feel of him stroking inside her body, caressing her, sensitizing her until she was writhing against him, her hips churning as she fought for deeper, faster, harder. "I'm going to taste you, Ria." The growl in his voice did shivery things to her spine that spread out through her body and echoed with painful pleasure. She shook her head, one hand falling from the belt of his jeans to grip his wrist, to hold him in place. "Don't stop," she panted. "Please. Please don't stop." He thrust his fingers inside her again, deeper, harder, stronger, and she held her breath, fighting for her orgasm as he stilled just as suddenly. He ignored her protest as he moved down her body, sliding her hips to the edge of the couch as he knelt on the floor and lowered his head. The first touch of his tongue against her clit froze her in place, the second had her hips jerking. The third and she was lost. His tongue rasped. The faintest bit of roughness, just enough to turn excitement to sheer brutal pleasure. Her hands latched onto his hair and she lifted to him as she felt his fingers slide free of her. His fingers retreated, and his tongue plunged deep. Her legs wrapped around his shoulders, her hips lifting as he fucked her with hard, penetrating strokes of his tongue and growled into her flesh. His fingers curled beneath her rear, lifting her closer, and she felt the blunted tips of those clawlike nails digging into her flesh and jerked with a pleasure so extreme it felt as though her heart was going to burst from her chest. She was coming apart from the pleasure, from the wild, desperate need building inside her. She had to come. He had to let her come. As he pushed his tongue inside her with fierce strokes, his thumb settled on her clit, rotated, stroked, and sent her flying into release. She