Stripe for Love: Paranormal Surprise Pregnancy Tiger Shifter Romance (Shifter Grove Brides Book 6) by Anya Nowlan
Authors: Anya Nowlan
Ads: Link
Layla
H ow the hell did I get here, she wondered as his strong hands gripped her hips, kissing a line down her stomach and stopping at her navel, his tongue teasing her and making her whimper against his touch.
Her hands were coiled in his thick, sandy-blond hair and when he looked up, she couldn’t quell the gasp she felt tingling in her throat every damn time he gave her that wicked look. His grayish-golden eyes were so mesmerizing that she couldn’t look away, but when he moved down even further, she had to, because her body was twitching already.
Layla threw her head back, bucking her hips up to him, her pussy wet and ready for him, nearly begging him to take her. There was this raw masculinity about him, this mysterious guy she’d met on a regular night out, while just passing through Idaho on her way to Seattle to settle into a whole new life and a whole new job.
She wasn’t even sure if she could remember his name, because the tequila shots they’d ended up sharing had gone down really fast and the conversation flowed far too easily to focus on little things like “What do you do” and “Where are you from” and “No, really, what was your name again?” When he pressed his wide, lush lips on the top of her thong, trailing kisses along the fabric and then onto her thick thighs, she whimpered a little, gripping his hair harder.
“Shh, bad kitty. Patience is where it’s at,” he said, his deep, full voice sending another happy jolt of desire bursting through her.
He grinned, hovering so close to her pussy that she could feel his hot breath on her thighs. It made them shiver. It made her shiver, all over. When she saw the glint of pure wolfish desire in him, she could remember his name as easily as hers. Atlas. The man who could hold the world on his shoulders.
She was definitely willing to let him take a crack at hers.
With a breathy whine, she relaxed against the covers and he set another soft kiss on her inner thigh, so delicate compared to the roughness of his hands. He had to be a blue-collar type, someone who worked long, hard days and then played rough later. Layla had nothing against being a part of his relaxation right now, even though she’d never done something like this before.
Just go home with someone so easily? Or, well not even her home, his home. It was insane. The good, rational girl inside of her was mortified, and the bad girl was having the time of her life. Especially now that Atlas tugged her skimpy thong aside and lapped his wide tongue across her wet, glistening pussy.
“Oh my God,” Layla yelped, opening her legs wider as a reaction. “Do that again!”
He chuckled, but complied, looping his arms underneath her and holding her up with his hands on her ass, licking up the full length of her slit again and then pausing at her clit, sucking it in and luxuriating attention on it. She shuddered with relief, finally having him exactly where she needed him, where she’d wanted him since he’d given her that wry smirk and a look that told her she was the only woman he was going to be watching all night.
And he’d been the only man she’d had eyes for too. He’d sent over a drink about five minutes after she got to the bar, and another five later he had joined her in conversation at her booth. There’d been no awkwardness, no hemming and hawing about what to say. The conversation flowed beautifully and soon enough, she’d found herself sitting close to this wide-shouldered, tall beast of a man, hanging off of his every word, and he appeared to do much the same.
Atlas sucked her clit into his mouth and she whimpered, squeezing her thighs together now because it was too damn much, but he wouldn’t let her. His grip was strong—not to hurt, but to make her stand still—and she had to, raising her head to watch him eat her pussy like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
One hand let go of her thigh and she almost protested, but then two thick fingers were pushed
H ow the hell did I get here, she wondered as his strong hands gripped her hips, kissing a line down her stomach and stopping at her navel, his tongue teasing her and making her whimper against his touch.
Her hands were coiled in his thick, sandy-blond hair and when he looked up, she couldn’t quell the gasp she felt tingling in her throat every damn time he gave her that wicked look. His grayish-golden eyes were so mesmerizing that she couldn’t look away, but when he moved down even further, she had to, because her body was twitching already.
Layla threw her head back, bucking her hips up to him, her pussy wet and ready for him, nearly begging him to take her. There was this raw masculinity about him, this mysterious guy she’d met on a regular night out, while just passing through Idaho on her way to Seattle to settle into a whole new life and a whole new job.
She wasn’t even sure if she could remember his name, because the tequila shots they’d ended up sharing had gone down really fast and the conversation flowed far too easily to focus on little things like “What do you do” and “Where are you from” and “No, really, what was your name again?” When he pressed his wide, lush lips on the top of her thong, trailing kisses along the fabric and then onto her thick thighs, she whimpered a little, gripping his hair harder.
“Shh, bad kitty. Patience is where it’s at,” he said, his deep, full voice sending another happy jolt of desire bursting through her.
He grinned, hovering so close to her pussy that she could feel his hot breath on her thighs. It made them shiver. It made her shiver, all over. When she saw the glint of pure wolfish desire in him, she could remember his name as easily as hers. Atlas. The man who could hold the world on his shoulders.
She was definitely willing to let him take a crack at hers.
With a breathy whine, she relaxed against the covers and he set another soft kiss on her inner thigh, so delicate compared to the roughness of his hands. He had to be a blue-collar type, someone who worked long, hard days and then played rough later. Layla had nothing against being a part of his relaxation right now, even though she’d never done something like this before.
Just go home with someone so easily? Or, well not even her home, his home. It was insane. The good, rational girl inside of her was mortified, and the bad girl was having the time of her life. Especially now that Atlas tugged her skimpy thong aside and lapped his wide tongue across her wet, glistening pussy.
“Oh my God,” Layla yelped, opening her legs wider as a reaction. “Do that again!”
He chuckled, but complied, looping his arms underneath her and holding her up with his hands on her ass, licking up the full length of her slit again and then pausing at her clit, sucking it in and luxuriating attention on it. She shuddered with relief, finally having him exactly where she needed him, where she’d wanted him since he’d given her that wry smirk and a look that told her she was the only woman he was going to be watching all night.
And he’d been the only man she’d had eyes for too. He’d sent over a drink about five minutes after she got to the bar, and another five later he had joined her in conversation at her booth. There’d been no awkwardness, no hemming and hawing about what to say. The conversation flowed beautifully and soon enough, she’d found herself sitting close to this wide-shouldered, tall beast of a man, hanging off of his every word, and he appeared to do much the same.
Atlas sucked her clit into his mouth and she whimpered, squeezing her thighs together now because it was too damn much, but he wouldn’t let her. His grip was strong—not to hurt, but to make her stand still—and she had to, raising her head to watch him eat her pussy like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
One hand let go of her thigh and she almost protested, but then two thick fingers were pushed
Similar Books
