The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(87)
He helped me undress him, shrugging out of his shirt.
“Pants, please.”
He lifted his head, his pupils dilated. “I’m busy.”
“Multitask.” I snapped my fingers at him, figuring that he was too into this to follow through on his “game over” threat at my command.
Rohan rolled his eyes but pretty much ripped his pants and boxers off in record time, leaving him naked and magnificent. “May I return to what I was doing?”
“You may.”
He stretched out along side of me, his skin hot against mine.
The air was cool on my back and I wriggled against him, wanting more of his warmth. More of his everything.
He pressed his hand between my shoulder blades, keeping me close as he swirled his tongue along my nipple. My tits grew full and heavy. I placed his palm underneath one to fondle it.
Even during sex, Rohan possessed a graceful elegance, a precision. He veered between an economy of movement that was obscene in its effectiveness on me and a drawn-out languidness that left sensations sinking so deep inside that sparks literally shot off my skin.
One singed his eyebrow. Rohan jerked away.
I blushed beet red.
He gathered me in his arms, turning me to spoon me. “The dangers of lightning girls,” he murmured.
How would I ever explain that to any other guy? Was I only going to be able to sleep with Rasha from now on?
Rohan sighed, nudging at my jiggling leg. “Quit thinking.” He reached between my legs.
Cuntessa pulsed in a steady slow throb. His stroking was an exquisite torture.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he said.
“That’s on you.”
“Yup,” he said in a voice 150% smug.
Our bodies were curved tight around each other. His stubble rasped my skin as he sucked my shoulder. I reached back to stroke his cock, loving its hot, hard fullness. Giddy with anticipation of having him inside me.
Our hips rocked. Rohan hooked his leg over mine to open me wider, a second finger plunging inside me.
“I don’t want to come without you inside me,” I gasped.
“Tough. Because I need to taste you.”
Hello, lucky sixty-nine.
He started with a slow tease of my clit, either forgetting or totally remembering that his dick now hovered over my mouth and two could play that game. I licked the head of his cock, tasting those first salty drops on my tongue. A pioneer in the land of Rohan, I surveyed the length and girth of him with my lips. Not yet taking him into my mouth, simply enjoying a leisurely exploration.
Rohan groaned. There was a squirt of lube and then his finger rimmed my ass.
“Wrong hole.” I twisted, all squirmy.
“Or very right if you’re up for it.”
He pressed some spot at my opening and my stomach clenched in a delicious swoon. Oh. If I could get more of that feeling, I was open to reconsidering my “no buttholes here” stance. Plus, his dirty side was incredibly hot. What the hell. I pushed back against him in answer.
He inched his finger into me.
I gasped, my muscles clenching tight around him.
“Good?” he asked.
“Uh, I don’t know?”
Rohan see-sawed his finger in and out.
I practically came right there. A wanton moan ripped from my throat.
He laughed. “You’re so bent, Lolita.”
I deep-throated the smirk out of his voice. Rohan’s dick hardened further, jumping to a new level of swollen arousal.
Miracle of miracles, for once in my life my brain shut down. Got to hand it to the guy, it was more fun when I stopped thinking. I was lost in the increasing tempo of his tongue and fingers at play on me, and focused on returning that same level of pleasure to him.
I fumbled on the bed for the bottle of lube he’d tossed there, squirting some into my hand and getting my finger well-oiled up for some play of my own.
Rohan mumbled a whole bunch of words in a language I didn’t understand when I slid my finger into his ass, but his hips pumped with more urgency so I kept going, almost as heated by my own actions as his.
Behind my eyelids, I saw white. My muscles tightened, my body flushing hotter and hotter. I rocked against his fingers in an ever-spiraling circle of wild abandon, until I shattered.
Every other orgasm prior to this was relegated to a boring black and white, but this was glorious Technicolor. 3D IMAX. And I came not once, but twice! The incredibility of achieving that Holy Grail made me forget everything else–like my name and his cock in my mouth.
Didn’t matter though because the second I stopped orgasming, Rohan started, half-arched on the bed above me, biting my hip as he came. He fell back against the bed, his head by my thighs, turning to press a soft kiss against my flesh. “That was round one.”
24
Round two? People had those outside of movies? Yowza.
I eyed my nightgown because round one’s conclusion was when I should have been getting dressed, but it was way on the other side of the room, and Rohan was lazily stroking my arm, his eyes the color of melted honey, and really how much of a hardship could round two be?
I nestled into the mattress. Even Rohan needed some re-up time so I curled in close, being the one to do nothing more than run my hands over his body.
Gawd, what a beautiful body it was. As the interwebs had shown me–time and time again–plenty of guys were ripped and chiseled. That was their endgame. Rohan was a fighter. He was functionally fit, all sinewy grace. His body had a purpose and while it was obvious in the hard planes of muscle, his tapered torso, and long leanness that he took great care of it, he also displayed an ease and lack of ego in his own skin that I found refreshing.