Python's Embrace (Bitten Point Book 3) (11 page)

“Fuck!” The word burst from him and was swallowed, much like her sex swallowed him.

She nibbled the tip of his chin. “I think fucking is a good idea.”

His reply was a steady, groaning rumble as he began to move his hips. He moved them slowly, too slowly for her level of arousal. In, slow and languorously, letting her feel every inch, then out, a slick retreat that had her sex clutching at him.

No, don’t go.

Back in, the slick friction making her tremble. She clung to him, digging her fingers into his flesh, making a high-pitched, breathless noise.

“So fucking tight and sweet. Hold me tight. I’m going to increase the pace.”

Did he know telling her would just heighten her excitement?

Her legs locked him against her, and since he couldn’t pull out as far, he thrust deeper, butting against her sweet spot. Then he rotated his hips. Swirl, thrust, push, rub. The intensity against her sweet spot put her on the brink. She practically sobbed the pleasure of it.

How perfectly they fit together. A man with size, strength, and, best of all, the ability to use his rigid shaft and stretch her oh so nicely.

“Fill me. Fuck me.” She managed to suck in a breath to huskily beg.

He groaned, the low rumble vibrating her being.

Faster he moved, the thrust of his hips grinding his cock into her.

He was so hard. So thick. So fucking thick.

Even as she came, he remained thick, perfect. Her body exploded against and around him. Waves of utter bliss stormed through her, shaking every atom of her being and then returning to run over her again. And again.

Endless ecstasy as he kept grinding and pushing and…

He came. Fiery hot, he jetted into her, bathing her womb with his seed. Leaving his mark.

The moment proved so utterly perfect, especially when he leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing hot and ragged. She understood the need to recover.

Explosive didn’t even come close to describing the cataclysm of the orgasm. She should note she did remember sex. And that was all it was. Sex. Not this intensely passionate and intimate joining of not just their bodies but, dammit, their souls.

I thought I didn’t believe in that kind of sentimental shit.

Not anymore.

He’s mine.

Her words. No one else’s.

But not everyone agreed.

T
he low
, grumbling growl drew Constantine’s attention away from the glorious after-sex lassitude he indulged in.

Making sweet love to Aria had proved even more incredible than he imagined.

How could any man want to walk away from this?

The question was a good one, but took a backseat to his dog growling. What had his Princess on alert? He didn’t sense any danger. His sixth snake sense didn’t tingle, yet his pup didn’t sound happy.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” As he asked, he firmed his grip around Aria and carried her to the washroom, where a shower sounded like an awesome plan.

A shower with soap, rubbing, and naked skin. Hell, yeah.

Grrr. Ruff.

Princess still didn’t seem happy. Something perturbed her. Constantine stopped short of the bathroom and looked around, checking for signs of danger. Not sensing anything amiss, he peeked down at his dog, who sat at his feet, big eyes staring right at him.

“What is it, baby girl? Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

“She’s jealous, angel. I don’t think your Princess likes to share. And do you know what?” Her lips nuzzled the skin at his neck. “Neither do I.” Chomp.

Aria bit down hard on his skin, so hard he gasped, his cock hardened, and his dog lost her shit barking.

He fell against the bathroom wall with a heavy thud.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Just proving a point. Princess thinks I’m dangerous and wants to take me out,” she whispered with warm breath against his throbbing skin.

“I think Princess is right. You are dangerous. But then again, so am I.” And his dog would have to learn to share him because he wasn’t ditching Aria. “Princess, Daddy needs to take a shower to get clean.”

“Oh no, it will be dirty,” Aria promised.

Fuck. He couldn’t stop his cock from swelling at her words. “Go guard the house. Be a good girl.”

Yip.
With a woebegone look in his direction, Princess slunk out the door, and he might have felt guiltier if he hadn’t caught the dirty look his dog aimed at Aria, but he could understand the glare, given Aria murmured, “I win.”

“No, I win, because now that I’ve got you wrapped in my arms, you can’t escape.”

“Why would I want to?” she asked.

“Because I’m going to do such bad, bad things to you.”

She shivered. “Please do.”

He would. As soon as he got some hot water to sluice them off.

Keeping her tucked against him, where she belonged—
hug her, squeeze her, never let her go—
he
turned on the taps. The hot water tank was just behind the shower, not far, so that meant it didn’t take long for the jetting droplets to warm.

He stood in the tub, putting her back into the hot spray.

She sighed and leaned back into it, exposing the smooth column of her throat, a gesture of trust among predators.

He nuzzled the skin, tempted to leave a mark of his own. But the moment wasn’t quite right.

But I can make it perfect.

He leaned her back, forcing her back to arch, pushing her sweet tits into the air.

Absolutely mouthwatering. He freed one hand that he might run a finger around her breasts, tracing them.

She muttered a husky, “What are you doing?”

“Admiring the view.”

She snorted. “You don’t have to lie.”

“What makes you think I’m lying? Does this feel like I’m lying?” He slid her far enough that she could feel the hard jut of his cock, already raring to go.

Her eyes opened then shut as the shower water got into them. “Ugh,” she exclaimed.

