There was so much I could say to him, but I didn’t. I stilled myself, even if my heart pounded in a wild rhythm, allowing him to do whatever he needed to do with me. This was as much for him as it was for me.
He reached for a bottle in the crevice of the tile, and after squeezing some in his palm, he started to massage my body. His hands were big, and he was applying just enough pressure for me to feel him, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the exact opposite. He was putting his fingertips in it, too, and all I could do was rest my head back and absorb it. I moaned, my entire body going slack, as the oil he used perfumed the air—a scent like mine.
A bouquet of subtle, fragrant flowers, with the zest of a lemon, and pulling it all together, a sensual warmth that came from woodsy scents. The warmth complimented the almost spicy bergamot, and it seemed to marry our two scents together in a union that clung to the body as well as the soul.
I could never smell these scents again and not be taken back to this moment.
He had only done my shoulders, and when his masculine hands worked down to my breasts, a soft gasp escaped my lips as my entire body trembled. Like he was molding a statue, he seemed to shape my breasts, until his thumbs barely touched the tips of my nipples.
A sound came from my chest that seemed to fill my head like smoke.
I was lost in it.
Lost at his touch. Lost inside of him.
He pinched my nipple, and I hissed, the pleasure flooding straight between my legs. My eyes barely opened to meet his lowered ones.
“We will never part,” he repeated, and he wasn’t a man to repeat himself. I’d noticed that about him right away. He said what he meant and meant what he said. “Even if we find our bodies at war. We will battle it out until one of us surrenders to the moment. In the next, we will be lovers once again.” His hands slid down my ribs, taking care of the place he felt he sheltered my heart. “Myrib.”
“Yours,” I breathed.
He took the curves of my waist, his hands big enough to wraparound me and make me feel insignificant, but in doing what he was doing, he was showing me how powerful I was to him. He was almost on his knees in front of me. And that was when I got it. The difference between the front of this chair and the other one. This one didn’t have a comfortable place to bow down. The other one did.
The king would sacrifice for his queen’s pleasure.
His hands slipped over my hips, and my eyes closed, moaning into his touch. I was tempted to move at this point—he was touching all the right places. All the places my body desired in that moment. Because my desire was following his touch.
He spent extra time on my thighs, but always only a breath from my vagina.
I was so starved for his touch, my legs moved on their own and slipped into the two leg-sized indentions, and I opened to him. A rush of air caressed my folds. And I understood then why flowers open to the sun, tilting in whichever direction it moved.
“Ah,” he breathed out. “Mine.”
My hips bucked up as his mouth came over me, his tongue licking, his hands coming up to my breasts, caressing just the tips of my nipples. My ass was sliding easily on the seat, my hips bucking.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!”
“Tell me, my wife,” he breathed against me. “Tell me, does my body please yours.”
“Yes,” I moaned out. “Yes.”
His tongue moved inside of me, before he started to lick, then nibble.
It took me a minute to realize my hands were wrapped around the bars, strangling them, but when I did, I moved them to his head, my fingers in his hair. My hips started to move with the rhythm of his tongue. I was easily sliding but not slipping. Everything about my position was prime for this.
“Mmmmm,” I moaned out. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Please. More. More. More. Just like that.”
“My wife is greedy for me,” he said.
“YES. More. Never stop. Please.”
He was giving it to me, his tongue working magic, and when he thrust his finger inside of me, then another, I bucked and started moving faster. I was almost coming off the seat while he was down on his knees in front of me.
“Tell me, my wife, my queen, what do you want.”
“To….” I made a garbled noise.
“If you could only see yourself…you are the most beautiful womanto me.”
