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Her eyes closed, and her head tipped back as a keening cry spilled from her lips. CHAPTER TEN
Matthias licked at delicate, creamy flesh, humming his pleasure in a long, low rumble. She tasted better
than honey, better than sweet cream. The luscious juices spilling from her pussy were tinged with spice and spiked with pure sweet fire.
His hands kneaded her ass. Sweet delicate curves that clenched beneath his fingers as she lifted to him without reservation. And he accepted. He ate her with a greed he didn't believe was possible, terrified he couldn't get enough of the sweet, addictive juices spilling to his lips and tongue. Stretching out along the bed between her thighs, he lifted her closer, staring up at her absorbed expression as slowly, so slowly he pushed his tongue into the gripping, spasming channel he had dreamed of.
Her pussy was like silk. It flexed around his tongue as she cried out again, her hands clenching in his hair, pulling him closer.
Matthias could feel the hormone spilling from his tongue into the sweet depths of her cunt. The potency of the taste was diluted by the sweet juices he sipped from her. He rimmed the opening, lapped at it like the favored treat it would now become. He could eat her for hours and never get enough. Lick her forever and die with the hunger beating at his soul.
"Oh yes," her trembling voice speared through his senses. "Oh, Matthias, it's so good. " She stretched beneath him, arching closer, as her hips worked her pussy onto his tongue. His cock throbbed, the pre-cum spurting from it to the blankets beneath him. He wasn't ready to fuck her yet, he thought desperately. Not yet. He had waited his entire life for this moment. For that one perfect moment, when touch, taste, moans, and whispered passions came into sync. Everything melded together with Grace. Her taste was perfect. There was no scent of promiscuity, no taste of another who had gone before him. The Breed sense of smell and taste was often too good. But with Grace, there was only the sweet, heated taste of her woman's passion. Slick, silken, her juices clung to his lips, to his tongue, as he slowly drew back from her. Swollen glistening folds of flesh drew his gaze. Silken damp curls, ruby red, passion flushed, her pussy lured him. He licked again, hearing her cry, then drew back to gaze at the slickness again. Had any woman ever been so wet for him? He knew there hadn't been. Only Grace. Farther up, her clit was swollen, fully exposed and flushed with need. He reach out with his tongue, curling around it and groaning at the taste of it.
Grace jerked, and more of her juices spilled from her.
He needed more. A rumbled growl fell from his lips, as his tongue pierced her core again, and he allowed the tip of his nose to caress the hard nub of her clit.
"Oh, God, Matthias. " She never called him Matt. He liked that. He wasn't a Matt. He was Matthias. It was the name he had chose for himself, the name he preferred, and she never used anything else.
"Yes. " She stretched beneath him again, her hips rolling, pressing his tongue deeper inside the clenching muscles of her cunt. "Lick me there. Right there. "
She was vocal. He liked the sounds of her passion, the feel of it. And he liked knowing she enjoyed his tongue. He licked as she pleaded, caressing into tender tissue as she gasped then cried out for more.
"Your taste," he groaned as he pulled back, licked the outer folds once again, and then caught the spill of sweet liquid from the opening of her pussy. "So sweet, Grace. Your pussy is like nectar. Soft and sweet and addictive. "
He lifted his head again, his tongue curling around her clit, as he pressed two fingers inside the grasping depths of her pussy.
She was shaking in his arms, shuddering. Each muscle of her body was drawn tight, and her pussy was so snug he was suddenly thankful for the unique hormones that would prepare her for him. He couldn't hurt her, the thought of hurting her destroyed him.
"Matthias. Oh God, Matthias, what you do to me," she cried out hoarsely, as he drew her clit into his mouth.
She was close to orgasm. He could feel it pounding in her clit, in the tender muscles of her pussy and knew within seconds she would explode beneath him. He wanted it. He needed it. Sex had never been like this. This hot, this desperate. The need for her pleasure overriding the need even for his own. When it came, growls tore from his own chest. Her clitoris, that delicate little nub of flesh expanded, swelled further, and the sweetest taste fell from it, as he felt her vagina tighten and pulse forth more of her slick juices.
The taste of her clitoral response was incredible. Slight. Fresh. New. As though no other man had drawn it forth before.
She was screaming his name. He could hear it, distantly, feel it vibrating through his soul, as this unique taste tempted his tongue. And Matthias knew he would never be satisfied, never be tempted to taste another woman again. Because nothing could ever be this good again.
***
GRACE couldn't breathe, she couldn't draw enough oxygen into her lungs, couldn't seem to find the instinct to force it in, as everything, conscious and subconscious, centered on the orgasm imploding inside her.
She shook her head desperately, fighting for air, but she couldn't get enough. Her eyes opened wide, her chest straining as the resulting panic caused the breath to still in her chest. She had warned him. Overexcitement. It happened every time.
"Easy, Grace. " Matthias came over her, holding himself above her, one hand easing from her stomach to between her breasts with a gentle, caressing movement. "It's okay, my love. Slow and easy. "
"Matthias," she gasped, feeling his fingers lower to massage her diaphragm.
"It's okay, Grace," he soothed her tenderly, his lips lowering to her neck and pressing against the flesh there in a soft, heated kiss. "Relax, love. It will ease. " Her hands were clenched in his hair, tight. It had to be hurting, but there was no strain in his voice, no attempt to loosen them.
"You're so sweet, so responsive," he whispered deeply. "I won't let you come to harm. I swear it. " His palm eased the horrible tightness, relaxing her, making breathing easier. As she drew sweet, clear air into her lungs, her breath caught again.
Oh God. His cock was poised at the entrance to her vagina, parting her folds, thick and hard. The shudders that raced through his body coincided with each, deep spurt of heated fluid that erupted from it. She could feel it heating her inner flesh, doing something so odd, relaxing it, yet sensitizing it further.
"What ?" She stared back at him in shock.
"It's preseminal fluid," he groaned in her ear. "Hormonal. It eases the tender flesh inside, makes penetration easier. Sweet God, Grace. " He shuddered. "I need you now. Now . " His lips lowered to her shoulder, as he began to ease inside her.
The pressure, the heat, was incredible. White hot tingles filled her pussy, causing her to lift to him, desperate to still the little fingers of sensation that dug into her muscles. He stretched her. Then stretched her more. She could feel her flesh parting, burning with a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Or was it pain so intense it merged with pleasure?
