“Calling me Arden won’t get you what you want, sweetheart.” His hands were back upon her breasts now, teasing her hungry nipples.
“Lucien.”
“Yes, love?” He rolled the stiff peaks between his thumbs and forefingers.
“Your tongue.”
He kissed her, because he couldn’t not. “Mmm?”
“I want it on me. I want you on your knees.”
She was ordering him, just as he had asked, and he almost came, then and there. “Yes.” He sank to his knees on the thick carpet.
Yes, echoed everything within him. Lust, desire, passion, need, whatever one wanted to call it, the crescendo rose, undeniable. His heart was pounding, his mouth was dry. The scent of her, musky, yet with a fragrant floral note, hit him.
On a groan, he caught her hips with his hands, urging her toward his bed. With his guidance, she settled her rump there, then he made a place for himself between her splayed thighs, all the better to worship her. But he took his time, savoring. He flattened his palms on the insides of her thighs, caressing her, feeling the subtle strength of her muscles, so delicately constrained, within her silken flesh.
She was revealed to him, pink and open, like a blossom. Wet and perfect. His. He kissed the inside of each thigh as his blood thundered through his veins. Slowly, he reminded himself. Slowly. He wanted to savor her. To draw out his seduction, until they were both desperate, consumed by lust so agonizing, it could only be answered in one way.
Her fingers sifted through his hair, smoothing over his scalp. The simple touch elicited a frisson down his spine. A warm rush of pleasure. And it was not just sexual in nature. Rather, it began somewhere deep within him and emanated outward. He liked the way she touched him, as if he were precious to her. Or necessary. As if she cared for him. No other lover had ever caressed him with such selfless tenderness.
He rewarded both of them by kissing higher, dragging his open mouth over her sensitive flesh, until he reached his prize. He parted her with his tongue, ran it reverently over flesh hot and moist with her dew. She tasted all the sweeter for her desire. He licked into her, sinking his tongue deep in an imitation of what he would do soon with his cock. She gasped and arched into him, thrusting herself against his face. Her fingers tightened on his hair, pulling slightly.
The almost painful pleasure heightened his hunger for her. He licked deeper, harder, using his forefinger to pet her engorged pearl. Beneath his other hand, he felt her body tensing, the firm muscles in her thighs going taut. She was close, already, to climaxing. And he wanted to give her that release, wanted her to spend on his tongue.
He was ravenous for her, determined to devote himself to nothing but her pleasure. Mindlessly, he licked up her slit, his mouth latching onto the bud of her sex as his fingers parted her folds. Gently, he used his teeth on her sensitive flesh, raking them over the distended nub. He sank a finger into her tight passage, groaning into her cunny when she gripped him with her inner muscles. Molten heat, slick, so good.
He fucked her as he sucked on her, adding a second finger when one did not seem like enough. And she came undone beautifully, climaxing on a gasp as she flooded his fingers. He played his tongue over her lightly as the torrent of her release wracked her. On a throaty moan, she shuddered until her body relaxed, the tension seeping from her.
He stood, transfixed by the sight of her, naked, legs spread, her lips parted, hair cascading down her back. Her breasts jutted outward like offerings, and the need roaring through him to pin her to the bed and take her could not be contained. Had he thought he could protract this? That he could seduce her slowly?
Not a chance. He was not sure which of them was the seducer and which the seduced. His body was clamoring for hers. His cock had to be inside her. Now. He settled himself between her legs, his cock against her cunny, and swept aside the dark curtain of her hair to press a kiss to her throat.
“Lucien,” she said on a throaty sigh, tilting her head back.
He nibbled on the cord of her neck, bit lightly where her shoulder and her throat met. With one hand, he cupped a breast, toying with her nipple, squeezing until she moaned. He reached between them with the other, finding her slick and swollen flesh, teasing her bud again until her back bowed and she jerked toward him.
Tantalizing them both, he rolled his hips, running his thick length over her. He lifted his head to watch her. In her pleasured state, she was glorious, her skin flush, her eyes glazed.By God, he could lose himself inside her forever.
“Do you want me, Hazel?” he rasped.
“This way?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “Do we not need to recline?”
“This way,” he confirmed, guiding his cock to the delicious warmth of her entrance.Damnation, she was dripping.
“Oh.” She scooted her bottom forward, seeking more contact.
But he would not enter her until she said the words. “Tell me.”
Her hands had found their way to his buttocks now, and with a sound of frustration, she gripped him and drew him closer. “I want you. Please, Lucien. I need you inside me.”
She had not even finished her sentence, before he obeyed. Not hurried. Not deep, but deliberate, as if he could last all night. He was not a rutting beast, and he was mindful of the fact she was still a novice to lovemaking. His cock was large. He had no wish to hurt her. He withdrew almost entirely, then thrust deeper. Her sheath constricted around him, drawing him in. Her release had left her so wet, despite the tightness of her channel, he glided in and out of her with breathtaking ease.
Again and again, he plunged, then withdrew, each new stroke bringing him deeper, closer to losing himself completely. The effort to hold himself back made sweat pool on his brow and trickle down his back. Her fingers dug into his buttocks, her legs around his waist. Neither of them spoke, but their gazes were locked. Their breathing harsh. Their hearts, he imagined, pounded in unison.
No joining had ever been so personal, so intimate, so complete. He thrust deeper. Increased his pace in steady bursts, until finally, he was seated inside her all the way. She moved against him, a needy cry tearing from her parted lips. He forgot to be gentle when she clamped down on him hard, a ripple working through her and igniting a fire within him, which could be doused with nothing but release.
He withdrew, then surged inside her, again and again. Lucien reached between them, finding her pearl, pressing. Working it. He lowered his lips to her neck, sucking, licking, biting. Leaving his mark upon her as he took her body as his own. When she came again, it was almost violent in its strength. The spasms rocking her milked him, squeezed him.
