Freeing the Beast: Taming the Beast, Book 1 by Tina Donahue Page A

fondling his cock? Becca couldn’t stop. She ran her thumb over his slit again. “What?”
    “Now.”
    Becca went to him more dutifully than she’d done with any man. He oozed naked lust and intolerable desire. “You feeling okay?”
    His nostrils flared slightly. His irises darkened from hazel to deep chocolate brown.
    He wasn’t okay. At least the okay he’d been before the last potion. Meaning, nice. Polite. This was the new Eric.
    His raw masculine allure transfixed Becca.
    “Closer,” he ordered.
    She leaned down. Her sigh mingled with his.
    “Closer,” he whispered.
    Losing all restraint, she brushed her mouth over his and whimpered.
    He pulled against the restraints, wanting to be free.
    Becca kept him her prisoner, cupping his bristly cheek, slipping her tongue into his awesome mouth. Aw damn. The sun couldn’t be hotter. The Gulf wetter. He tasted clean, sweet and completely male.
    On a shameless groan, he pushed her tongue aside, filling her mouth instead. She suckled his tongue and ran her free hand over his sculptured abs to the tangle of hair on his groin.
    Eric lifted his hips, offering himself to her.
    Becca cradled his rod and ran her thumb over the small fissure in his crown, loving the moisture that verified his passion. She shivered in delight. He pulled his mouth free. “Take off your clothes.”
    She eased back, not certain she’d heard him correctly.
    “Do it,” he ordered. “Now.”
    Becca kept running her fingers over his slit, turning him on, sending her pulse past the point of no return.
    “Becca.”
    Lightheaded and horny, Becca was torn between fleeing the room or falling off the abstinence wagon.
    As though there was a freaking choice. This was certainly her only chance with him. She tore at her clothes, ripping the ties of her top to get the stupid thing off. Her harem pants snagged on her sandals.
    “No. The heels stay on,” Eric ordered. “So does the jewelry. Lose the bra and thong.”
    She did. Oh hell, she couldn’t think of anything except the next few seconds. Hopefully, minutes.
    His smile was beyond depraved, promising a taste of damnation and a whole lot of heaven with each kiss, lick, fuck.
    “Get me out of these things.” He yanked on the leather restraints.
    “No.”
    He glared. “You can’t keep me tied up.”
    “You’re not tied. You’re buckled. Now keep quiet.”
    “No fucking way. I said—”
    His words dropped away, his command forgotten as Becca climbed on the table—as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do—her cunt facing him, his precious package mere inches beneath her lips.
    He smelled of life, a male beast, a man she truly liked even though she shouldn’t. Refusing to think about the downside of this, Becca whispered, “Bon appétit.”
    She dove in, rubbing her nose over his hairy groin first, wanting his scent on her. Next, she eased his cock aside and licked his balls.
    Eric stiffened and let out a bawdy cry.
    A fist rapped lightly, uncertainly on the door. Heather spoke just loud enough to be heard. “Are you all right?”
    “Go away,” Eric barked.
    “Don’t come in, please,” Becca pleaded.
    “Okay. I’m sorry. I just thought—”
    Eric drowned out Heather’s unending apology with a wild moan. Becca would have smiled, but she was too busy easing his right ball into her mouth.
    The man practically wept in joy. He made noises Becca had never heard before, maybe Greek god talk—who knew?—then pulled himself together and licked her cunt.
    Becca’s tongue stalled on his sac.
    He licked again, dragging his tongue up her cleft to her nub. With impressive skill, he held the tiny nodule between his teeth and licked it mercilessly.
    She lost all coherent thought at the warmth pooling in her groin and thighs. Civilization fell away, allowing Becca to revert to her animal nature, wanting nothing except to be as hedonistic as possible. She slipped his cock into her mouth, taking him in until her chin touched