“Love these, Siena. Can’t wait for you to start producing milk. Not sure I’ll be leaving much for the baby.” He began walking her backward, toward the bedroom, his fingers finding her nipple and tugging. Hard. Rolling. Watching her face. Watching the beauty of the pleasure he was giving her build.

“You might not like how it tastes,” she warned.

She hadn’t protested that he wanted to drink milk from her breasts. She hadn’t thought it was bizarre or freakish. “I want everything from you. Everything. Nothing off-limits, and Dios mio, you give me that without batting an eye. You taste good everywhere, Siena. Your skin. Your mouth. Your unbelievable mouth. So good. And when I go down on you it’s a fucking feast I never want to leave. I could eat you all day, like candy, baby. So good. Can’t imagine that your milk isn’t going to be just as good.”

He opened the drawer beside the nightstand and shoved the gun inside, pushing the drawer closed.

“I don’t know why that makes me burn all the hotter, Elijah, but it does,” she confessed, her hands continuing to pull open his jeans.

He tasted her in his mouth and suddenly he was starving for her. Talking about devouring her wasn’t enough. He stepped back, shoving a knee in between her legs to widen her stance. He crouched low, both hands at her waist, then moving to the inside of her thighs to force her legs even wider.

“That’s it, Siena. Spread for me. I’m so hungry for you and can’t wait another minute.” Not even to get his damned pants open and get some relief. “You’re an obsession, baby, an addiction and I’ve got to have my fix.” She was. The taste of her was a drug in his system, the fire spread like a storm through him.

Not only was he addicted to the taste of her and that way her sheath clamped down so tight she strangled him in all that wet silk, but he was just as hooked on the way she caught fire for him, going off like a stick of dynamite.

He caught her very fine ass in his hands, fingers digging deep as he pulled her to his mouth. There it was, his wine. His nectar. All his. All for him. He loved that she was slick and hot and giving him exactly what he wanted.

She threw her head back, her hands going to his shoulders to hold herself up. “Elijah.”

He felt the whisper of his name in his cock and his erection nearly burst through the heavy material of his jeans. He lifted his mouth away from her, his hands tearing at the buttons to free himself. “Brace your left foot up against the bed,” he instructed.