Page 48 of Ice Rebel

“Oh, shit.” Her body swung forward, pitching back and forth as if she would fall off the other side. Not a chance in hell. If she thought I’d let her go, she had another think coming.

My hold was tighter, but there was no desire to concentrate on holding her. I was too busy trying to make her come.

I enjoyed the taste of her, but my main goal was having her explode inside my mouth. And I couldn’t wait to hear her scream, hopefully my name. Wait. She didn’t know my name.

The thought was close to being the funniest damn thing I’d heard in a long time. Of all the names for her to be screaming. I guess it could be worse.

She shifted back and forth, which slickened my entire face. Her aroma alone was keeping me hard as a rock, but being able to thrust my tongue all the way inside was phenomenal.

“Oh, you are crazy. You are such a bad boy.” She was still shaking, her arms flailing.

I continued licking, able to use my thumbs to keep her tight little clit swollen and aching. She’d teased me enough she deserved to feel a little of the pain. What fun would the gain be without it?

With a deep groan, she fisted her face with both hands, tossing her head toward the ceiling. There was something adorable about her body quivering while in my hold. Maybe just seeing how nervous she was had an even more sinful effect.

When she settled down, lowering her arms behind her, I sensed she was turning a corner. She rocked against my face, controlling her breathing while still labored. Wait. Was she humming? I believe she was. Whatever the tune, the rhythm was perfect with my tongue assault.

“Oh, yes. Mmm…” She rubbed the fingers of one hand down her neck and the way she tossed her head from side to side kept my gaze locked on her. What would she do next?

Rock even harder. That was her answer and she could have no idea what she was doing to me. I wasn’t about to allow her to have control even though her body was bucking to the point the headboard was finally hitting the wall.

Damn if this wasn’t the hottest sexual experience I’d ever had.

I could tell the moment, the very second she’d reached the point of no return. Her breathing was little more than polite pants and her sweaty palms were smashed against my chest with her fingernails digging into my skin. I had a feeling I’d be bruised and marked in the morning.

Something to brag about with the guys and with no need to worry about exposing her real identity either. The clever wench had no intentions of indulging me with her real name. I licked furiously, pumping her up and down while using my tongue as a piston.

She became wilder, tossing her hair while shaking more violently. I’d be damned if her actions didn’t increase my heartrate.

As her body began to slow, she threw her head back and gripped my legs. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” I’d never had a woman react so violently and the sound of her voice alone kept me on fire, licking her furiously as her juice slipped into my throat.

The taste of her was even better than before, sweeter, tangier. Utter perfection. I continued licking until she was finally at the point of calming down. As she slowly collapsed on top of me, something happened, the comforter slipping from our actions and suddenly, we were dumped onto the floor.

Legs and arms entwined. My body crushing hers. The slight thud brought a gasp from her throat before we both burst into laughter. We were also tangled in the bedding.

We were both still laughing a full two minutes later, but it finally slowed until the sound disappeared. With both of us still breathing hard, she licked her lips, daring to dart her eyes down my chest.

This time the subtle sound she made was a return to her nervousness. She tentatively reached out, pressing her fingertips against my chest. The touch was so damn electric I sucked in and held my breath.

She gathered more confidence, rubbing her fingers down to my abdomen, even tracing my muscles. “I didn’t know an eight-pack ab existed.”

“Well, I’m a different kind of man.” I wasn’t. I was one red-blooded all-American boy who just happened to be enhanced by having wolf DNA trapped inside my genetic code. Maybe she knew that. Maybe she didn’t. It wasn’t unusual for girls to desire hooking up for the single most ridiculous rumor I’d heard since the acknowledgment of our existence.

The rumor we had two dicks instead of one. When that had proven to be false, we’d been wrapped up in determined lies about twenty-inch penises. Yeah, I wasn’t Long Dong Silver. But I held my own.

Evidently, I pleased the gorgeous chick in front of me. I could tell by how her eyes opened wide when she wrapped her fingers around the widest section.

“Well, then,” she muttered. Maybe I’d underestimated myself. Her fingertips didn’t touch.

Bragging rights.

I was thoroughly involved in allowing her to enjoy herself, but when she squeezed those same fingers, I was already breathing heavy while attempting to control my beast. He was a fickle boy, acting as if he was more than content to lurk in the background.

Until he wasn’t.

Which was why when she squeezed the tip and sighed, I fisted both my hands to keep from touching her. Or stopping her. She slowly lifted her head until our eyes locked. Without needing direction from the other, we untangled ourselves from the covers and rose onto our knees.

Five seconds of staring at each other was all either one could take. I don’t know who jerked who closer, but our lips smashed together and all bets were off. We were like frenzied animals pawing at each other. Our tongues entwining, the heat between us rising. At this point, we’d become overwhelmed from heat exhaustion.