Jacob's Faith (Breeds #11) - Page 16/34

Her heart was racing out of control, she could feel the slow slide of her juices coating her cunt, preparing her, pleading with her to open herself, to force him to take her again, to fill her, burn her with his heat and his hardness.

She licked her lips, trying to ease the dryness that assailed them. She looked up at him hesitantly, meeting his hungry gaze, aching for his kiss.

“I liked it, Jacob,” she whispered, her hands moving beneath his shirt, touching the tight, muscular flesh at the side of his abdomen. “You didn’t hurt me.”

She felt and heard his indrawn breath as she touched him. She paused, wondering if she should. How she had always dreamed of touching him. Was it like the cuddling afterward, forbidden?

“Don’t stop,” he whispered as she paused.

He levered up, allowing her hand to work under the T-shirt. Instead, she drew back, hooked her hands in the material and ripped it. Excitement flared over her as she heard the rending material, saw the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen finally revealed. The rush of blood through her system seemed satisfied by that small act of savagery. The need to assert herself, her desire, screamed through her body.

He smiled. A small half smile that looked sexy and inviting as he tossed the remains to the floor, rising to his knees, his legs encasing her hips as he watched her.

“Are you finished?” The dark suggestion in his voice had her breath coming quicker now, her curiosity overwhelming her.

“No.” Her hands flattened on his abdomen, watching the muscles clench as he drew in a hard breath. “I want to touch you, Jacob.” She heard the throb of longing in her voice, the need inside her that was more powerful than the demand in her vagina.

“Then do it right,” he told her heatedly as he moved back. He pulled up until she was kneeling in front of him.

Jacob gripped her dress and pulled it roughly over her head. The thong was ripped from her hips, leaving her naked in a matter of minutes. Then he was watching her, his pale eyes filled with hunger as his hands fell to his sides.

Faith watched him, wary, uncertain what to do. He was breathing as roughly as she was now, his chest rising and falling laboriously. Tension lay thick and hot around them, drawing her into a maelstrom of sensations that assailed her both inside and out.

His hands moved again, gripping hers, laying them back on his hard stomach. Faith heard her own whimper of longing, distantly shocked at the desperate quality of it.

Faith’s hands slid to his chest, her palms tingling with the feel of smooth, hard muscle. But as much as she wanted to touch him, she needed to taste him. She leaned forward, her lips pressing against a rough male nipple, her tongue stroking over it, wondering if it would bring him the pleasure that his fingers on hers had.

He groaned, his body tensing further, his hands going to her head, clenching in her hair. She braced herself against him, then raked her teeth over the hard point before nipping it seductively. His indrawn breath was hard, loud.

She moved to the other side, giving it the same attention, amazed that Jacob was allowing her the freedom to touch him as she pleased. She wasn’t about to argue the opportunity though. Her mouth slid to his neck in a slow heated stroke, her tongue rasping over the skin, then her canines raking it as he shuddered against her. Her mouth trailed over his jaw then, her hand moving timidly to his head, needing his kiss.

“Faith, you’re killing me,” he whispered as her lips stroked across his.

She opened her lips, her tongue pressing against his, begging for his kiss. She needed him so desperately, needed the hunger and heat that she knew was a part of him.

As her tongue stroked over him, a growl, rough and deep, vibrated from his chest. His hands tightened in her hair, holding her still as his lips closed softly over her tongue, drawing it further into his mouth, stroking it, suckling at it until she was moaning into his mouth, fighting for more, unable to get enough of the erotic, sensual caress.

His muscles were tight with the leashed power of his body. His lips slanted over hers, his tongue driving into her mouth as she pressed the soft mounds of her breasts against his chest. The fiery pinpoints of her nipples were rioting with the added sensation of his hard flesh cushioning them. Her body was vibrating with arousal. Pleasure streaked over her skin like arcs of lightning as, with a desperate sound of her own hunger, her lips closed on his tongue. Her tongue stroked the swelling glands at the side, knowing the hormone they contained would send her streaking further into ecstasy.

His taste was dark and rich, like the earth, like a summer lightning storm, like all the heat and madness that burned her body for the past six years. She couldn’t get enough of it. She stroked at the invading, thrusting tongue, suckled at it, fought for more and still craved him.

Her hands wouldn’t lie still at his chest; her hunger wouldn’t stay timid, restrained. She stroked his chest, his hard stomach, then moved to the snaps of his jeans as her lust finally overpowered her.

“Faith,” he cried out her name softly as the last metal snap came undone, and her hands were pushing frantically at his hips, drawing the material down, until they cleared the massive erection awaiting her.

He was huge. Too thick for one hand to encircle, heavy and pulsing with heat. The head was thick and flared, tapered, perfect for a slow, easy penetration. She remembered how it felt, sinking into her vagina, spreading her, stretching her with a sensual pain that had her begging for more.

Her hands stroked the shaft, her fingers exploring the heavy veins, the steel hard heat as she felt her cunt weep with anticipation, her mouth water with the need to taste, to stroke that heavy cock.

She pulled back from him, her eyes rising to his. He stared down at her, his gaze heavy lidded, his lips sensually swollen, his breathing hard and rough.

“I want to—” she whispered, almost tearful with her inability to express what she did need. She didn’t want to disgust him, didn’t want to shame herself, but she needed—

“Faith.” His hips moved, pushing his cock further into her grip, as his hands clenched in her hair. “You’ll kill me, baby.”

