She tore her mouth from his, ablaze with wanting that built and wanted more and more and more. “I want you to unbutton my pelisse—” She gasped as his finger moved inside her and found a spot.Oh, that felt sogood. “And pull down my bodiceand—”Oh. Relentless, his finger stroked her, moving faster and somehow with more intention. “And suck my breasts, Bran.”
A low, resonant chuckle sounded against her neck. “Anything you want, Artemis,” he murmured against her throat. With his other hand, he reached up and expertly flicked the three buttons of her pelisse open.
Her body was a symphony of sensation—his mouth moving down her décolletage … his finger working her quim … intensity building … veins shot through with sparks of light. He slid a nipple into his mouth—his tongue swirling around the tip before he,oh, sucked, and release burst through her in a sudden crescendo. A ragged cry scraped across her throat as her sex pulsed around his talented finger and she grabbed hold of his hair, begging him not to stop—not yet. The pleasure that poured through her was too much and not enough, exquisite and sublime, yet so deeply of the body—carnal.
Golden eyes lifted and met hers, her pleasured nipple in his mouth. He released it and gave it one parting lick.Oh.The climax that had overtaken her was powerful enough to shatter the world to bits, but her wanting …
It wasn’t yet satisfied.
“Bran,” she said, breathless and certain and somehow both very much inside herself and outside herself, “I want you to …fuck… me.”
Who was she that she could speak such words—and that one word, in particular?
Fuck.
A simple, four-letter word that could encapsulate the whole of human experience in all its bald-faced ugliness and beauty. For she had no doubt, the fucking Bran was about to deliver to her would be beautiful, too.
He closed the remaining distance between their bodies, and her arms twined about his neck, her nipples pressing into hishard chest, as he reached around and grabbed her bottom, pulling her to the edge of the stone. His cock, so erect and so perfect, grazed her quim and she went trembly with desire. He reached up, took her hand in his, and dragged it down his body—fuzzed, muscled chest … taut, ridged stomach …lower… thick, erect cock. He wrapped her fingers around that hard length and said against her mouth, “Isthiswhat you want?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, her voice that of an animal being, nearly feral with desire. “I want your cock inside me.”
How naughty—howfree—she felt.
Here, with Bran, she could speak her wants.
She could be brazen.
She could be wanton.
She could abandon herself and inhabit this other Artemis.
The Artemis only he knew.
Seized by impatience and utter need, she squeezed his shaft and now it was him groaning, as she ground impatiently against him. He nipped her neck, sucking that tender skin, as she positioned his crown at her sex. Slowly, intentionally, she angled her hips and slid onto him, an … inch … at … a … time. One hand around his neck, the other clutching his arse, she moved on him, even as he pushed yet deeper inside her until she felt she couldn’t take any more—then he went yet deeper.
“Oh, Bran,” she gasped, clutching him and holding on as if for dear life as he proceeded to—oh, that word again, but there was no help for it—fuck her.
Relentless and intense, he drove into her and her body changed its mind.
No longer was he too much.
She wanted more and more and more of him—ravenous.
She couldn’t take it, then she could.
Higher, he took her as he gave her what she wanted. Yet … “I want you to take what you want.”
She wanted that, too.
If this act was to be a full expression of her, then it needed to be a full expression of him, as well.
His hand tightened at the nape of her neck, holding her steady, and with his other hand, he reached under her knee, holding her leg suspended, her hips tilted, as he drove into her with an intentionality, hard and deep. She was a being transformed—as was he. Animal and intimate, that was this act.
Sensation pooled deep in her sex and gathered into itself. “Oh, Bran,” she gasped. “Bran, I’m about to?—”
Her breath caught in her throat. Release held her in its thrall, teasing just out of reach, until … it broke, shattering her into a million pieces. For the second time this morning, she cried out with only Nature to bear witness to her ecstasy. He pulled her to him, closer, his ragged breath hot on her neck, as climax caught him in its grip and swept him up, his strokes now punishing and wild as he pumped his release into her.
By increments, he slowed, but did not separate from her. Instead, he gathered her even tighter to him.
