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Her Soul to Take (Souls Trilogy #1)(44)

Author:Harley Laroux

Those bright golden eyes staring up at me from between my legs made my breath stop. He bit at the thin fabric of my leggings, catching it in his teeth and leaving a small tear. When he looked up at me again, there was a wildness in his eyes, a hunger that made adrenaline pump through me as if my body was trying to tell me to run.

“All this clothing in my fucking way,” he growled, and he ripped a hole in the leggings with his claws, leaving my thigh almost entirely bare. Then he did the same to the other side and kept going — ripping, tearing at them as if their presence was a personal insult. I clung to the headstone to hold myself up, my legs beginning to shake. When nothing was left of my leggings but torn rags, he lowered his head and ran his forked tongue up my thigh until my entire body quivered.

“So sensitive,” he murmured. He lingered at the highest point on my thigh, nipping my skin. “The way you shiver, fuck, I love to see you shake.” His hands traced up the outside of my thighs, under my skirt, where he found the lacey edges of my panties through what little remained of my leggings.

Those panties were his next victim. He ripped the fabric and tossed them aside, but not before he pressed them to his nose and inhaled deeply. His pupils swelled, and he looked at me like he was starving. His black claws pricked into my sensitive skin, leaving behind beads of blood. He licked up each little red droplet, and grinned as my mouth gaped open in shock.

“You think I won’t consume every last bit of you?” he said, his voice so deep and dark that it seemed to slither up my spine and wrap around the back of my skull. “I’ll fucking eat you alive, Raelynn.” His claws dug in, and this time I couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. He held me there, his eyes alight as he watched a thin trickle of blood well from my skin and streak down my thigh — only to be caught by his tongue.

“I won’t be satisfied with merely your blood, Raelynn.” I was shaking on my perch as his mouth came nearer. His eyes lingered between my legs, bright and inhumanely golden. “Your blood, piss, sweat, cum – I want it all. Mine. Abandon your inhibitions now. You won’t have a use for them anymore.”

His tongue snaked out, its forked sides flicking the air. I’d seen a split tongue as a body modification, but his was strikingly long. It was monstrous. It filled me with such mixed feels of excitement and fear that when I first tried to open my mouth, all I managed to get out was a gasp.

“I want to feel it,” I whispered. “Please…”

He stood, and lifted me easily from the headstone. My head swam as he turned me with my back to his chest and my head dangling toward the ground, completely upside-down in his arms. My glasses slipped off my nose and into the grass. The world became a blur, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open long anyway.

My pussy was right beneath his face, exposed, my skirt useless to cover me in this position. I panted desperately — embarrassed, eager, completely discombobulated. Then — oh fuck — his tongue slid over me, between every fold, lapping up my arousal and, God, swirling over my clit. I shuddered, jerking involuntarily, and his grip tightened on me. His claws were digging into my sides where he held me, but the pain only made it better. He took my labia in his mouth, sucking as if it were a meal, then he went in with his tongue again, moving it with focused precision over every inch of sensitive flesh.

My head felt heavy from the angle, but the rush of blood to my skull only served to heighten my dizzyingly growing pleasure. It was overwhelming, almost unbearable. I was moaning with every merciless touch of his mouth as my legs wrapped around his neck.

“You taste so good.” The hunger in his voice made me shake, reigniting some instinctual urge to flee, to struggle despite how good it felt. I squirmed in his grasp, trying vainly to escape his mouth. He laughed at me, and switched effortlessly to hold me up with only one arm around my waist, so he could move the other between my legs and massage my clit with his fingers.

“No escape, doll. You know what your safe word is.” Then his mouth went to work again. Soon enough, voluntary movement was impossible. His fingers worked my clit and his tongue — unnaturally thick, unnaturally long — pushed inside me. I gasped, wiggling as he caressed inside me, a stimulation I had not thought possible.

“Leon…Leon, please…” My words were choked with panting, and he rubbed me faster. I moaned, and he withdrew his tongue only to plunge it in again. My entire body began to tense, then trembled.

“I’m going to make you come, Rae,” he growled. “And I want you to keep begging as I do.”

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