swamped him with her release.
It seemed to go on forever—probably because he continued to goad her higher and higher. By the time it was done, she was a wad, a limp noodle staring up at him through a glorious fog.
“Do you still want me to fuck you?” he asked in a prim tone.
His sarcasm roused her. She yanked down his skivvies and took hold of his cock in a death drip that made his eyes cross.
“You goddamn better, Hot Rod,” she snapped. “And you better do it now.”
Oh, good lord in heaven above.
She was perfect.
Wild, untamed and bold. Willing to give as good as she got, meeting him on even ground at every turn.
He was so aroused, he almost forgot the condom. As it was, she didn’t seem inclined to let him go, not even the couple feet to his pack. His body was humming with anticipation that had only been stoked by her beautiful climax. She’d been so magnificent in her passion, so perfect. He’d been swamped by an odd sense of déjà vu , as though they’d been lovers before, forever perhaps, and they would be until the end of time.
But he hardly had the fortitude to study these feelings, not with his Vixen lying there, bare and ready for him.
God knew, he was ready for her.
His fingers shook as he rolled on the condom, but probably because he had his gaze locked with hers and that made the blaze in his belly flare. He positioned himself over her and at her entrance and then whispered, “Are you ready?”
Her response was unequivocal. She buried her nails in his ass and pulled him closer. “Now,” she panted.
It would be rude to wait.
But who the hell cared about sex etiquette in a moment like this? A savage need drove him, drove him in. Hard and deep.
She welcomed him, enveloped him, caressed him; his groan came forth from the well of his soul as he sank home. Perfect. She was perfect.
He wanted to stay there within her hold forever, but his instincts screamed for more. Also Vixen was impatient. When he held still longer than she though necessary, she smacked his ass.
It shocked him—he hadn’t been expecting it—and he reared up and stared at her.
“What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?”
Her attitude nudged at his. Really? She thought to command him? To be contrary, he grinned at her and wiggled around and said, “But this feels so good.”
She frowned at him and gave him a purple-nurple. “Does this feel good?”
He winked. “Kind of.”
And yeah. She wasn’t amused. He could see the annoyance flash over her face. But then she softened. And she smiled. Batted her lashes. The innocence in her expression made a shiver crawl up his spine.
“How about this?”
Then she did something, something with her muscles, some kind of undulating movement deep inside that clutched his cock in a ripple of agony and freaking heaven. He caught his breath. Against his will, his hips twitched. The urge to pound into her, possess her, fill her, rose.
She stared up at him with a languorous expression on her face, opened her legs wider and moaned, all while doing that thing again.
And he lost it.
He took her hips in a tight hold, just for leverage, and he went wild.
He fucked her and he fucked her ferociously.
One manic plunge after the other, sinking deep, hitting hard.
Her response was gratifying. She clutched at him, inside and out, scratched at his back, bit at his neck and wailed into his ear.
Their
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