“Bend your knee,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m going to take care of you.”
The vibrator switched on.
A shiver of anticipation ran through me.
“Relax.” His command alone satiated me.
The silken touch of the toy against my inner thigh teased me as much as his mouth. He worked his way down to my ample breasts.
My breath hitched at the sudden vibration between my legs. Atticus sucked on my nipple, and feeling pleasure in two places simultaneously made me burn even hotter.
I writhed and moaned. “Feels so good.”
Once I was wet, he slipped the vibrator inside me, keeping it just at my entrance. Every stroke consumed me.
“Please,” I whimpered, clawing his shoulders.
Atticus grunted before kissing his way up to my neck while I tensed beneath him.
His gaze darkened. “More?”
“Higher.” I tried to lift my hips.
“I want you.” A current of possession rose in his tone. “I want to be inside you and feel that slick heat. Can I taste you? Can I put my mouth… right… here?”
Atticus pumped the device faster, and when it hit the right spot, I clutched him and cried out.
The pulses hit me fast and hard, yet somehow it wasn’t enough.
He kissed my lips softly. “If you were mine, I would pleasure you nightly until your legs quivered. You would never beg for more because I… am… your… slave.”
The vibrator pulsed as he stroked my sex, drawing out the most intense orgasm.
“Don’t fight it,” he growled. “Come harder.”
One wave hit after another, my body tensing, heat flushing through me. When Atticus put the vibrator aside and replaced it with his fingers, the touch of his warm hand wrung out the last one I had in me.
He scraped his teeth over my breast. “I wish I could taste you.”
I wondered what he really meant by that.
Atticus circled his finger and drew in my nipple at the same time.
When the last pulse subsided, I relaxed.
After he withdrew his hand, he continued worshipping my breasts with his mouth.
My heart pounded against my chest. I took a few deep breaths, completely boneless and yet wanting more.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Better than I’ve felt in ages.”
He lay beside me. “Intimacy is powerful.”
When I reached down and slipped my fingers in the hem of his sweatpants, he caught my wrist.
“Let me,” I insisted.
