Snow & Her Huntsman by Sydney St. Claire Read Free Book Online Page A

he’d ever heard. Her scent enticed him. The taste of her thrilled and lured him in for more. He couldn’t get enough of Rylee, and he was thrown back in time to that memorable weekend when they had fucked like rabbits.
    Never had a woman affected him this way, not before and not since. And now that he had her again, he didn’t plan to let her go. He had three days to convince her they belonged together. The more he had, the more he wanted—no, needed.
    He lifted his head and wrapped his hands around her tits, loving the contrast of her pale flesh beneath his tanned hands. She wasn’t a big-breasted woman, but there was enough to fill his palms and mouth. The pink tips, still swollen from his earlier ministrations, begged for his attention. His fingers teased the hard pebbled nipples.
    Rylee shifted restlessly. “God, don’t stop.”
    Smiling, Hunter drew in the sharp tang of her arousal. “Just using my five senses. I love your tits.” His hands skimmed across her flat belly. “And your soft skin.” His breath teased between her legs. “And your hot pussy.” He ran a finger around her slit. “You feel sexy, all hot and wet. I want to touch you everywhere.” Her hips lifted, begging, inviting. “I love looking at you, seeing your pretty, pink pussy dripping all that sweet cream. You smell sweet and spicy.” He lapped her juices, his tongue snaking in for more. “Hmm, taste good.”
    Her moans turned to breathy sighs. “Let’s see, what’s next? Ah, hearing.” He plunged two fingers into her pussy and smiled when she gasped and panted. His tongue found her clit again and circled. Sighs became sweet mewling, then desperate cries of need.
    He stopped. “You make such lovely noises, baby, and I want to hear you scream my name but not yet. Think that’s all the five senses.” He gazed at her pink pussy, and his fingers buried in her wet sheath. “Know what my favorite is?”
    She shook her head. “Please, Hunter. Sir.”
    “I don’t know either. Guess I’ll have to keep exploring. He removed his fingers and licked her cream, then thrust his tongue inside and drank. She let out a long, low whimper. “I love your cries and the way you beg me to let you come.” He rose onto his elbows and stared into her desire-clouded eyes. “Are you going to beg, Snow? Will you beg your huntsman to let you come?”
    Rylee opened her mouth to yell yes. Instead of agreeing, she shrieked as he plunged his fingers back inside and curled them, finding that rough patch of flesh. He pressed hard. Her hips jerked upward. “Hunter! Sir!”
    Another scream followed when his lips closed over her clit, his mouth drawing in her swollen heart. He sucked long and hard. She called his name, and every time she neared the edge, he released her, his tongue licking through her folds to her slit or over her sensitive belly.
    Over and over, he teased her, taunted her with promises of the biggest orgasm, then stopped. And as soon as she opened her mouth to beg, his fingers resumed their endless pumping, his mouth its tortuous sucking, leaving her breathless and gasping.
    Hunter couldn’t get enough. He wanted this to last, go on forever. He loved her breathy gasps, her crazed whimpers, and the trembling his touch set off inside her. Most of all, he loved how easily and wholeheartedly she responded to his every touch. Her clit swelled, and the tiny head peeked from beneath its protective hood, eager to dance with his tongue, and just below, moisture trickled, making him groan.
    His fingers fucked her pussy. The walls of her sheath gripped him hard, pulsating around them, making him wish his cock was buried deep in her glorious, wet heat. He alternated between slow and lazy to fast and frantic, drawing out the pleasure for both of them.
    “Please, Sir,” she wailed. “Let me come. I need to come—”
    He curled his fingers, finding again that rough patch of super sensitive flesh the size of a dime. One touch, and she was writhing and