He looked at her again, this time without raising his head, and for a moment fear swept through her. He made a hot, snarly sound, much like the growl of an animal about to pounce on prey and devour it. She jerked, her fingers curling harder around the sheets.

The first swipe of his tongue through the hot, slick folds of her core had her crying out. Her entire body shuddered and if he hadn’t been holding her down, she would have come up off the bed.

He lifted his head, glaring in reprimand, his eyes piercing and furious. “Don’t.” It was a single command.

Bijou realized Remy wasn’t in control any more than she was. Of her, yes, but not necessarily of himself. He had said there would be no stopping, no going back, and she realized why. He had gone over that cliff with her and they both were in the throes of some passionate frenzy neither could stop.

He licked at her, his tongue much rougher than she expected. Her breath slammed out of her lungs. Her stomach muscles bunched painfully. Her breasts strained and ached. He held her down with one arm, licking at her like a large, hungry cat, devouring an endless supply of hot cream. Her head thrashed from side to side as she felt the tight muscles of her empty sheath spasm, sending more cream to be lapped up greedily.

Pleasure washed over her in strong, rippling waves. The sheet shredded beneath her fingernails, long rips she barely noticed. She couldn’t stand much more. Her body was on fire, burning from the inside out. She could barely catch her breath, but he wouldn’t stop. He refused to stop even when she tried pushing at his shoulders to warn him it was too much.

Her hips bucked again and again as his wicked tongue stabbed and explored. She felt his teeth on her most sensitive spot and she exploded, came apart, her body thrusting against his fingers and mouth while she mewled at the tormenting pleasure. He gave one last lick to her shuddering, swollen body and knelt up, dragging her closer to him.

His face could have been carved in stone. Sensuality was etched deep in every line. His eyes were hooded, piercing and watchful, but filled with such dark lust there was no resisting him. “You’re mine,” he whispered.

He may as well have shouted the words. His voice was low, a mere thread of sound, but the words blazed through her mind and burned into her soul.

“You belong to me.” The head of his cock pressed hard against her slick entrance. “Do you understand? You’re mine.”