“So violent,” he cooed against her breast, pressing harder onto her clit and eliciting a long, husky moan from her. “Now stop lying and tell me how much you want my tongue inside you, little star.”

She choked, and he knew, without even looking at her face, that she’d flushed down to her toes. Still so innocent. It was going to be so much fun eating that right out of her.

He worked his way down her delectable body, licking and kissing across her abdomen and feeling each muscle go taut under his touch. “Tell me how much you crave to have my face buried between these thighs.”

He chuckled when she tensed, her frustration building from both his teasing touches and her desire to continue fighting him every step of the way.

“Yes,” she snapped when he made no move to continue down. “I want that.”

“Want what? Use your words.”

It was an effort to get his own past his lips. He wanted it. This close to her sweet center, her scent was damn near suffocating. He had to almost bite a hole in his tongue just to prevent himself from stealing a taste before she spoke.

“Yes, you arrogant fucking bastard! I want your head between my thighs!”

He grinned. “So needy.”

Not giving her the chance to knee him in the face, he skipped over her clit and went straight to the source, sinking his tongue in until his nose pressed flat against her body.

He groaned into her heat. Fucking fuck. This was where he belonged, tongue impaled in his mate while she gyrated and cried out above him. It was damn near ecstasy.

He held his weight with one arm, continuing to work his tongue in and out of her, and used his other to untie the top of his trousers and remove himself.

As much as he wanted to make this all about her, he couldn’t. He wanted her too much and had waited too long. He hadn’t even touched himself once since the last time he’d buried his face in her.

Whether he wanted to or not, he was going to erupt. There was no stopping it. Not with her star-fire scent shoved up his nostrils and sliding down his throat.

And he had no plans of ruining his trousers when he could paint her body with it, instead.

Clenching his fist around his shaft, he worked his hand up and down in tight, angry pumps in time to the flicks of his tongue against her clit.

Her nails carved crescent moons into his shoulders, and she ground into him harder, her words an incoherent jumble of both languages.

He felt it the moment she hovered on the edge, the arch of her back, the increase in her pulse. Tightening his grip on himself, he jerked in quick, uncoordinated pulls right as he took that bundle of nerves in his mouth and sucked, hard.

She broke, flinging her hands up to his hair and nearly ripping it from his head as she cried out. The sharp bite of pain mixed with the sound of his name on her lips was the last push he needed.