Page 25 of Ice Devil

I was instantly rewarded with him nudging my legs apart then pressing his face against my damp panties.

Oh, shit, the sensations rocketing through me were insane. I jutted my hips forward while wrapping one arm around his head.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” he asked the question as if it had already come up.

“No. What?”

“I’m going to throw you down on that bed and hate fuck you until you scream my name, surrendering to me fully and completely.”

“I didn’t realize we hated each other.”

He drove his fingers through the lace, ripping my thong. “Now?”

“Okay, I hate you. These were my special undies.” Oh, my God. When he pulled my clit into his mouth, I was no longer certain I could stand. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to feel my legs any longer. He sucked on my tender bud for a few seconds, long enough I was whimpering while clawing the skin on his arms.

“Good. There’s nothing better than makeup sex.” Using his teeth, he ripped a chunk of the thong away, spitting it out so he could create a larger hole. My God, the man was insatiable. When he thrust his thick fingers into my pussy, I could no longer breathe.

I grabbed a handful of his hair, my body rocking as he pumped his fingers inside. There was something about the protective feel of having a man’s powerful arms wrapped around you. And in this case with having a man’s fingers buried deep in my cunt while tormenting my clit. Just when I was ready to break my promise of not begging him, he slipped his fingers under the lace of my panties. With one sharp cracking sound, he ripped them free of my body.

Now I was standing entirely naked in front of a man who, up until the plane flight to Arizona, I’d only seen in newspaper articles. If I’d known I’d be allowing the very same man to feast on my pussy, maybe I would have worn matching underwear.

My bad.

This was all so intoxicating, making me forget what I was doing here in the first place.

No, this was something I’d considered madness when hearing stories of others doing the same thing.

He was a complete stranger and this was… wrong.

But so right.

As he gripped my thighs, I ran my fingers through his hair. So thick in its obsidian darkness. He was a beautiful creature through and through and with his face buried in my wetness, I couldn’t avoid the dreamy state falling over me.

My subdued moans mixed with his more savage growls, a reminder that not all men were created equal. Maybe I was drunk on the combination of the man, his scent, and the two drinks. Or maybe I’d tossed my common sense out the window along with my inhibitions.

He plunged his tongue alongside his fingers, moving at a perfect rhythm. I was rocking against him, every inch of my body quivering. He was as perfect at eating pussy as he was with keeping an opposing team from scoring. I knew which attribute was my favorite.

Still with bleary eyes, I was close to humming as he brought me closer to a sweeping orgasm before pulling away.

His mouth and tongue became dangerous weapons, tormenting me to the point I was shaking all over. When I dropped my head, I sensed he was watching my every move, using my reaction to learn how to drive me insane.

The moment was a wild rollercoaster as an orgasm finally swept through me. He didn’t stop, driving his tongue and fingers in as deep as allowed. Everything about the moment was exciting, including the guttural sounds he made.

Beck held me fast, refusing to let me go even though I was already drained, more sensitive than I could remember ever being. The effect was incredible, goosebumps popping along every inch of skin.

The way he took his time, pressing kisses along the inside of one thigh then the other kept me in a sweet level of euphoria. I lolled my head, enjoying the moment while trying to control my breathing.

Very slowly he stood, moving away from me.

I’d noticed earlier because I would have been blind not to that he was the kind of man who should wear jeans. Tight, faded blue jeans. The kind that had seen better days, knees worn to the point that with any wash, holes would finally appear. I could easily envision the frayed edges hugging his kneecaps when he bent down, maybe starting a fire or working on building a deck.

He was that kind of rugged, all male in every way. And the way his butt filled out the seat was incredible. I’d heard the expression why God had made man. In my mind, it was why Levi Strauss had invented jeans.

For a rocking hot male with a killer body.

My mouth was already watering by the time he unzipped them, peeling away the two sides. Of course, he was tormenting me, taking his time in finishing undressing.

But I was fine with that. I had nowhere to go early in the morning. I could indulge in wanton sin all night long if I wanted.