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Moaning softly, Isla allowed him to part her thighs but what he saw when they opened made Sark wince in sympathy.

Her soft little pussy was even more swollen than it had been the night before. The outer lips were parting of their own volition to show the shiny inner folds. Her honey was running freely and her little Goddess pearl looked twice the size it had the last time he’d seen it—it was so swollen and sensitive with need.

Poor little female! Sark’s heart ached for her. She was in so much pain—so much need. He just wanted to heal her and make her feel better—just wanted to ease her agony. But he had to do it gently so he didn’t cause more distress.

This was going to take a while.

Throwing a pillow to the floor to cushion his knees, he pulled her gently to the end of the bed and positioned himself in front of her. As her warm, feminine fragrance tickled his nose, he felt his already hard cock surge between his thighs. There is nothing a Kindred warrior loves more than tasting his female and Isla was laid out like a feast before him, her swollen pussy needy and wet with her juices.

Leaning forward, he pressed his tongue gently against her open pussy. The sweet, salty flavor of her honey filled his mouth but he didn’t move—he wanted to let her get used to the gentle pressure first.

Only when Isla moaned and twitched her hips did Sark press inward. He made contact with her Goddess pearl but then he stopped again, letting her feel his tongue enveloping the sensitive little button.

Isla moaned and moved again, bucking her hips a little bit and rubbing her hot little pearl against his tongue. Still Sark remained in place. He wanted to let her have control of the situation—let her feel that she could have as much or as little contact as she wanted.

Apparently she wanted more because the next thing he knew, Isla had reached down to twine her soft little fingers through his hair. With a little cry, she pulled him closer and began bucking her hips faster, rubbing herself against his tongue and shamelessly riding his face.

Sark felt his cock surge again. Gods, he loved the way his little female was taking control!

That’s right, baby—use me! Fuck your soft little pussy on my tongue!

Inside his head, he heard a soft growl of approval—his Drake was enjoying this too. He could taste Isla’s honey through Sark and he seemed to want more.

Sark wanted more, too. Wrapping his arms around her full thighs, he pressed forward, burying his face between her legs and growling hoarsely as she tugged his hair and used him hard.

He was in heaven. Her soft flesh against his cheeks, her warm feminine fragrance filling his senses, her delicious flavor on his tongue…he felt surrounded by her in the best way. Sticky honey gushed from her pussy mouth and he gladly lapped it up, drinking her in as she rode his tongue to the peak.

“Oh! Oh, Sark! I think…think I’m coming! Coming so hard!”

Her gasping moans were music to his ears. By now he had forgotten why he was doing this—that he was just trying to stave off her need to be bred. All he could think of was how delicious she tasted as she made more honey, just for him, while she came in his mouth.

At last Isla’s grip on his hair faltered and her thighs fell away from his face. She lay there panting, clearly spent. She was still dripping a little, from her nipples and pussy, but it was clear that Sark had helped her take care of most of her nectar and honey.

“Oh, Sark,” she whispered weakly and held out her arms to him.

“Baby…” He climbed back on the bed and pulled her close to his chest. She felt so small, so fragile in his arms and yet her bountiful curves saved her from feeling too breakable. He loved her full figure, her glowing skin, her silver hair—everything about her, really.

Just wish I could breed her and bond her to me, he thought longingly, as he cradled her close to him. But he knew he couldn’t do that—couldn’t risk a failed-bonding—it was just too painful for everyone involved. And as a Hybrid, the chance of him actually being able to bond with any female were slim to none.

“Feeling better now?” he asked softly, cupping her cheek and looking down into her eyes.

“I…think so.” She nodded and looked down at herself. “Goddess of Mercy, I’m a mess.”

“I’ll clean you up,” Sark promised, hearing his voice dip to a hungry growl. “Right after I set a course for the nearest viable wormhole to take us to the Kindred Mother Ship.”

“All right.” She nodded and let go of him reluctantly as he got off the bed.


Tags: Evangeline Anderson Fantasy