Page 59 of Venom Island

I did that. I made her pant. Now I’m going to make her well and truly scream.

I’d silenced her before because we were approaching the compound. But Francesca made sure to tell me that these rooms are soundproofed and secure. I set the code just inside the door, ensuring no one can enter without permission.

A good thing, because if anyone disturbs us now, I’ll kill them.

I don’t even care if we’re guests here.

My Omega needs my knot, and I’m going to fucking give it to her.Hard. Without restraint. Over and over again.

She shudders, her grip on my hair tightening as I switch breasts.

When I nibble her stiff little peak, she yelps and then moans, her body vibrating withwant. So I do it again, this time hard enough to draw blood. Because I want to mark her everywhere. Ensure my claim isclear.

It’s a masculine need.

A savage desire.

But I embrace it.

She practically pants beneath me, my little wolf enjoying my version of pleasure and pain. Every time I nip her, she jolts. Then she groans when I lick her. Cries out when I suck. Screams for more when I start all over again.

By the time I reach the sweet apex between her thighs, she’s a mumbling mess of desire-filled pleas.

I lick her delicious slit, sliding my tongue between her slickened folds, and taste every inch of her soaking wet cunt.

It’s fucking heaven.

And I tell her that, my wolf very much in my voice as I utter each word. “I’m going to lick you for hours,” I warn her. “Eat you fordays.”

Because there’s no way I’ll ever get enough.

“You taste so damn good, Caja.” If innocence had a flavor, it would be this. All vanilla and cream with a touch of residual smokiness.

The type of smokiness inspired by a heat.

“Gods, tesoro,” I groan against her clit. “It’s like you were made for me.”

And maybe she was.

Maybe I was made for her.

I don’t fucking know, nor do I fucking care.

I suck her bundle of nerves deep into my mouth and smile when she shatters for me again, her poor little body so primed and ready that it no longer takes much to turn her into an orgasmic mess of pants and screams.

“So fucking good, Caja,” I praise her. “You’re so fucking good.” And I want to reward her.

Which is why I keep licking her.

Sucking.

Nibbling.

Taking her over the edge again and again while my fingers work their magic inside her.

Stretching her.

Ensuring she can handle me.