“Cannot what?” He sounded amused.
“Touch me!”
“Where?”
Shame warred with curious need. He would not force her to say, would he?
He withdrew both his hands. She almost collapsed.
He would not deny her if she turned, and forced him onto his back. Neither would he offer this part of himself again. She wanted Ash. All of Ash. Especially the parts he’d kept hidden until this morn.
“My nipple,” she whispered. “Touch me there.”
He drew her back against his chest. Solace, sweet solace, to feel his warmth. He rolled her nipples through his fingers, grinding his cock against her ass. Visceral tautness stretched between her breasts and that spot between her legs.
“Do you still want?” he asked.
She nodded.
“What do you want?”
“I want your,” she hesitated. “Your—”
“What, love?” Breath grazed her ear. “So many words you could choose.” He nipped her earlobe. “Dagger. Augur. Jock.”
New wetness seeped between her legs.
His lips dropped to her neck. “Brush. Pleasure-pivot. Pump handle...”
She chose the one she’d heard on the docks. “Cock. I want your cock.”
His member twitched against her ass. “Lewd woman.” He traced her spine before guiding her down to her hands. With a nudge of his knee, he widened her thighs. “A lewd woman with a pretty vulva.”
Another full-body tremble. A limited vocabulary suddenly made sense. She was sure to be hot and ready every time she thought of his voice.
He ran a finger over her wetness. “Do you prefer Grove of Venus? Alas, no shiver. Shady Spring? Apparently, not. Quim? Yes, that’s better...” He lowered his voice. “Where should I put my cock, Alicia?”
She inhaled through her parted lips. Cock had been hard enough to say.
“I want you inside me.”
“Good enough.”
She fought the urge to buckle as all his ferocity unleashed. She didn’t care. She wanted nothing more than another thrust, to be caught up in a swirling storm of pleasure.
He gasped out words, punctuated by the slap of their thighs. She only dimly comprehended their meaning, though they left her panting and shoving back for more. Then, his hard stomach touched her spine, and he threaded his fingers through hers.
He shifted their weight on a single arm and forced her hand to her breast, and then further down.
“Make yourself come.”
She may have blushed, she couldn’t tell. She was past mortification and shame. She stroked with feathery touches, brushing him, too, where they joined. She was lifted like a leaf in wind, tumbling through forces she couldn’t see. Tiny sparks touched the inner corners of her eyes. She moaned and bowed her head, shaking in his arms.
He wrapped her hand around his tightened sack. His breath changed, and then he roared.
Even if there had been someone to hear, she wouldn’t have cared. This was a raid, a claiming. There was no place for prudence.
His seed spilled warm into her body, and, in the end, they both collapsed.
