Elizabeth Finn - Immortal Protector

“Tongue?” Of course he didn’t need her answer, but he waited for her to nod her approval. And leaning to her sex one more time, he reached his tongue out to trail up the inside of one lip, skipping over her clit and running back down the other side. Her breath was coming in shuddering gasps and lurching groans. Next, his tongue met her entry and pushed into her wetness, dipping, licking, and pulling her taste from her body. Her need was nearly uncontrolled, and when he finally pulled his tongue from her, there was only one more destination in mind.

“Come for me, baby, and I want to hear it loud.” His tongue met her clit. He flicked the tip of it over the bundle of nerves, lashing his tongue swiftly and precisely against the tight, swollen nub. It was only a fraction of a second before she was screaming out her release and pounding her fists into the mattress at her hips. He looked up as he kept stroking and flicking the flesh, and her stomach muscles were clenched, and she was watching him as he pushed her body through her orgasm. It was likely the longest orgasm in the history of orgasms as he continued to lave and lick, reinvigorating her release over and over with no rest, and when he finally gave her clitoris a break, her body slowly relaxed and her moans and whimpers faded and tapered off.

What could he say? He was a one-upper. She’d given him incredible head in the elevator, and he had every intention of returning the favor.

When he crawled up along her body, hovering over her, she reached for his hips. He had hastily undressed upon first entering the room, knowing full well he would want nothing separating them when he’d finally finished with her body, and in this moment, he was relieved he had such forethought. Her hands on his hips pulled his groin between her parted legs, and when she felt the engorged cockhead, she hissed. Her wetness was coating the underneath side of his length as his cock glided between the slick lips of her sex, and as he glided down, lining up to her entry, he nudged and then thrust to his hilt hard and deep within her body.

She cried out as he sank to her depth, and when he pulled back, it was only to drive in again. He fucked her hard and deep, watching her face for any sign he was pushing too far, but she was moaning, whimpering, and she was building toward another release. She clutched at his shoulders with her hands under his arms, and she held on tight to him as he pounded one invasive thrust after another into her body. With every push, he could feel her tightness closing and clenching around his shaft, pulling, squeezing, and gripping him. The second she came again, he let loose his own floodgates and shot his cum deep into her body. He kept thrusting, letting her body grip and pull every last ounce of his cum from his spasming cock. And when he was done marking her body with his liquid, he pulled his spent cock from her body slowly and collapsed beside her.

And that was only the first time he made love to her that day.

When he’d finally let her sleep, not that she wouldn’t rather be making love to him, she drifted off slowly. His body, his movements, his taste, his scent all flitted through her mind as she relaxed into very comfortable stillness.

When she woke next, he was sitting on the side of the bed naked. His hair was wet, and she could smell he was fresh from the shower. The drapes had been pulled back, and the night sky was bright with a nearly full moon. He didn’t know she was awake, and she watched him. His back was strong, and his shoulders were broad and well defined. His hair was his beautiful shade of brown and neatly trimmed. Every last piece of this man’s body was in perfect working order, nothing out of place or lacking in any way, and as he stood, her lips parted slightly at the sight of his naked bottom. The cheeks were firm and round, and she remembered gripping them and kneading them with her fingers when they were in her apartment. His legs were long and graceful but defined with well-sculpted muscles that ended perfectly at his buttocks. He walked to his dresser, grabbing his watch and returning to the bed. His face was serious, and though their lovemaking had been intense, it had been uninhibited and carefree, but he was neither of those things now.

Stress and worry were etched on his face, and as he sank to the side of the bed once more, it was with a deep and troubled sigh. When his head sank to his hands propped up on his knees, she moved to him. As he heard her, he sat up straight and turned to her, trying at a convincing smile.

“What’s wrong?” She wasn’t surprised when he shook his head and blew off her question, so she tried again. “Where are you going?”

Apparently, that was an acceptable question. “Angus and I are going hunting.”

“I thought you usually went alone.”

He eyed her for a moment before answering. “It’s just a precaution.” His words chilled her. She hadn’t forgotten about Mason, but the reminder of just what a threat he posed to the man she loved had her body pulsing with worry and dread. He saw it on her face and pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling her neck with his lips. “It’s fine. Please don’t worry.” Fat chance. “You look hungry.”

“It can wait until you get back.” He smiled and pulled her mouth to his. When she pulled from his lips, it was with one last quick kiss to his cheek. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you too, and I will.” He gave her a small smile before hastily dressing as she continued to watch, and after one more quick kiss, he was gone.

When Sylvan approached the side of the pool no more than an hour later, her heart raced. She was floating on her back, and at seeing him, she righted herself and looked to him suspiciously. “Is Truman okay?” She had no idea why he would approach her, and given the fact he hated her, or if nothing else, found her expendable, she couldn’t fathom what his reason for being there could possibly be aside from Truman. Ember’s heart was thudding loudly in her chest as she waited for him to respond.

“Truman’s fine. Get out of the pool. We need to talk.” His words were curt, and his voice chilled her. She swam to the nearest ladder and ascended the side of the pool, keeping him in her line of sight as she moved. He watched her too, and as she approached, a look of disgust or perhaps just hatred flashed across his expression before he reached for her elbow. She recoiled, but he was quick, and as he marched her to the door, she panicked.

His hand on her elbow was insistent—more than insistent, and she wasn’t at all certain he’d allow her to pull away if she tried. When they approached the elevator, his hand remained. “Where are we going?” He ignored her question, and with every passing moment, her panic raised a hair further. Being frightened of a man was nothing new for Ember, and this man was inciting as much fear as any in her life had.

When they stepped into the elevator, he didn’t let go of her elbow until the doors had closed, and once they were closed and she was effectively trapped inside with him, he finally spoke. “You know the problem with you, Ember?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You never should have been allowed to survive. I should have known you’d become a problem for Truman. His attachment to you has never been normal, and now you’re risking his place at the council. You know, had he never saved you, or killed Thomas, none of this would be happening. We could have taken Mason out of power without the fuel of his brother’s death feeding some vendetta toward Truman.” His eyes were on her, and his hatred was clear. Ember could only look at him in horror. She couldn’t guess his game, but it wasn’t good. “But, dear Ember, we’re going to fix all that.” Ember was confused, standing in the corner, trying to be small—trying in fact to be as small as she was in the basement at ten years old. This man was threatening her, and Ember’s heart was pounding, her fear was compounding by the second, and she was well aware it would be hours yet before Truman would return.