Savage Nature - Christine Feehan [84]
Saria stared down at the drop and licked her lips a second time. Her mouth watered. Deep inside, she felt her leopard stir, and then stretch with languid interest. The amorous cat had been driving her crazy earlier in the swamp—something she didn’t want to admit to Drake in front of her brothers, but now she didn’t want her leopard’s response. She wanted this exploration to be all her. Looking up, she thought that Drake’s face could have been carved from stone. His eyes were hooded, heavy-lidded, his expression one of pure power and passion. His eyes had gone completely golden with lust and unbridled need—for her. She drank in the sight of him, her heart pounding with daring.
“Drake.” She stared down at his erection. “Show me.”
He didn’t ask questions, or protest. He took her hand and wrapped it around him like a fist. He showed her how to pump him. He felt like velvet over steel, a fascinating combination. She wanted to spend a long time learning all about his body, what made him gasp with pleasure and what brought him to his knees. What put that sexy, heated glitter in his gold eyes.
She’d read about sex, and she’d certainly fantasized, but she hadn’t considered being with any of the men she’d grown up with. This man with his rock hard body, the blazing heat in his eyes and passionate nature was everything she’d imagined. Her body felt hot and needy, her skin so sensitive that the thin shirt hurt. She felt hungry for him, starved to know the taste and feel of him. She wanted to make her own claim on him.
She hadn’t thought of herself as a jealous woman, but the thought of another woman touching him made her want to claw with lethal intent. She wanted to be the one to please him, to be the one he craved with the same intensity she craved him. The need came in waves, a hot rush through her veins pulsing through her feminine core. The deep urgent desire was not entirely brought on by her leopard, although she understood the feline much better than she had.
Drake Donovan was the sexiest man she’d ever encountered and the chemistry between them was off the charts. There was no resisting the terrible urgency in her body. Without thinking, she bent her head to taste that silky drop, her tongue curling around the broad head. He jerked in her fist, swelled more. A growl rumbled in his chest and she licked with small delicate strokes, smiling when she was rewarded with hot pulses.
“I’m not a damned saint, Saria,” he hissed, his voice nearly demonic.
She looked up at him, a chill sliding down her spine at the desperate tone in his voice. His eyes blazed with a dark lust that only intensified her ravenous hunger for his taste. His hand moved hers to the base, wrapping her fingers tightly around his thick erection. She let the hand bunched in her hair guide her to her knees in the thick grass. The impressive amount of flesh in her fist held her fascinated gaze.
“Draw it into your mouth, nice and slow,” he instructed. “Just like that. Easy now, get used to the size and feel.” He threw back his head and groaned when she obeyed. “Use your tongue, baby.”
She pulled back and licked him, much like a cat licking at a bowl of cream. When he pulsed against her tongue, she enclosed him in her mouth. All that silken steel. The taste of him was feral, hot, all male. His hips jerked and she blinked up at him again, seeing the amazing gold of his eyes shimmering with heat.
His hips jerked again in a desperate, shallow rhythm she immediately caught onto. She drew him deeper, and allowed her mouth to glide back. He drew a ragged, harsh breath in response. She heard her own moan as he filled