Hour of the Lion by Cherise Sinclair (reading a book txt) 📕

His eyebrows rose at the knife she wore strapped on one calf. Then, he efficiently stripped it off along with the rest of her clothes.

She was naked before she knew it. Giving a short laugh, she murmured, "I do love competent people." But that made her think of other things. "I‘m on birth control and tested recently. You?"

He frowned for a second as if not understanding, then shook his head. "No diseases."

Feeling too exposed under his intent gaze, she pulled him down to cover her like a massive muscular quilt. He moved slightly, and his cock settled between her thighs, the head teasing her folds. Oh yes.

He nibbled on her lips and then took her mouth, his lips firm, his tongue wicked.

She kissed him back, threading her hands through his thick hair, holding his head while she sampled him. She traced a finger over the tiny ridged scar on his cheekbone before biting his jaw. His skin tasted of salt and man and a shiver ran up her spine.

He hummed when she kissed his corded neck. His back muscles tightened into granite when she licked the hollow above his collarbone. God, she wanted to just rub herself against him.

Instead, she ran a hand down his flank and grasped his cock.

He slowly pulled away and sat back on his haunches.

Startled, she pushed up on one elbow. "What? You‘re stopping?"

A dimple appeared with his slow smile. "My momma taught me to savor my desserts." His eyes were like molten heat stroking across her body; his hands followed. His fingertips ran over her collarbone, her shoulder. He paused, and in the dim light, she saw his eyes narrow as he traced the shiny scars from Lachlan‘s bite. His gaze on her body, he unerringly found each remnant of past battles: right bicep and forearm, knife scars; left thigh, shrapnel; left hip, bullet.

How well did he see in the dark anyway? Her muscles tightened. Would he ask—?

"You‘ve had a rough life, sweetheart," he said before nuzzling each scar gently. She relaxed, worry replaced by something…softer, an unfamiliar feeling as tender as his lips.

Then, with a sinful smile, he started to explore anew. Her stomach muscles quivered at his light touch. He traced a line up between her breasts, circling each mound with teasing fingers...circling until her skin felt needy. Hungry. Her nipples bunched, aching for more. When his lips finally closed on one peak, electricity arced straight to her pussy, and she gasped for air, arching off the cushions.

His mouth on her breast was hot, his tongue hard and ravenous, teasing unmercifully. His hand possessed her other breast, and the deluge of sensations sent her senses whirling. Her fingers clenched in his hair—probably painfully—to pull him closer, and she couldn‘t seem to release her hold. His scent wrapped around her, a sunlit forest, pine trees. Male. Very male.

Her hips rose, rubbing her pelvis against him as she ached with emptiness. "Alec—please—

" Her legs parted, inviting him in.

"Ah, I might have known you‘d get all urgent on me." One big hand stroked down her inner thigh, pushing between her legs. Yes. Now. Her insides quaked in anticipation of a hard, fast hammering.

To her surprise, he moved back and kissed his way down her body. A bite for her stomach that made her squeak. His tongue circled her belly button. His breath puffed hot against her pelvis. There he settled. He grasped her thighs, pushing her legs apart, and opening her fully to his gaze. "Oh, yes," he murmured. Bending his head, he nibbled on the tender skin of her inner thigh.

The muscles in her legs tightened uncontrollably, and her hands curled into fists in his hair.

No. She‘d done this before, and she didn‘t want this. Fast hard sex, that‘s all she wanted, sex where she could control how much she felt. Not this way, lying before him so exposed...so intimate. "No, Alec." She tugged on him. "I want you inside me. Now, dammit."

"Not just yet, baby," he murmured.

When she tried to close her legs, his broad shoulders kept her thighs spread. His head lifted, and he studied her as if he saw more, much more, than she wanted him to see. As if he could see her fear as well as her arousal.

His steady gaze released her, and he kissed between her hip and pussy. "Don‘t worry so much, Vixen. This is making love, not war." His fingers pressed her folds completely open, and she felt cool air touch her, the slight rasp of his stubbled cheek, and then his tongue slid lightly, tenderly over her sensitive skin. She moaned, her vision blurring, and her legs falling open.

When he nibbled and tongued her inner folds, she tensed even as her hips pressed upward for more. "Alec—"

He gave a growling laugh and nipped her thigh. A wave of heat hit her and her head dropped back. God, it was too much, felt too good. She was losing control; her mind drowning in the surging of her body. In the determined gentleness of his touch.

The heat of his tongue circling her clit made her moan. She felt swollen down there, too tight. Burning for more. And then one hard finger eased inside her. She gasped as nerves wakened within her. His thick knuckle rubbed against her opening, sending sensation unfurling.

She couldn‘t catch her breath as her hips jerked with every slide of his finger, of his tongue.

His finger stroked her inside; outside, his tongue never left her clitoris, circling the spot, never touching the top.

Her whole world wavered, tightening, tightening, suspended in the black space of need.

And then his lips closed over her and he...sucked. His tongue slid over her clit, the very top, and a grenade of sensation turned the room white and blew her to pieces.

His vixen was a screamer, Alec thought as she spasmed around his finger, her hips bucking against his face. Under his tongue, her clit softened, and he teased