She moved over him now, body undulating restlessly, making its own demands, her breasts sliding over his thighs, the hair rasping against her nipples. Her mouth worked him. She was intimidated by his size and tentative at first about trying to take him deeper, but he let her do all the work, set the pace, and he never pushed her.

His hand left hers to settle in her hair. She liked that. Liked that he loved the silky mess she could never quite keep under control. She found she liked her mouth on him. The way he tasted. Hot. Masculine. Salt and spice. Maybe it was the leopard in her, because she hadn’t thought she would enjoy giving him pleasure unless she was so wild she was out of control, not like this, a deliberate seduction, but she did.

Watching him watch her as she took him deeper was just plain erotic and sent little streaks of fire darting to her sex. Damp, liquid heat pulsed between her legs. The burn was so hot now she began to lose her own control. There was nothing tentative about the way she used her mouth or her hand on him. The way her other hand strayed to his balls, rolling gently, loving the velvet feel of him.

Part of it was the things he told her about himself. He made her all the hotter, and she knew he had managed to distract her from being self-conscious or afraid of doing something wrong. How could she do anything wrong when he was baring his soul to her? Telling her what she meant to him. Letting her know she was his everything?

He groaned. His hands tightened in her hair, the bite of pain sharp. His hips jerked, pushed his cock deeper so that he touched the back of her throat. A thrill shot down her spine. He looked lost in the sensations she created. The look on his face was more than enough for a reward. So beautiful. So masculine. Lines of pleasure carved deep, so sensual and just plain hot.

There was no denying she felt incredibly sexy. The burn in her sex had gotten out of control, the tension coiling tighter until she thought it was possible she could have an orgasm just watching his face.

“Baby,” he groaned softly. “You’re about done.”

She loved when he called her that. But she wasn’t about done. He was thicker. Harder. Longer. A treat. Hers. She clamped down tightly with her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and using her tongue. He was a man who had never had love. Never had care. He had given himself to her, and she wanted him to know she could take just as good care of him as he did her.

His body shuddered. “That’s it. Come here to me.”