Flor’s Fiasco – Icehome Read Online Ruby Dixon

Categories Genre: Alien, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
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“I’rec,” she protests, rocking against my face.

“Louder,” I say. “I want them all to hear it.”

She squeezes my ears with her thighs, pushing her cunt against my mouth again. “You big bully,” she pants. “Lick your fucking mate.”

“I will once she shouts my name,” I say, and I love this. I love her neediness. I love that she does not fold when I growl at her, but growls back. I love that she is fierce and knows what she wants in the furs. I love that she rocks atop my face with abandon and only gets frustrated when I stop. She is magnificent…and she is mine.

My cock throbs hard in my loincloth, and the heels of my boots dig into the moss just outside the tent. I know what it must look like, and I do not care. I am marking my female in every way possible—with my scent, with my touch, with a demonstration. They will all know F’lor is mine.

“Say it and I will tongue your sweet cunt,” I demand.

“I’rec,” she moans, rocking against my nose. Her hand steals to her cunt and I push it away again.

“Louder,” I demand, and graze my tongue over her clit, making her twitch. I want to shove my hand into my loincloth and jerk my cock, but teasing F’lor is a greater pleasure than I have ever thought, and it must come first. “Whose face do you ride?”

“I’rec,” F’lor cries out, loud enough for the others to hear. “Please!”

Hot, satisfied pleasure unfurls through me, and I grip one of her thighs, my other hand teasing between her legs. I slide a finger into her channel, seeking that ultra-sensitive spot that she loves for me to touch. “Tell me what you want, and tell me loud.”

“Fuck,” she whimpers, and then fastens a hand in my mane, gripping so tight it feels as if she might tear a fistful out. The edge of pain just adds to the pleasure, because she rocks frantically against my mouth again. “Make me come!”

“And where are you?”

“S-sitting on your face,” she sobs as I brush my finger against that rough spot on her inner walls. She wheezes when I touch that spot, hunching. “So good, I’rec. Oh please!”

“Louder,” I demand, my hips bucking at nothing but air. Her need is slicking my mouth and chin, her thighs clamping down tight around my face, and it is glorious. I hear someone chuckle outside, near the crackling fire, but let them chuckle.

She whimpers again, grinding down against my mouth. Then, loudly, “I’rec if you don’t make me come, so help me God—”

I suck on her clit, latching onto the sensitive bud as I rub the spot inside her, giving her what she wants.

F’lor makes a choked sound, rocking against me urgently, her movements hard and fast. She is close, her wet cunt juicy with need, and I drive my finger into her faster, teasing her to the edge. I can feel when she comes, her body trembling over mine and another choked cry escaping her. F’lor’s release floods my face, teasing every last trembling moment out of her, and I do not let up until she collapses over me, nearly smothering me with the cradle of her hips.

But what a way to end my days. I enjoy the moment, then ease her onto her back, pressing hungry kisses to the insides of her thighs. She pants, brushing sweaty hair away from her face as she recovers, and she is so lovely that my heart squeezes—and my cock twitches with the need for release. I push her thighs apart and clean her with my tongue, lapping up every bit of her release, and then circling her clit with my tongue again.

She moans, her thighs drawing up. “You…I’rec…”

“…is hungry for more,” I agree, finishing her thought. “And my pretty mate tastes especially sweet tonight.” I play with her clit for a moment, then lift my head. “You do not have to scream this time. You just need to come on my tongue.”

Her delicious moan is delightful to hear.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

FLOR

I’m not sure how I’m going to face anyone outside of the tent this morning.

I lie in bed with I’rec, reeking of sex. There’s a rock under my back somewhere, and he’s hogging the furs, his tail curled tightly around my calf, and his hand on my boob. At some point last night he’d stripped me of my tunic and then fucked me again, hard and rough. There’s something about the other men in the camp that makes him want to brand me as “his” and it’s pure machismo.

I really should hate it.

Instead, I’m eating it up. He fucked me so damn good last night I know I’m going to walk funny today. I’m not even mad. Maybe we weren’t as loud as I suspect we were. Maybe no one else will care. And I should get out of bed. The ladies are going to need breakfast and we still have more khuis to get, and Daisy and O’jek will be coming by sometime today to rejoin us. Then we’ll need to break camp and head for the village on the beach.


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