Christmas Moon by Loribelle Hunt Read Free Book Online Page B

of it as shuddering waves washed over her.
    It was several minutes before her pulse calmed, before her breathing evened and she noticed he wasn’t moving. He held still, watching her, waiting. He was hard and throbbing inside her, and she realized he wasn’t nearly done with her.
    He smiled, lowering his head to kiss her, his hair brushing her face as he did. The contact was light, tender, and undemanding. He traced her mouth with his tongue then nibbled on her lower lip. Sensation shot through her, and she gasped. When her lips opened, his tongue plunged in. Not hard enough to hurt, but forceful and commanding. Her defenses crumbled. There was no way he could kiss her like that and mean her any harm, was there?
    Then his hips were moving, his cock stroking in and out of her. Fast and faster. Hard and harder. Until the tremors started again, until her body was catapulted into    another orgasm. She didn’t come back down. His fingers found her clit, and he kept her coming again and again until she begged him to stop, begged him to let her come down from the ledge he kept her perched on. It was so much sensation, she was afraid she’d never be able to put herself back together again.
    He withdrew, and she almost cried with relief until he flipped her over, positioning her on her hands and knees. She considered struggling. She really didn’t think she could take any more, but he entered her slowly, inch by inch. His hands stroked her back. Soft. Soothing. And she responded, her body keying up again. He leaned over, blanketing her, to nuzzle her neck. His fingers settled over her clit, and she tensed.
    “One more time, sweetheart.”
    His strokes were long and slow, his fingers on her clitoris soft and gentle. It was nice, but her frustration grew. It wasn’t enough for her, and she doubted it was enough for him. She rocked her hips back against his, the demand unspoken, but she knew he recognized it. His pace increased, the pressure on her clit became biting. He rolled it between two fingers, pinching as her cunt convulsed around his cock.
    “Yes,” she hissed as she came again.
    He moved his hands to her hips and held her still as he pounded into her. Once. Twice. Gone. He came with a loud groan, collapsing against her, and they both fell flat, face first on the mattress. He rolled to his side and pulled her tight against him, his chest pressed up against her back, then buried his face in her neck again. He kissed her, sucking the skin hard enough between his teeth that she knew he would leave a mark. Then he seemed to catch himself and backed off.
    “Shit,” he muttered. “Not yet.”
    After everything else they’d done, she couldn’t believe hickeys fell into the not yet category. She laughed and rolled over.
    “Fucking’s okay but biting isn’t? That’s a little strange, don’t you think?”
    He growled, but she wasn’t scared. She saw the playfulness in his eyes as he rolled over on top of her. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the pillow next to her hair. He leaned down and nipped her lips, leaving a trail of kisses across her face until he reached her ear. He sucked it between his teeth for a second before moving to the soft skin under it. She sucked in a breath, anticipating the bite, but was surprised and disappointed when it was only a kiss.
    “There’s biting, and then there’s biting.”
    Apparently it was more cryptic statements time. She scowled. “And what’s the difference?”
    He stared at her neck so long she didn’t think he was going to answer.
    “There are some bites you can’t go back from, Delilah. Mate bites. And when we bite you, Abel and I, we want to be damned sure you understand what that means.”
    She froze as he spoke, sensing herself entering dangerous territory but compelled to ask anyway. “And what is that?”
    He let go of one of her hands and stroked the side of her face. Her heart warmed at the touch, and she tilted her face, into it.
    “Amazing.” He