Marked by Fate (Star Moon Pack #1) Read Online J.L. Beck, Cassandra Hallman

Categories Genre: Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Cassandra Hallman
Series: Star Moon Pack Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
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Which gives me an idea. “Up.” I pull back suddenly, almost shouting my command, and she jumps to her feet. She’s unsteady, her lips and chin glistening, her eyes still teary.

But the corners of her mouth lift ever so slightly, telling me she’s right here with me. We are entirely on the same page.

“Take off your clothes.” I peel off my shirt and kick off my pants while she strips, wasting no time. I have the pleasure of watching her reveal her body, exposing inch after inch of creamy, perfect skin, every curve, every delectable bit of her. Even now, standing with her legs nearly closed, there’s no mistaking the slickness on the insides of her thighs and her swollen lips.

I reach out, and instead of taking her by the hand, I take her by the back of the neck and shove her toward the bed. “Lie down on your back, your head facing me.” She does, and I pull her closer until her shoulders touch the edge of the mattress, and her head hangs down over the side. “Now. I want you to make yourself come while I’m fucking your face.” I have the perfect vantage point, the length of her body stretched out in front of me. I could easily lower myself over her to eat her, but I would rather watch her please herself.

I sense the slightest hesitation and look down at her before filling her mouth once again. “Well? You may begin. And you’d better not disappoint me if you like breathing.” I plunge in, sighing in relief once again—it’s so fucking good.

Then, somehow, the pleasure doubles, triples when she parts her thighs, running her hands along the insides before cupping herself. Nothing in the world could pry my eyes away from the sight of her delving into her pussy, sliding up and down the length of her slit before focusing on the bundle of nerves protruding from beneath its hood.

“Such a good little wolf, pleasing me like you do,” I grunt before thrusting deeper. “That’s right. Play with yourself. Play with yourself and imagine it’s me.”

Her moans send vibrations running through my cock, my balls, and I’m in danger of losing myself again. Instead, I focus on her, the way she moves over her clit in tight circles with one finger while, with the other hand, she thrusts two fingers deep up her cunt. When she pulls back, I note the way her fingers glisten, and I can’t help it; I pull at her arm, raising her fingers to my lips and sucking them in time with my thrusts. She squeals and moans, her hips beginning to roll in circles as she closes in on an orgasm.

“That’s right,” I growl when I release her fingers. “Make yourself come before I make you come. Get yourself nice and wet for me. Show me what a filthy girl my good little wolf can be.” She’s straining, in a frenzy, her hips bouncing, her tits swaying with every deep, deliberate thrust from my cock.

When her moans rise in pitch and her chest flushes, I pull out, and she rewards me with a throaty scream, planting her feet on the bed and lifting her hips, her thighs clenching. I stroke myself to the sight of her, to the glorious sight and sound, and yes, smell of her coming, her screams going on and on until finally her voice breaks, and she collapses, breathless, hair plastered to the sides of her sweaty face.

She’s almost limp, exactly as I want her. It’s so much easier to manipulate her this way, to move her, and position her exactly as I want her. I roll her over before walking around to the other side of the bed and pulling her by her ankles until her ass is nearly aligned with my cock.

But rather than plunge inside just yet, I place her knees on the bed, lifting her hips. Her cheeks spread wide, her lips slick and swollen, her juicy pussy close to my face as I crouch before it prepared to worship her.

And I do. I worship this woman. Every bit of her, head to toe, inside and out. It’s almost enough to make me hesitate before burying my face in her sweet muskiness.

But not quite. I feast on her, starved, the memory of thinking I’d lost her never far from my awareness.

She snaps out of her fog quickly enough, pushing back against me, riding my face. “That’s good,” she grunts, moving her hips until she’s all but running her slit up and down my extended tongue. “That’s right. Eat me. You eat me so good.”

It’s like I’m possessed; every drop of her only makes me want more, more, though I know it will never be enough. My growls mix with hers, louder when she shocks me by reaching behind her, taking me by the back of the head, pulling me closer, and holding me in place while she bears down, grinding on me. I could suffocate, but I would die a happy man. I was in control when we started, but now, I’m not sure which of us is, and I’m not sure I care. Not when the sense of being in this with her is so sweet. Our connection only deepening even as we use each other like this.


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