She speared her fingers into his short hair, loving the raspy feel of his beard stubble against her tender skin. Loving that for long minutes, too many to count in her fevered brain, he tended to her breasts. Not so much kissing them or sucking them or palming them, but making love to them until she was mindless with pleasure, her body arching and bowing, begging wordlessly.
A fine sheen of sweat misted her skin. Tiny muscles on the insides of her thighs quivered. She was swollen and yet empty. Overcome with so much pleasure and yet painfully tender.
“Angel…” Her voice was a rough parody of itself. “Please, I need you to touch me. I hurt.”
“Shhh.” Her nipple popped free of his mouth. When she opened her eyes, she saw it was red and swollen and glisteningly wet. His eyelids were lowered to half-mast, but they didn’t hide the hunger in his eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked for what felt like the billionth time.
“Yes. I trust you. Just…please.”
“Be still.”
“I can’t.” She knew her mouth was screwed into a pout. Her legs scissored together, trying to relieve the terrible ache he’d built. “I need—”
“I know what you need.” He claimed her mouth in a devastating kiss that was as deep as it was quick. “But you have to be still.”
“Angel, please!” She cried out, mindless to anything but her body’s hunger.
He laid a wide, warm palm on her stomach, growling his satisfaction when he found her muscles quivering. “Shhh,” he soothed again. “Quiet, my sweet Sonya. Be still. I want you to feel every caress. Every touch. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”
Well, when he put it that way…
Biting her bottom lip, she forced her legs to stop their needy movement and gripped his shoulders to anchor herself. Her nails sank into the tough flesh there, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the flair of his nostrils told her he liked it. And then, once she’d gone completely still, he gave her what she wanted. What she needed.
Skating his rough hand over her stomach, he briefly circled the hollow of her belly button before cupping her mound. She pumped her hips, searching for friction.
Again, he scolded her. “Be still.” But this time he added to his reprimand by lightly slapping her mound.
She cried out at the beautiful sting of friction, at the sharp stab of sensation against her distended clitoris. “Do that again,” she begged.
“No punishment this first time,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck, licking at her pulse point. “Only pleasure.” And then, through her cotton panties, he began to rub the distended bundle of nerves at the top of her sex with the heel of his palm.
“Oh God!” she whimpered as delicious sensation blasted through her like a shooting star. Her blood was liquid flame. Her body an inferno.
The steady, rough friction stoked her arousal to a fever pitch, and stillness was no longer an option. Her hips pumped. Her heels dug into the mat for purchase. The crotch of her panties grew slick with her desire, and when she didn’t think she could stand it a second longer, he pulled the leg of her panties aside and gently probed.
“You are ready,” he purred with satisfaction, one rough-padded finger circling her entrance.
“Yes.” She panted. Wanton. Completely abandoned. She didn’t care how she looked or how she sounded. “Angel, yes. Please.”
He plunged not one, but two fingers into her core. She hissed as he stretched her tight. But it wasn’t a hiss of pain. It was a hiss of pleasure.
Maybe she’d have her card-carrying feminist status revoked, but she loved it when he crooned, “Good girl. So hot and wet and tight for me.”
Whimpering, she elevated her hips, needing him to move.
“Greedy too,” he rasped, dipping his head and sucking her right nipple into his mouth at the same time he pumped his fingers.
And that’s how it was for maybe ten glorious seconds. Because with his grinding palm and his fingers that felt so good, that’s all it took for her to reach the brink.
“Come for me,” he demanded. “I want to feel it.”
Violent pleasure ripped through her as his words shoved her over the edge. She screamed his name as bursts of light exploded behind her screwed-tight eyelids.
Stardust… That’s what she was now. Splintered into a million bright pieces of pleasure.
Chapter 21
