Page 85 of Specter Bred

My tongue traced her slit slowly at first, determined to savor something I’d spent months convinced I would never get anywhere near. When I pushed deeper, her thighs tightened around my head, and the little sound that escaped her nearly made me lose whatever restraint I had left.

Her hips began moving. Just a little at first, almost instinctively, following my mouth whenever I pulled away before pressing closer when my tongue returned.

Then Maeve apparently remembered she was Maeve.

Her hands found my hair, and she took over completely. Her hips rolled against my mouth in a slow, demanding rhythm, and I fucking loved it. Of course she would ride my face like she approached everything else in life.

Like she intended to conquer it.

I gripped her thighs, holding her against me as she grew wetter beneath my tongue. Every roll of her hips dragged her over my mouth until I was drowning in her, and when my tongue found her clit, Maeve’s entire body reacted.

Her thighs clenched.

Her fingers tightened in my hair.

And then she cried out.

"Fuck!"

I flicked my tongue against her again just to hear it.

Maeve’s hips jerked and another broken sound escaped her.

Well, damn. Apparently, I had discovered a button. And Boy Scouts were nothing if not thorough, so I pressed it again.

I worked my tongue faster, following every tiny reaction she gave me until her movements became rougher and that iron control she carried around like armor finally started cracking.

“Do. Not. Fucking. Stop,” she ordered.

The command came out between ragged breaths, each word punctuated by another demanding roll of her hips.

As if I fucking would.

I could barely breathe with her thighs tightening around my head, and my cock was so hard it bordered on painful, but I didn’t give a single damn. My own release could wait. Right now, the only thing I wanted was to make Maeve Archer cry out and come against my mouth.

So I kept going.

I held her tighter, followed every movement of her hips, and gave her exactly what she demanded until the first shudder tore through her.

Then another.

And finally, Maeve unraveled.

Her entire body seized above me as her orgasm hit hard, her thighs clamping around my head while she rode out every wave against my mouth without an ounce of restraint. I held on and let her use me exactly how she wanted, greedily taking everything she gave me.

Fuck, she tasted good.

I could barely breathe, but if this was how I died, smothered between Maeve Archer’s thighs while she came on my face, I wasn’t entirely convinced anyone needed to rescue me.

Hell, put something patriotic on my tombstone and call it a service-related death.

As her body continued trembling through the aftershocks, the last scraps of my own control finally gave out. My hand reached between my legs, and it barely took three pumps before months of wanting her caught up with me all at once.

My release hit like a freight train.

A groan ripped from my chest as every muscle in my body went taut before collapsing into the mattress beneath her.

For several seconds, neither of us moved. Mostly because I was pretty sure I’d just seen God. Eventually, Maeve shifted enough to look down at me.