In For the Kill by Shannon McKenna

this,” he gasped. “Jesus, Sveti!”
    Her smile was mysterious. “My goal is not to make you comfortable. My goal is to make you come until you faint.”
    He shook with laughter, his hands clamped over his dick, holding her hands still. “You don’t have to do this.”
    â€œBut I’ve wanted to. For years.” Her tongue darted out to lick the flushed, gleaming tip of his cockhead, the only part poking out of his fists.
    â€œI can’t,” he told her. “I’m traumatized.”
    Another teasing lick and swirl. “This part of you doesn’t seem traumatized at all,” she said.
    â€œThat part of me talks all kinds of trash. Don’t listen to him.”
    Her eyebrow tilted up. “Do you need to fight me, Sam? Is that what you need to get through the wall? Because I can give you that.”
    He doubled over in silent laughter. Oh, shit. She was winning. He was toast. He looked up, opened his mouth, and abruptly forgot whatever he’d wanted to say. He just stared at her face. Soft with laughter. Her smile, so wide and relaxed. Shining. Bonfire bright.
    â€œWhat?” she demanded.
    â€œYour smile,” he said, helplessly. “Oh, my God, Sveti. Your smile is so goddamn beautiful, I can’t even breathe.”
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    It was that look in his eyes, again. It scared her to death. “Don’t,” she blurted. “Don’t be silly and melodramatic. I can’t take it.”
    â€œOh, no!” he said, in mock distress. “It’s gone! I chased it away! Come back, please! Come back!”
    She swatted his thigh. “Stop it!”
    He stroked her cheek. “I’ve never seen that smile. You look so different. I don’t see it enough. The whole world doesn’t see it enough.”
    Well, shit. It was the world’s own damn fault for being so fucked up and crazy. But that was a bitchy thing to even think, let alone say.
    Sam cupped her face and kissed her, delicately at first, but it bloomed instantly, from something tender and holy into something blazing and carnal. It felt so natural, inevitable, to bend down and take him in her mouth. She’d never gone down on anyone, nor had she been inclined to, until she’d seen Sam. At which point, a lot of things that had sounded distasteful to her had suddenly made sense.
    He tasted wonderful, felt wonderful. She loved the vital throb of his heartbeat against her tongue, the velvet soft skin sheathing that thick, steely club, his salty scent. She cradled his heavy, pen-dulant balls in her hand, sucking him deep, swirling her tongue.
    Sam clutched her shoulders, leaning over her. His muscles were rigid, like steel cables. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked.
    She took the opportunity to rest her somewhat overextended jaw and drag in some deeper breaths. “No. Am I doing it wrong?”
    â€œFuck, no. It’s amazing. Can I come in your mouth? Not that I’ll have much choice, if you keep on like you’re doing.”
    A flush heated her face. “I’m fine with that.”
    She leaned down to get back to it, but Sam cupped her chin and gazed down into her face. “I’m getting my Stone Age ego rush now,” he told her. “I like being your first. I like it so much, it scares me.”
    â€œI’m glad that it’s you, too.” She bent to the task once again.
    He hunched over her, his breath deep, rasping pants. She deepened the long, tight, suckling strokes.
    He shuddered, shouting hoarsely as the hot jets of salty come spurted inside her mouth. Almost too much for her to hold.
    She rested her burning cheek on his thigh, cradling his cock in her hand. Only slightly softer. Still gleaming. He hunched, still panting.
    She wiped her mouth and sat back on her heels, but as soon as she met his eyes, she wished that she hadn’t.
    She could give him pleasure, but it wouldn’t make him happy for more than a