S. Yule - Lycan Lover

“Damn right.” He smiled and gave her a long lick on the side of her neck, and she shivered. “I think you will find I have many talents where my tongue and your body are concerned.”

She didn’t doubt it for a moment and gasped when he slid his hard, naked frame down her body, sank to his knees, and put that tongue back to use. He nibbled and licked at her until she thought she would die from the exquisite pleasure. He was beyond talented with his tongue. It was amazing. Every lap of that tongue turned her hotter, wetter. He coaxed her to the edge several times, stopped before she took the ultimate fall, and dragged her back time and again, only letting her glimpse her pending release. She didn’t think she could take much more. Either she would burn up or she’d pass out. “Anthony!”

His name was barely out of her mouth when he pushed two fingers deep inside her and gave her one long lick that finally sent her tumbling to her release. She cried out and dug her fingernails into his shoulders as he continued eating her, wringing every last spasm from electrified nerves.

One person could surely not feel this much pleasure and survive. She had never come close to knowing the complete fulfillment Anthony gave her. She sank to her knees and let her limp body—the one she thought would never move again—fall back on the floor. He crawled over her and nestled his cock between her legs, slipping it deep inside her wetness. She was mistaken about never moving again because every nerve ending instantly screamed back to life at the feel of him invading her body.

He kissed her, mimicking the movement of his hips with his tongue, the rhythm slow and lazy. Her body coiled tighter with each slow thrust. His eyes burned into hers. “I’ll never get enough of you.” A long, low, toe-curling growl rasped from his throat. “You. Are. Exquisite. Perfection.” He rotated his hips hard between every word, and within moments, she neared the edge yet again.

He bent his head to her breasts and nipped and sucked each one. Determined that she would take him with her this time, she wrapped her legs around his lean waist and arched into him, seating him so deep that they both gasped.

“Anthony!”

His eyes flew wide, he stilled, and he pushed into her deep and quick. They both cried out, and her body clenched around him as his seed pulsed inside her.

He kissed her tenderly, softly, possessively. “I love you more than anything, Karen.” He brushed the hair off her sweat dampened forehead.

“I love you too, Anthony. And, by the way, you’re perfection yourself.” She hugged him back to her, and holding one another, they both drifted into a deep sleep right there on the floor.

The End

S. K. Yule lives in a tiny Midwestern town with her husband and dogs. She is the author of Darkest Hours, a bestselling Paranormal Romance Novel and Jericho’s Revenge, a Paranormal Romance Novella, and has written several other contemporary, paranormal and erotica pieces.