Gena Showalter - Alien Huntress 3 by Savor Me Slowly

Gena Showalter - Alien Huntress 3 by Savor Me Slowly

Author:Savor Me Slowly [Slowly, Savor Me]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-10-12T20:46:43+00:00

“I wish you hadn’t been hurt.” Leaning forward, Jaxon laved his tongue over each ridge of her spine, might even have traced some of the petals. The hot, wet heat against her skin acted as another brand, leaving an invisible tattoo: Jaxon’s woman.

He kissed her neck; he kneaded her ass. He whispered all the things he wanted to do to her in her ear, told her how beautiful she was, how strong, how sweet, how he was going to bury his cock deep inside her.

Soon she was writhing again. Soon she was desperate for him again.

“Raise to your hands and knees for me.”

Without question, she lifted. He gripped her hips, pulling her against him so that his chest pressed into her back. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. It might kill me, but I’ll stop.” His erection pressed into her. Not sinking, not yet. One of his hands snaked around her and dipped into her core.

Oh, God. “Don’t stop.”

In…farther and farther, so slowly, he sank into her. She was so wet it was an incredible glide.

“Damn, you feel good.”

He reached the hilt, and she moaned. He felt amazing. He filled her completely, stretching her deliciously. Without the condom, it was like being caressed by velvet-covered steel. More, she wanted more.

When his fingers circled her clitoris, taking her a step closer to that satisfaction, she moaned.

And moaned. And moaned.

“Next time I’m going to sink inside you deep and hard, pounding.” Every word was spoken with a gentle, torturous slide. “I’m going to have your legs on my shoulders and I’m going to work my dick until you’re screaming my name.”

Everything he said, she pictured in her mind. Him, over her, straining. Her, lost in the bliss of his body. Just like that, she tumbled over the edge a second time. Her core clamped around his cock, her back arched.

He continued to work her, prolonging her orgasm and intensifying it another degree. Just like he’d wanted, she screamed his name over and over again, unable to stop herself. So good, so good. He never increased his rhythm, only dragged the pleasure out for a wondrous eternity.

“Mishka,” he gritted. And then he roared, hot seed jetting inside her. His arms tightened around her, locking her close. His warm breath panted over her neck. “Mine,” he said. “Mine.” CHAPTER 13

Jaxon traced a fingertip over Mishka’s tattooed spine. He’d never been one to linger after the pleasure was sated, but this time, with this woman, he wanted to stay. Could think of no place else he’d rather be.

All of his protective instincts were engaged, his sense of indignity on her behalf sharpened to a razor point. Surely that explained his softening toward her. Surely that explained his need to hold her and never let go. His need to guard her from the demons that plagued her. His need to move her into his home. Surely that, and not love. Because Jaxon didn’t do love.

Love complicated things, made a person accountable for the other’s thoughts, emotions, and suicide attempts.



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