Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) 📖

But I can’t come up with anything in that moment, still dazed by our trip to Hell and its aftermath.

I close my eyes, let my head fall forward until the stump of his forefinger brushes my cheek. He doesn’t flinch, just moves his finger so that it skims across the skin of my cheek. He murmurs, “That’s it, sweetness.”

I stay there for a moment, feel my breath reflect warmly back from his skin. And power rises. Suddenly. Surprisingly. In a hot, tumbling rush. I let my mouth drop open, turn my head slightly, and take that terrible bloody stump between my lips.

I squeeze my eyes closed, unable to look at the rest of his mangled hand, so close to my face. Concentrate on pushing the power rising in me into him. I can feel it pooling in my mouth, along with a little of his blood that’s seeping along my lips. That rich liquor taste makes me want to lick my lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, I touch my tongue to the stump.

Power floods through me, through the connection between us. Suddenly my mouth’s full. He flexes his finger against the wet, inner skin of my cheek. Turns his finger in my mouth and draws it out slowly. I open my eyes and meet his. Their neon glow fills the room. Casts deep shadows under his cheeks and chin. Glints off his teeth as he smiles at me. “Can you do the rest?”

I nod. The first was the hardest. The rest are easy. I take each stump into my mouth, push power into it with my tongue, and swallow the dark treacle of his blood as his finger regrows. When I finish his pinkie, he flexes his healed hand in front of my face, then cups my cheek.

“Now, how ‘bout I return the favor. Don’t I owe you a thousand orgasms?” His smile turns wicked and his fingertips slide down my jaw to caress my throat.

I grimace. No matter how good he looks naked, sitting across from him on the cold shower mat with my tears and his blood drying on my skin is not a turn-on.

He chuckles. “C’mon, sweetness. Let’s blow your nose.” He offers me his healed hand and helps me rise. “I don’t do snot. Everything else, I’m happy to lick off.”

He waits while I wipe my nose, then drags me across the hall and into bed, where, as promised, he licks everything else off me.

Chapter 32

I’m pulled awake by movement in and on me. He’s still inside me, still on top of me. He nudges my head to the side and kisses his way up my neck. Slow kisses. Hot but without any fervor. Like he’s already satisfied and this is just bonus time. Maybe it is. He’s not really moving. He’s buried himself in me and there’s this deep, slow pulse between us. It feels good. In a languid, sensuous way. There’s no hurry to it. No frantic build towards orgasm.

He keeps touching me, kissing me, pulsing inside me. Even though it feels good, it’s also getting to be too much. Between our trip to Hell and the frenzied sex after he licked me clean, we’ve been going at it for hours and I’m beginning to ache, not so much inside because what he’s doing there feels too good for any hurt to register. But my hips and back, which are taking most of his weight, are starting to complain.

“Uh, Jou, this feels . . .”

“Unbelievable,” he groans. “I can see why the old man does it so often. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

That’s so not what I was going to say. I reach up and push his dreadlocks back so I can see his face. It’s slack with pleasure. His eyes are nearly closed, but the sliver of pupil that shows under the lid is glowing so bright it’s hard to look at.

He shifts. “Is this too much for you?”

“Uh, a little.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I expect him to withdraw. Instead I feel the hot caress of his nethertongue. “Oh!”

“Come for me,” he whispers against my throat. One hand slides under me to arc me to him. The other closes on my breast. Kneads hard. His nethertongue licks at me while that deep, hot pulse continues inside me. I gasp at the onslaught of sensation. It should be too much. It is too much. I can’t come again. But he knows me so well, knows exactly what my body needs and when, that he brings me to a writhing, panting orgasm in what feels like seconds.

Spent and exhausted, I collapse under him, every muscle going limp. He pushes pillows under my spread thighs and I relax completely. It’s all I can manage to keep an arm draped around his neck and watch the golden light run under his skin as he absorbs the sexual energy we’ve generated. My eyes drift closed to that golden glow.

“That’s it,” he whispers against my temple. “Go to sleep.”

I do, spiraling down into gentle darkness, rocked by the beat of the pulse deep inside me.

I wake to bright sunlight. A glance at my bedside clock tells me it’s only ten minutes after seven, so I can legitimately go back to sleep for a half-hour. I snuggle back against the warm body behind me and draw his arm around my waist.

He grumbles and nuzzles my hair. “Wha’ time’s it?”

“Seven-ten.”

A grunt and he draws me closer, tighter into the curve of his body. I expect a prod against my butt, and I wouldn’t mind this morning, because I’ve got time before I have to get up for work, and despite the craziness of the night, I’m feeling really good this morning. In fact, I’m feeling really awake. Like I could get up and move mountains.

I wiggle my butt against him.

Another grunt and he rolls onto his back. “C’mere.” He tugs on my shoulders until I roll over. I cuddle up to his side and rub my thigh over his.

He stops the motion of my