At Full Sprint (A BBW Shifter Romance) (Last of the Shapeshifters) by A.E. Grace

from the teasing touch of his fingers before, and she let it happen, rolling the word ‘love’ over and over in her mind while simultaneously focusing on her own intimate pleasure.
    Shivers ran down her spine as she sensed his desire to pleasure, his urgency. He pushed a finger, and then two inside her entrance, and he groaned onto her, “God, I love the way you taste.”
    The rise and fall of her chest, of her heavy bosom now lying toward opposite sides, quickened.
    “It’s what you’re doing to me,” she whispered back at him, reaching down and touching the top of his head, running her fingers through his unkempt hair before pushing downward and bucking her hips up at the same time, driving her center into him.
    “You’re mine,” he growled in between a flick of his tongue.
    “I’m yours,” she echoed, pushing him back down onto her aching, throbbing bundle of nerves.
    His rapid flicks turned to slow, agonizingly teasing strokes that swept across her clit, before returning back to his quick rhythm. She leaned up, propping herself on an elbow, and could see from his narrowed eyes that he was grinning.
    “No more of that,” she begged, panting. She didn’t want to be teased anymore. She sought her release. “Just make me come.”
    He obliged. He settled into a quick metronomic rhythm, angled his fingers right where he needed to, and he just went. And went. And went.
    “Yesssss,” Circe hissed, her elbow beginning to shake. She let herself back down onto the bed, held the back of his head with one of her hands, and pulled at her nipples with the other. “Don’t stop, Miles.”
    She rocked her hips to the rhythm of his licking, pursued her orgasm, that river of bliss down which she would raft.
    “Oh, fuck. I’m… I’m…”
    Her body tightened, pleasure pinpointing right in her center. A storm of sensation gathered in her nervous system. She clutched at his hair, pulled at her nipple, and he drove her off the precipice, and for that split second, for that brief moment, she was caught in between two worlds, before she was swallowed up by the oblivion of ecstasy.
    “Shit, shit, shit!” she cried before letting out a long, undulating groan, arching her neck forward, crunching up tight as an orgasm like no other exploded in her center, spread outward first to her nipples before streaking downward toward her curled, trembling toes.
    Her climax at first seemed unending, but then began to wane, began to ebb, and he lapped up her slickness, her cream, before she settled into hypersensitivity, her body jolting with each touch of his tongue.
    “No,” she laughed, and then let out a loud sigh. “No, too sensitive.”
    He lifted off her, got onto his knees, his tight body stirring, his thick cock jutting out, leaking pre-cum copiously.
    She sat up, and grabbing his cock, she began to jerk him slowly, before taking him into her mouth, tasting his salty-sweet pre-cum, smelling his musk, so close, so intimate.
    She took him as far as she could, but he was positively enormous, and it dawned on her in a moment of rising realization that she had never had anything so big inside her before. He would definitely stretch her, and Circe worried in the background of her mind if it would hurt or not.
    But as she focused on pleasuring him, on sucking him off as best she knew how, that worry faded, only to replaced by her own new wick which had been reignited. No longer feeling too sensitive to be touched down there, she let him out of her mouth with a smack, buried her nose in his pubic buzz like she’d wanted to the first time she saw it, and inhaled deeply, smelling him.
    God, he smelled good!
    “You said I was yours,” she told him, leaning back again and opening her legs, bearing her womanhood to him. “So make me yours.”
    The way he looked at her, when their eyes met, told her that he was utterly consumed with lust… for her.
    Circe’s confidence grew. “Do you like what you see, Miles?”
    He blinked, biting