Page 21 of Stolen by the Gargoyle (Gargoyles of the Underworld #1)

We were one now.

The taste of my wife was ingrained into every piece of me.

She had given herself freely, enthusiastically, and still I wanted more.

I was a beast feral for his mate. I craved, thirsted, desired like I never had before.

Even though she had wrenched the release from my body, my cock wept for another taste.

I found that there was still so much of my wife to learn. So many new sounds I could wring from her mouth, so many new places I had left to explore.

My tongue trailed a wet path down her dark skin, flicking between the place where her breasts were. Her body trembled against my touch, the sensitive flesh all but begging me to worship every inch.

Her heavy breasts swept low while her nipples rose to turgid peaks. My attention diverted to those, wanting to savor the taste in slow flicking movements. My tongue darted out for a taste and the action caused her body to curve up against me.

She had asked me many months ago what my favorite song was. At the time, I had told her it was the sound of evil men begging for their lives.

I changed my mind.

My favorite song was her pleading, sighing, and writhing beneath me. My favorite song was the slick slide of our bodies coming together.

It was the noises of her cunt gushing after I made her come.

Trails of my saliva were left behind against her now-glowing skin as I explored her every inch. I went lower, relishing in the way her fingers wrapped around my horns for support. Her hands stroked up and down in lazy movements that made cum leak from my cock. I groaned at the sensation.

I had not known how that would feel.

This was, after all, the first time I had ever been with anyone.

I did not know if my wife had more experience than I; she must have, for the way she worked my body spoke of it. But I vowed I would wipe the thought of other males from her mind. Even if my own experience was lacking, I would learn her and be the only one she ever craved.

My lips pressed against the folds of her stomach, going to the juncture between her thighs. My blunted claws tangled within the dark curls, petting her cunt with a reverence I felt down to my core.

Our release swirled together against her inner thighs and I dipped a finger against the liquid, smearing it over her skin, the sharp scent of us filling my nostrils and making my eyes flutter in ecstasy.

I scooped my release with two fingers, pushing it between the seam of her cunt, the primal urge to mate gripping me in a tight fist. Watching my fingers disappear into her body down to the knuckle, feeling the way her palms gripped me tighter, her moans loud in our chamber, made me want to drown myself inside her and never come up for air.

A rumble tore through me as my open mouth descended upon her, fingers pulling from her entrance, so I could lap and kiss and feast like a starving creature.

Her hips slammed against my mouth, seeking friction.

“Nazzar!” she cried.

I tore my mouth away long enough to say, “Dilo otra vez.”

Her hips stuttered, fingers leaving my horns to grip my hair and yank my gaze up to hers.

“What did you say?” she asked, breathless.

“Dilo otra vez,” I repeated. “Say my name again .”

Her chest hitched as she inhaled. “Since when do you speak Spanish?”

My lips curved. “I speak many languages.”

She groaned and her arousal permeated my nose.

“Please, I need to hear it again. Please, please, please, Nazzar.”

Wetness rushed from her body, staining the bed beneath her. It brought me joy to comply with her request. My wings flared over us, fire burning within me. I rose above my wife, my hands pulling her hips up to meet the tip of my weeping cock.

“Nazzar, please .” Tears shimmered in her eyes.

The sight was enough to cause a pinch in my chest.

I leaned over her, tongue flicking against the salt of her tears.

“Do not cry, my love, mi amor.” Her body trembled against me at the words.

My hand snaked between the mattress and her body, palm pressing against her back so I could lift her until our bodies were kissing.

Her hands came to rest against my shoulders, her sharp little claws digging into my hard skin.

But I wanted more .

“Tocame.” I gripped her hand, placing it over my cock. “Te necesito. I need you to touch me like I touch you, wife. I beg you.”

Her delicate fingers closed around my cock and bliss was the only thing I felt. The ridges and bumps dug into the softness of her palm. She applied the slightest bit of pressure but it was not enough.

“Harder,” I pleaded. “Use your claws to mark me as you wish. My body is yours to maim. Yours to claim. Make me yours.” I jerked into her palm, needing it all.

She granted my desires, digging her claws into my cock. Pleasure rippled in waves beneath my flesh. It tightened through me, threatening to overflow as her wrist jerked across my length. She stopped at the tip, using her thumb to swirl my cum over me before she gripped me once more.

A groan ripped out of my chest at the feel of her dainty hand trying to inflict damage against my cock.

“Like that,” I urged, flicking her tight coils of hair away from her shoulders to dig my clawed thumb against her pulse. My tail flicked between us, sliding around her thighs so the pointed end could lightly caress between her legs.

Her pulse quickened and the tip of my tail matched the beat of her thundering heart, creating a rhythm against the sensitive nub at her cunt.

I knew when her body was on the precipice of release. I had learned the signs already. So when she careened towards it, my tail picked up its pace, pursuing her as she chased the end…

Her fingers dug into my cock as she cried out, trembling with a fast orgasm that filled the air with the heady scent of her.

She inhaled deeply after a moment. My palms stroked over her body, kneading and petting to bring her back down from that place of rapture.

When she did, she leaned back, plump lips pulling into a smile.

“Nazzar,” she purred.

“Yes, wife?”

There was mischief dancing in her eyes. “I want to taste you.”