Page 75 of Juliet's Touch

“And I’m famished.” He growled again.

Assuming that he wasn’t referencing food, her cunny dampened so thoroughly that she feared her feminine juices dripped between her inner thighs. If so, hopefully, he would lick them clean.

Unfortunately, that thought only added to her messy problem.

“Sit,” he demanded.

Without hesitation, she dropped her bare bum onto the chair. Her body heating, she watched as he sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots. He wiggled his long toes in the carpeting as she gawked as if she’d never seen anything quite so fascinating. Although perhaps, in her sheltered life, she hadn’t.

Standing, he shucked his layers until his powerful physique stood before her in just his shirt and trousers. He held her gaze as he slowly undid each button. Sliding out of the linen, he swirled it over his head, then tossed it aside.

A ray of moonlight caught in the dips and swells of his pectorals, which she was certain he was purposely flexing.Goodness.He was also contracting his biceps. Her gaze landed on his fascinating sculpted forearms, and she swallowed hard. If he was putting on a show for her, it deserved an enthusiastic ovation. In lieu of clapping, she smiled and fluttered her lashes.

Her shy, sweet Eric seemed to have been replaced by the more confident Knight Roamer, because he stalked toward her, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

He dropped to his knees again, and they stared into each other’s eyes. The air between them seemed to crackle with invisible lightning bolts.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes.” Although she was both terrified and thrilled about what she hoped came next, she trusted him with her life.

Placing a hand on each of her thighs, he spread them wide. “Relax, Sunshine,” he commanded.

She was trying to, but how did one relax when a man was licking his lips as he stared at her cunny?

Fitting his broad shoulders between her thighs, he leaned close and inhaled her secret scent. “Mmm,” he moaned.

There went her attempt at relaxation. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she tried to close her thighs.

“No,” he said, pressing her legs in place. Staring into her eyes as if he were trying to calm a tetchy snake, he combed his fingers through her intimate curls. The sensation was akin to having an itch scratched. His seduction worked, and every one of her muscles turned to mush.

He slid a fingertip along her seam before parting her folds. The air cooled her delicate insides.

“So wet,” he said as he gently slid his finger inside her.

She was probably leaving a puddle on his chair, but she wasn’t sure she cared since it felt like he was drawing artistic pictures on her quivering walls. Attempting to ground herself, she rested her feet on his upper back.

“Exquisite,” he said as his breath blew across her cunny. His finger found her pearl and stroked, setting her afloat in a whirling tempest of tingles.

“Oh,” she whimpered. Her hips bucked.

His chuckle sent a vibrating wave to her core. Aching for more, she undulated, trying to force him to fill the emptiness deep inside her. Seeming to understand her needs, his hair tickled her thighs, and then his warm, velvety tongue entered her. Throwing her forearm over her forehead, she collapsed against the back of the chair and closed her eyes.

He continued to devour her, licking, suckling, and nibbling as if she were a delicious delicacy. His nose occasionally grazed her clitoris, and shivers of delight traveled up and down her spine.

With each long, leisurely lick, his tongue came closer to her throbbing pearl. She threaded her fingers through his hair and held his face to her cunny, trying to force his tongue to travel where she needed it most. Once again, he grasped her needs. While his tongue made love to her precious jewel, the tornado within her continued to brew.

“Oh, yes.” She dug her heels into his back.

He parted her folds, planting a kiss where the eye of the cyclone whirled. She slid her hips forward, rocking her cunny against his mouth and digging her fingernails into his scalp. If she didn’t control her wantonness, she would suffocate the poor man.

First, one finger joined his tongue. Then another. She was full, and it was glorious.

Her pelvic muscles contracted, then tightened. Her inner whirlwind wound into a ball so tight that she gasped from equal parts pleasure and pain. And then the ball exploded into golden particles that careened outward.

“Eric,” she cried, as rhapsodic bliss washed over her.

The shiny sparks hovered before changing direction to join her corporal body.

By the time she steadied her erratic breathing, Eric stood over her, brushing wayward strands of hair from her eyes.

“I love you, Juliet Coldpepper, my radiant sun,” he whispered.

“And I love you, Eric Stone, my gallant hero,” she whispered back.