He lowered his head and took one delicious swipe with his tongue, dragging out the honey he craved. He stopped instantly, letting it dissolve in his mouth while he waited for her reply.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

She hesitated again, and he took another sample. Her body shuddered with pleasure and he blew more warm air over her. Waiting. He let her know he was waiting but he didn’t look away from his prize.

“Yes, that’s all yours. I’m all yours. Every inch of me.”

“Belongs to me. Your golden mouth. Such perfect breasts. An ass that can bring men to their knees. And this beautiful, perfect flower. Belongs to me.”

He didn’t allow for much movement, but she managed a little. Her hips bucked again. Her legs moved restlessly.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Eli.”

She was drenched. He wanted that. Even needed it. Her scent called to him, and the craving grew beyond anything he’d known yet.

“I’m addicted to this taste, Kitten,” he admitted. “I think I could eat you all night and never get enough. This time, you want my cock in you, I expect I’ll be holding out for something from you. Something I need from you.”

“What?” She gasped the word. “Eli, tell me what.”

“You figure it out, Cat. Maybe after you’ve given me ten or fifteen orgasms, you’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t wait. He couldn’t. Not even for the pleasure of torturing her slowly, knowing every moment he had her spread open, every word out of his mouth was only making her hotter. Only causing the tension to wind tighter and tighter in her.

He needed. And he needed now. His mouth clamped over her slick, hot entrance and he plunged his tongue deep. She cried out, tried to move, but his arms pinned her down, refusing to allow her to wiggle away or even toward him. This was his. This was for him. He was taking what belonged to him. What she gave him.

He used his tongue ruthlessly, devouring her ravenously just like he said he would. She tasted better than he remembered. Hotter. Sweeter. Spicier. He ate her like he was dying for her taste, because he was. He’d had the taste of her in his mouth from the moment he’d heard her laughter in the kitchen with Emma.

He heard her ragged breathing, the desperate little mewling cries as he ate her. He loved her cries, music to his ears. He loved her body, and it belonged to him. He loved that the more he took from her, the more golden cream spilled out.

He felt her body coiling. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his face buried in her. “Give it to me. I want it now. Give it to me.” He pressed his mouth over her clit and suckled, using his tongue in little butterfly strokes to stimulate her further.