Disciplining the Beast: Taming the Beast, Book 5 by Tina Donahue Page B

face in his dark curls. He pushed to his toes, wavered, and sank back down. She greeted him with ardent attention, filling herself with his musk, running her tongue down his thickening length. The velvety head was surprisingly salty, the prominent veins on his shaft masculine to the extreme. Both called to everything female within her, the same as his boys. Fleshy, pendulous, lightly furred.
    On a shameless moan, she eased his right ball into her mouth.
    Sounds rushed from him, a grunt and growl, incoherent words that were possibly angel-speak and finally a surprisingly crude oath.
    She suppressed a smile and licked his nut good, loving its wrinkly texture rough with hair. Exactly the way a man should be. She tasted his other ball, as delicious as the first.
    Something clanged on the stove, probably the spatula. He cupped her head, keeping her to him.
    She never wanted to be anywhere else. If only wishes could come true.
    His rod tempted now, fully erect, pre-come seeping from the slit, leaving a damp trail over her collarbone. It’d be an effort for her to take him fully inside her mouth, but it would also be a labor of love. Half measures wouldn’t do.
    She cupped his tongue-dampened balls and eased his silky crown past her lips.
    He cried out.
    She sighed softly and opened her throat to guide him as deeply as he could go. He stopped wiggling and held his breath. Just as well. He’d lose it shortly.
    With skill and tenderness, she guided him in farther and fondled his nuts.
    He said something she didn’t catch, digging his fingers into her scalp, anchoring him to her. Exactly where she wanted him to be.
    For now. Later was another matter.
    Pushing her misgivings aside, she concentrated on pleasure. At last, her nose touched his fragrant curls.
    He huffed.
    She worked him in and out of her mouth, mirroring what her channel would do, with the added oomph of her tongue stroking, lips suckling. A raw, passionate act. A moment of exquisite affection. She’d never wanted anyone more.
    He didn’t last as he had last night, reaching climax within a few minutes, filling the room with a wild shout.
    She grasped his ass and held on with more desperation than she should have, accepting his come greedily, the flavor as unique as the rest of him. Fresher than morning dew, richer than mousse, more satisfying than a cold drink on a steamy day.
    Good God, she had to get a grip.
    She let him slip from her mouth.
    His firm belly quivered with his harsh breaths. He stroked her cheek. “Thanks.”
    She wrapped her arms around his thighs.
    “Want to eat? I’m cooking all your faves.”
    Of course he was. Everything about her was in her SACS file, right down to her culinary preferences. Reapers didn’t need to eat, or sleep for that matter, but they could indulge if they wanted. A perk in an otherwise shitty job description. She’d always opted for these few mortal pastimes, and he knew it. Her existence was an open book, making her even more powerless against his charm. She wanted to bitch at him but couldn’t. She was moved by his kind gesture. No one had ever made her breakfast, much less stuff she liked to eat. What did he enjoy? “I don’t know anything about you.”
    Wasn’t fair.
    “Don’t worry. I’m a pretty fair cook.”
    She laughed. “Not what I meant. Where’d the food come from?”
    “I woke early and went to my place for clothes. Since you didn’t have a lot here, I brought my stuff.”
    “Good angels eat?”
    “They don’t have to, but I like to. Probably a residual pleasure from my time on earth.”
    She released him and stood. “You were mortal?”
    “Long, long time ago.”
    “This isn’t cosmetic then?” She ran her forefinger around his navel.
    He eased into her touch. “Nope. The real deal.” He touched hers. “Yours?”
    “An illusion.” Like their relationship. She swept her hand over her tummy. Her belly button disappeared, leaving smooth skin. “A few of my kind were born, like you. I