Page 10

I lift her on the kitchen table, shove her thighs apart with my hips and kiss her the way I apparently needed to kiss my whole life without knowing it. Deep, slow, wet, with my hand in her braids, tilting her head back so I can get my tongue as far into her mouth as it’ll go.

“Rowan,” she breathes when I let her up for air.

I didn’t even have a name this morning. Now it’s in her mouth, sounding like that, and I’m about ready to carve it into every tree in the forest so she has to read it over and over.

I drag my mouth down her throat, and fuck, the smell of her. Honey, beeswax, warm skin, and under it, something hot and wet that goes straight to my cock. I’ve been smelling it since the toy shop. I smelled it the entire walk home while those nosy villagers stared. It got stronger and stronger, and I came real close to throwing a man and his cow into a ditch.

I pull back to look at her. Sexy lips, swollen. Braids sliding loose out of their tie. Dress hanging off one shoulder, her ample chest heaving, pretty brown eyes huge. Fucking magnificent.

The prettiest thing that ever happened in this land, and I’ve seen a lot of sunrises.

“Hattie,” I rumble. “I’ve been smelling your pussy since the toy shop, I need my mouth on it.”

Her lips part. Then she grabs my wrists and pushes my hands up under her dress herself.

And moans, “Please”.

Holy fuck.

I drag her underwear down her legs. It’s soaked through, and when I toss it over my shoulder, she makes a little sound that I’m going to keep in my head until the sun burns out. Then I’m on my knees on her kitchen floor, shoving her dress up to her waist.

And I just… look.

Thick brown thighs, shiny, wet. Dark curls. Her pussy swollen and dripping on the table. My mouth waters.

“Rowan,” she whispers. “You’re staring.”

“I’m memorizing.”

“Oh, my God.”

I throw her knees over my shoulders and bury my face in her.

She yells. Not a moan, but a full yell, and her heel kicks the bread off the table and sends it rolling across the floor. The taste of her hits me, and I swear to God, I feel it in the roots I don’t have anymore.

Honey, but better. Sweet, thick, and warm, and something under it that’s just her, salty and rich. I’ve tasted two things in my life; they were both her, and I already know I’m never tasting anything else. Fuck food. That bread can stay on the floor.

I lick her slow, flat, and greedy, all the way up, and her whole body jerks. Then I do it again, and again, while she’s grabbing at the table, gasping, and it takes me a second to realize she’s talking.

“Your tongue… Rowan… is it… does it have grain?”

I drag it up over her clit, slow, so she can feel every ridge of it.

“Oh, my God.”

Mother Wren takes her work very seriously.

I’m not gentle about it. I don’t know how to be, not with this. I eat her like I’ve been starving my whole life, which, looking back, I guess I was. I suck on her clit, fuck her with my tongue, lick up every drop she gives me. She grabs a fistful of my hair and grinds her pussy on my face until I can barely breathe.

Go ahead, sweetheart. Best way I could go. Way better than a storm.

I slide a finger inside her, and holy shit, she’s tight. Tight, hot, and slick, squeezing down on me so hard my whole arm tingles. I curl my finger and stroke a soft, swollen spot I find inside her, and her thighs start shaking against my ears.

“Rowan… I’m gonna… I’m…”

“Go on,” I growl into her. “Show them how it’s done.”

I suck her clit hard, and she comes so hard her heel knocks the salt jar clean off the table.