He laughed and turned her, putting her sideways so her head could lean against the tub liner.

It didn’t impede his view. It actually made it easier for him to lean down and grab a tip with his lips.

She gasped, and her fingers clutched at his scalp. “I don’t have big breasts.”

“And?” He bit down on the nipple, causing her to dig her nails in for a delicious bite of pain to offset his mounting need.

“Just saying I don’t have big boobs. Or much of an ass.”

“And again, I say what about it? From my perspective”—suck—“they’re”—squeeze of those cheeks—“perfect.”

And mine.

All mine.

A concept that really was growing on him. Just like she grew on him. Usually, snakes shed unwanted epidermal layers, but this was one time he wanted to wear someone else like a skin. He wanted Aria to wrap herself around him. He also wanted to taste her.

Now.

Like this very instant.

“Brace yourself,” he warned. He set her feet down on the bottom of the tub and made sure she leaned against it. He dropped to his knees before her, letting the weak spray of water hit his shoulders and roll down his back.

As he brought his face level with her mound, he parted her thighs.

A rapidly sucked-in breath drew his attention upward. He noted her watching him, biting her lower lip.

He didn’t need to see her face, though, to smell her arousal. This close to her sex, he could scent it. It tempted him.

He brushed her inner thighs with the rough edge of his beard, scraping the bristles over tender flesh.

A shudder went through her. Another when he nosed at her, rubbing his face against her pubes, inhaling her scent. Her essence.

He imprinted her so that he would never forget.

I’ll never forget.
How could he when she smelled so deliciously woman? So decadent.

He lapped at her, a long, wet swipe of his tongue across her clit.

That brought the grasping fingers to tear at his hair.

Another long lick and she made the most beautiful mewling sound. But her clit was only one treasure to discover.

It took only a swipe of his tongue for her plump, pink lips to part for him. Her honey coated his tongue, drugged him with her arousal. How sweet she tasted. He needed more.

Lapping at her, he probed and teased her sex for a moment before returning to her clit and sucking it.

Captured by the pleasure he lavished upon her, Aria dug her fingers in harder. She clutched him so tight.

Yes, tight. So good.

He wanted to get crushed by her. The more pleasure he gave, the tighter she got.

She also got wild, a little rough, her hips bucking and thrashing.

I like it.

And she liked it when he gripped her hips in his hands, his outdoor-tanned skin against her white flesh a pleasing contrast.

Mine.

Holding her fast, he lashed her with his tongue, and with her ability to buck gone, Aria moaned, loud and often.

When her body began to quiver, he knew he’d taken her as far as he could. She was ready for him.

In a swift motion, he stood. He caught her lips with his, sucking at the moaning passion, swallowing the sound of her pleasure.

His finger probed at the swollen entrance to her sex, thrusting into her, a finger fuck that had them both swaying their hips.

“Turn around for me,” he ordered.

She did better than just that. She turned to face away from him, braced her palms against the wall, and thrust out her little ass.

And he ran into a dilemma. She was too fucking short to do it like that.

Fuck.

She peeked over her shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”

“A step stool to magically appear.” He growled in frustration.

It took her less than a second to grasp the problem, and the minx laughed. “Poor angel. I guess we’ll have to get innovative.”

Apparently, her idea of innovative involved her streaking wet and naked out of the bathroom, leaving laughter and wet drops as a trail.

He followed, his cock leading the way, right to his bedroom, where she had placed herself on hands and knees, legs partially spread, exposed and ready for him.

She tossed him a coy look over her shoulder. “Is this better?”

Since he doubted he could speak coherently at the moment, he simply nodded. With her so temptingly laid out before him, he couldn’t stem his impatience. He knelt on the bed behind her and rubbed the head of his cock against her wet lips. He parted them with his swollen head, watching how her pink core trembled as he kept his cock just out of reach.

He pushed just the head in. The very tip.

A shudder went through her.

“More?” he queried. Despite her claims earlier, he didn’t want to overwhelm her.

“You talk too much,” she grumbled as she thrust backwards. It served to impale him within her sex.

Slick, vise-like heat.

He threw his head back. Feeling the pleasure of being within her. Trying to hold on for just a moment longer but struggling because she felt so gloriously wonderful.

But I can’t come without her.

His hips ground against her, slow swirls of pressure, while his finger sought and found her swollen pleasure button.

He rubbed, and thrust, and rubbed, and thrust. And…

She screamed as she came, fisting him tight with her orgasm, drawing forth his own climax with the strength of hers.

He bellowed her name, and he coiled his body around her. He claimed her with his seed and perhaps even his fucking soul.

How could he not? The second time proved maybe even more glorious than the first. Without the impatience of their earlier need, he truly got to savor her. Taste her. Feel her.

She’s like a drug.
Addictive. He already wanted another hit.

It made him want to sing his feelings aloud. Thing was the song he chose—“Hit Me Baby One More Time” by Britney Spears—made Aria giggle hysterically when he finally gave in and crooned it.

But that laughter only brought them closer. And in his bed that night, they did manage to hit it two times.

Yesssss.