Then his hands were pressing her head down, pushing her to the jutting, demanding erection below her. Faith licked her lips, then licked the pulsing head rising to meet her.

He jerked against her. His grip tightened in her hair as his harsh, dark voice whispered his explicit encouragements. Her mouth opened, sliding over the tapered tip, stretching as her cunt had stretched the night before, taking the full width into her mouth and sucking at it hungrily.

He tasted male, rich and heady, strong and hot. Her tongue laved the area just under the hooded edge of the head and she felt him jerk.

“Yes, baby,” he groaned when she would have moved back in fear that she had done something wrong. “It’s okay, Faith. That’s it, baby. Lick me there. Oh hell—”

His body arched as she sucked him back into her mouth, flattening her tongue to allow it to stroke the area as her hands caressed the length of the shaft, his smooth, hairless balls. She slurped at him, licking and sucking as her hunger intensified. She wanted to feel the hard throb of him as he tightened for his orgasm. She wanted to taste him, wanted to know the taste of him in her mouth as he came.

He whispered her name repeatedly, the muscles of his thighs clenching as she felt him jerk.

“Faith.” His voice was shocked as he tried to draw her head back.

She refused to move. Her fingers stroked the hard shaft, her mouth sucking desperately at his cock now as she moaned in a desperate denial as he tried to pull her from him.

“Baby, please,” he growled, his body shuddering.

Then the head pulsed, shooting a small stream of moisture into her mouth. It was a bit salty, a bit sweet. She growled then when his hands tightened in her hair, her teeth scraping the flesh warningly. She wanted more. She needed more.

“Damn you,” he cried out with sensual fury. “You want it, baby? You want it all that bad? Then take it.”

He held her firm then, his cock thrusting into her mouth, burying the wide head repeatedly into her mouth, fucking her mouth with hard strokes. Another pulse of fluid shot into her mouth. Her lips tightened on him as she swallowed greedily, her tongue stroking him, her hands now slippery with her own saliva as his hips continued to drive his flesh into her mouth.

Four pulses, small, sweetly addictive, then he growled hard, heavy, his body shuddering. He hadn’t climaxed. She knew the jetting fluid was merely a precursor. She drew the head deeper into her mouth then, sucking at him, hearing his moans, his growling whispered directions as she led him closer to his orgasm.

When it came, she gloried in his rough cry, stroked him with her tongue as she sucked at the now throbbing head. When the hard jets of his salty, earthy taste shot into her mouth she couldn’t halt her own cry, or her hunger. She drew on him, needing more, needing all he could give her. He was crying out above her, his body drawn tight, his hips arching to her as he shot several more explosive streams against her tongue as she swallowed desperately.

“Enough,” he cried out.

He jerked her away, his hands on her shoulders as he pushed her back, following her down as she fell to the couch. His hands were hard as he parted her thighs. She expected him to fill her, to drive the still-hard cock deep inside her.

Instead, his hands framed her face and his head lowered until his lips touched hers with a soft possession that seemed to sink into her soul. They slanted over her lips, his tongue penetrating, as she cried out into the kiss. One hand moved into the hair at the side of her head, holding her close, the other smoothed over her shoulder, then cupped the swollen curve of her breast in its calloused heat.

Faith could feel the sensations building in her body as never before. She was on fire, burning from her head to her toes. His lips swept over hers, then he rained kisses over her cheek, her neck, moving unerringly to the smooth mound of flesh his hand held imprisoned.

She writhed beneath his touch, inflamed, so desperate to feel him driving inside her that she could do nothing but whimper each plea. When his mouth covered her nipple with heated suction, his tongue flickering fire and arcs of lightning through her body, she screamed out for more.

She could feel the pull and tug of his mouth in her cunt, her womb, spasming her body with the driving demand to be fucked. She needed it, wanted it now. Her sex wept with its demand, the muscles inside tightening, needing. Her clit was a tortured, aching pinpoint of sensation as she ground it against his thigh. She was close. Oh God. So close to the orgasm, she needed to still the screaming beast intent on satisfaction.

“Jacob, please, stop torturing me,” she cried out desperately as his lips moved from her breast, his tongue licking its way down her taut abdomen.

“You’re so sweet, Faith. So sweet, and so soft—” he muttered as he lowered his shoulders between her thighs, his lips going immediately to the soaked, aching folds of her pussy.

His tongue drove deep inside her vagina as his hands lifted her thighs to his shoulders, opening her further for the fierce thrusts. He was growling into her flesh as she arched to him. She could feel the vibrations in her vagina, against her clit. Her cunt was a fiery, torturous ache demanding satisfaction.

Her hands gripped his hair as he licked her, then moved to her clit, circling the hard, swollen bud, then suckling it into his mouth. Her hands clenched, her thighs tightened on his head. She could feel her body shaking, perspiration slickening her body further as she screamed out at him.

“Jacob,” her voice echoed around her as she felt that her clitoris was about to explode.

His hands were hard on her thighs, his tongue a marauder as he stroked her higher, destroying her with her desperate need for release before he finally rose to his knees, holding her legs in hard hands, spreading her as he came to her.

“Mine.” He stared down at her possessively, savagely.

Her hands reached for the steel hard strength of his cock, needing it inside her, wanting only to encourage him in his possession of her. He grabbed her hands, forcing them to the cushions of the couch as he came over her, snarling down at her.