“Nah. Worse.”
My smile drops and my brows rise. “Worse?”
His hands catch the bottom of the shirt and raise it to my ribs. I grab the fabric, trying to stop its ascent.
“Hey,” I protest.
He pulls it hard enough to wrench it from my grasp. It’s over my head and on the floor in the span of heartbeats. I cover my breasts, not sure why them rather than lower. I guess because he stated his intent to suck them.
He puts his hands on my waist and lifts me, making my breath hitch. He holds me in the air, bringing his mouth even with my knuckles where I’m holding myself. He sucks on my knuckles, sending shivers of desire through me. “Move your hand, Raven. Feed me your nipple.”
I exhale in a rush, my pussy clenching. “Sasha.”
“What?” he asks, blowing on the back of my hand, which is wet from his mouth.
Gooseflesh rises on my arms. “What are you doing?” I whisper, transfixed.
“Getting what I want.” He opens his mouth, waiting.
I shake my head, but then I move my hand to cup my breast. I stare into his eyes and then at his mouth. Inexplicably I arch and bring my nipple forward. His mouth latches onto it, and I close my eyes as he sucks on me. It feels amazing and stirs something deep in my core.
My other hand slides to the back of his neck.
He takes more of my breast in, the suction rough. I press my thighs together against a growing need.
He releases me, exhaling and blowing on my wet flesh. “Fits perfectly in my mouth.” He turns his head and takes the other breast, making a pleased sound.
“Oh,” I groan, tugging on the back of his neck.
He doesn’t hurry, and it feels so good. I don’t want to enjoy it, but I do. My legs try to wrap around him. He lets go of my breast and walks into the living room, still carrying me. “I’m going to do that to all of you. Later.”
* * *
Anvil
I set her down long enough to shove my boxers off. There’s a difference in our nakedness, and I know she feels it. Without clothes, my every bulging muscle is on show. I’m powerful.
To me, she’s fragile. Small breasts topped with pink nipples. Slim curves. Smooth pale skin. Bones as delicate as a bird’s, as a raven’s. That nickname suits her in a lot of ways.
She shifts nervously.
Lust pounds through me.
I sit on the couch and beckon her to me. I fist my cock. “Climb on. You’re going to ride me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She mounts the couch and straddles my hips.
As soon as she lowers herself, she sucks in a breath, her eyes widening. She bites her lip as she impales herself on my cock. I stretch her and push against her womb. She’s soft and wet, squeezing me tight.
“Oh, God,” she whispers and then groans. “That hurts and feels good. No, too much,” she says, pushing herself up, so only the head’s inside.
I fist my hands, working to control myself.
She tightens her hands, scraping my chest with her nails. I pull her forward and kiss her long and deep, savoring this.
Then I lean back, my hands under her ass, guiding her back down. She’s slippery, but tight. The snug grip is perfect, and so is the view.
“Sasha,” she gasps.
