She’d been bold. More so than even she had imagined possible. But she had lived so long without him, that her confession was true. But she felt raw, exposed. “Please talk to me,” she begged him. “Do it quickly and I will rally. Never fear. I always have from every setback, each disappointment.”
He sank his fingers up into her hair. “I know how strong you are. How brave. How could I not?”
Still, his praise was not what she wished for. “We lie here, you naked and me nearly so, and still you cannot be honest with me?”
“My reluctance is borne of habit. Not of purpose.”
“Well then?” She held her hope inside her, bursting to be free.
“Words are pitiful things.”
“No words from the Bard for me, eh?” She was losing him.
“I can tell you thousands of words, my darling.” He held her jaw and kissed her. Kissed her. Kissed her with a passion that swamped her, drowned her, filled her up and consumed her. His lips savored hers, sampled and teased. He swept his tongue inside her and found every essence of her and praised her with a guttural sound of animal possession. He broke away for air, and returned, his claim blinding in its brilliance and harsh in its ferocity.
She clutched at his shoulders, frantic, tangling her legs in his. If he wanted her this wild way, she would have him, time and time again forever more. She would not care for propriety, society or church. She wanted him and always had, for himself alone. Above all others and all constructs of man.
He ran one hand over her shoulder and yanked at the muslin that kept her from him. In a tear, he ripped from her the garment and all else that barred them from each other. He bent and sucked her breast into his mouth. The hot sensation spiked through her as he licked her and sucked and nipped. Her belly burned. Her core heated. Wet and wanton, she knew this sensation was so different from that other one when Everhard had struck her, thrown her to the floor and entered her, rough, cold, fast and careless.
But the bitter memory fled. Why would it not when all she wanted of heaven was here in her arms? When the man she loved took her other breast into his soothing care and laved her flesh like a man enchanted?
And between her legs, she felt the hard rod of evidence that this time when a man took her, it would be in delight. So sweet, so different from that last time….
Octo moved, his big firm body a reassurance against the horrors of the world. He pushed her to her back, his lips claiming her ribcage, her stomach, her inner thigh, her nether lips. She shivered in shock and sweet delight that he would want her so.
“Darling of mine,” he whispered as he spread her legs wider and blew hot breaths over her needy wet flesh, “I love you. I always have. Allow me tell you in a thousand ways.”
She surrendered to him, all of her, his alone. She let her legs splay wide. Whatever he gave, she welcomed.
He groaned. “Lovely,” he crooned and spread her intimate folds so wide that the night air cooled her. She felt a tinyfrissonwing through her like a butterfly, enough to crave him more.
Like a mad woman, she groaned. “Have me. All of me.”
He put two large hot hands to her thighs and sank his lips over her. “I see how you want me. With glistening desire,” he said. And were she a virgin or were she less in love with him, she might have whimpered or refused or demurred. But by God, she wanted whatever he would grant her.
So when he sank down and sent his tongue down the length of her plump flesh, she reveled in his adoration.
“My love,” she said as she shook with craven want of him. “I need you always.”
“So shall you have me,” he promised and sent two fingers up inside her to stroke her and caress her and drive her to distraction, “always.”
She arched, mad for more of this. “You have had others.”
He paused. “None were you. I wanted them to be. But no, never so fine as you.” He parted her yearning flesh and put his lips to a bit of her that made her scream in rapture.
“God above! What is that?” She panted in expectation, clutching the sheets.
He flicked his tongue over the sensitive spot. “The place I can use to bind you to me. Forever.”
“Do it!” She flung her arms wide. Forever was what she wanted and only with him. “Do it. Hurry.”
He barked in laughter but then cupped her ass in his hands. “Don’t move. You’ll know when I’m done.”
He embarked upon a journey, took her with him and used his tongue, his lips and his fingers. She thrashed her head upon the mattress. Surrendered as if she were an animal in heat, untamed, uncaring, all for him and the moment and the madness. He sucked her and she moaned. He flicked her with the tip of his tongue and she ground her teeth. He laved her with the rough flat of his tongue and she groaned like a female untamed to drawing rooms or social rules or church. She dug her nails into his shoulders and cried her praise, her need. Nigh unto keening, she begged him for more.
“This,” he said and pulled her down the bed toward him, his cock probing the entrance to her core. “This is what you want.”
He touched her with the hot tip of his member and she smiled at him. Granted permission to take her, he spread her lips and put his cock to her core. One iota at a time, he claimed her. One stroke in, sheer delight. One retreat, soft frustration. Another in, ripe yearning. Another out, hard need. Another in, and the world, her body, seemed ready to explode. Not like that last time. Not with Everhard. But fresh, novel excitement. Meant for lovers.
