Chapter 2 Carla #2
His words, the vibration of his voice against me, the way he moans like he’s the one receiving pleasure—it all pushes me closer to the edge. My hips start moving on their own, chasing the pleasure he’s offering. He encourages it, using his grip on my thighs to help me ride his face.
“Amari...” I’m begging now, desperate for release.
“Give it to me. Come on my tongue.” The command is accompanied by him sucking my clit into his mouth while two fingers slide inside me.
The combination tips me over. Pleasure crashes through me in waves, my legs shaking as he keeps going, keeps licking and sucking like he’s trying to capture every drop. My hand presses harder against my mouth, muffling my cries as my body convulses with the force of it.
He doesn’t stop until I’m pushing weakly at his head, oversensitive and trembling. Even then, he places gentle kisses on my inner thighs before pulling back, looking up at me with satisfied eyes.
“Oh my god,” I pant, trying to catch my breath.
“Oh my god,” a different voice cuts in from the doorway.
My head snaps back to see Bobby standing there, quickly turning away while clutching a file.
His dark skin has taken on an ashen hue, and he flashes away disappearing with his vampire speed.
Mortification floods through me, replacing the pleasure-drunk haze.
I try to swing my legs around, pushing myself back from Amari’s head.
“What?” Amari lifts his head, completely unbothered by the interruption. His mouth and beard glisten with my arousal, and he looks thoroughly pleased with himself.
I sit up and pop him on the head. “Goddamn it, Amari! You knew Bobby is here!”
“So what?” He actually licks his lips while looking at me, his eyes still dark with lust. “Get back here and let me finish eating.”
I swing off the island too fast, my legs still shaky from my orgasm.
I start to fall, but he flashes over and catches me, steadying me against his chest. While I fumble with my dress, tugging it down and fixing my panties with trembling fingers, he’s still in that lust-clouded haze.
He wipes my essence from his beard with the back of his hand, then sucks his fingers clean like it’s honey.
The sight sends another pulse of heat through me despite my embarrassment.
I slap his chest. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’m your fated mate, and we are home in our coven.
” His voice carries that arrogant authority that simultaneously infuriates and arouses me.
“When I spread your legs for my mouth to play with your pussy, this coven knows to stay out of the way until I’m finished.
Even our children know. Bobby strolling into the kitchen to catch us means he’s fallen off with the program. ”
My mouth falls open. Our time into this mate bond and he still surprises me with his complete lack of shame about claiming me anywhere, anytime. In his mind, I’m his mate, this is his castle, and everyone else can deal with it.
“I’ll finish your pancakes. Sit down.” He raises an eyebrow, and despite my wobbly legs, I immediately sink back into the chair.
His chuckle follows me as he returns to the batter, washing his hands first with a thoroughness that makes me blush all over again.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to come down from the intense orgasm he just gave me.
I shift in my seat, still sensitive, sweating.
I run a hand through my wild curls, trying to tame them, biting my lip while he just casually whistles.
I see the pride radiating off him, the happiness in every movement.
His shoulders are relaxed now, the tension from earlier completely gone.
My beautiful, charming, asshole vampire king.
It takes so little to make him happy. Just the taste of me on his tongue, the knowledge that I’m here, that I’m his.
He continues whistling while flipping pancakes, the domestic scene so at odds with what just happened on this very counter.
The batter sizzles on the griddle, filling the air with the sweet scent of vanilla.
Soon he’s stacking them on a plate, arranging them just so because my vampire has a thing about presentation.
He provides syrup. The expensive maple syrup he special orders from Vermont.
He sets down utensils, then pours me a glass of milk.
The care in every gesture overwhelms me. This is the same vampire who terrifies his enemies, who rules his business empire with an iron fist, who once painted a bar red with blood for me. And here he is, making sure my pancakes are perfectly golden and my milk is exactly the right temperature.
I stare at him in awe as he sets everything before me.
“I have to multitask for a moment. Tofi and Bobby.” He leans close, his breath brushing my ear. “Then it’s all you. I’m not finished with you.”
I bite my lip as he steals another kiss, and I taste myself on his mouth. The flavor should embarrass me, but instead it sends another pulse of arousal through me.
“Mmm, fuel up.” His grin promises delicious trouble. “Because you’ve got a busy day ahead of you. Another bear fuck.”
My mouth falls open. Bear fuck is what he calls it when he fucks me until I’m begging him to stop, until I’m so oversensitive that even his breath on my skin makes me come. “Oh no, Amari. Bear fuck? No, baby—”
But he’s already gone, flashed out of the kitchen before I can protest. His laughter rings down the hallway, rich and satisfied.
I sigh and start stabbing into my stack of pancakes.
The first bite melts on my tongue. Perfectly fluffy with just a hint of vanilla.
Even distracted by lust, he makes perfect pancakes.
Better fuel up indeed. When he’s done with business, he’s going to fuck me until I can’t walk, until I forget my own name, until the only word I remember is his.
And despite my protests, I can’t wait.