Angel of the lake

Chapter Twenty-Eight

She hadn't seen this coming.

She wouldn't see herself coming either, not until it hit her.

Not until he hit her. His tongue pressing down on her. His fingers dominating.

He pressed his thumb between her legs, circling it over her clit.

"I've done you wrong Meg," He whispered, blowing at her heat. "I've denied you of the pleasure you've been needing, but now I'll make up for it."

Me before that fucking vibrator.

Evie Wicker had opened his eyes to a fact or two. Either he rocked his mate's world, or she found some other way of doing it.

It was his choice.

I'm choosing this.

He wasn't exactly getting off unlucky either. He'd waited centuries for this opportunity. And damn it, he couldn't so much as look at the woman any more without picturing her in his bed. Picturing all the ways he'd pleasure her. All the ways he'd make her feel good.

Going to make you cum for me.

Over and over and over again.

His tongue darted over her swollen bud, his balls already aching.

"What's with the—" Her words drifted into a low moan, his hands clutching her thighs, his mouth latching onto her sensitive core. She squirmed beneath his grasp, her back arching, lifting her higher. Fire surged in her core, tingles building in her lower stomach.

"Oh lord—you're serious."

His hands held her thighs tighter than ever. Never letting go. Those runes that fascinated her so drifted to a darker shade of red, burning to the touch.

Going to make you feel so good. So good for me.

"No more longing looks," He declared, licking once more from her core to her clit, groaning at her body's response. Her needy response. Her sexy response. A response that had the blood pumping right to his cock. Fuck me, so wet. Drowning in her. "No more of those fuck me eyes." He blew softly, her hushed cry hitting him like ecstasy. "No more outsiders telling me how to pleasure my woman."

My woman.

That was right. Megan was his.

Mine to please. Mine to pleasure.

He lapped at her juices, his heart palpitating, her thighs shaking either side of him.

This was what he was needing. What she was needing. What they both were needing.

He'd denied them both of this. Torture. No more.

"Wait," She cried as he took to sucking at her heat, her cunt, her body, her breathy moans giving him life. "No." She grabbed his horns—by accident. Though shivers of pleasure racked through him, he reared back, confused eyes befalling her. "Stop."

"Stop," He repeated slowly. His lips glistened with her moistures. "You want me to stop?"

"I don't want this."

"You don't want this?" He rubbed a hand across his face, but she caught that look on it. "Fuck me." His voice was raspier, his body stiff. "Okay. Then I understand."

"I'm not rejecting you," She appeased quickly.

"Like for like."

"No—I don't like the terms on which you're doing this. I don't want—I don't want you to be sexual with me to prove a point. I—I don't like how that feels."