“I want you naked,” he said, and his eyes bored into her with a passion that was almost frightening in its intensity. It wasn’t merely lust, but something far deeper. Something that wrapped around her like a warm, fuzzy plaid. Something that she’d never thought she’d feel again: secure.
She nodded, and he deftly pulled her nightraile over her head, depositing it on the floor beside the bed. She was no longer on top of him, but stretched out beside him.
She didn’t have time to be embarrassed by her nudity because he was sucking her breasts again, lifting them to his face and nuzzling between the deep cleft. The scratch of his whiskers was a welcome friction against her fevered skin.
Never had she felt so cherished. He worshipped her with his mouth and tongue. As if trying to memorize every inch of her, he sculpted her with his hands, leaving nothing unexplored. The long, slow drag of his callused palms across her feverish skin made her prickle with awareness. It was exquisite, beautiful in its torture. Every touch, every move he made, was calculated for her pleasure. Desire gathered between her legs in a heated pool. She was warm and soft and desperate for his touch.
His lips covered hers again in a wet, openmouthed kiss that was dark and carnal. His fingertip skidded along the inside of her thigh. Her breath caught in anticipation.
“Tell me,” he whispered. She nudged toward his hand, but all he did was gently sweep over her with the tip of his finger. “Do you want me to touch you here, Caitrina?” She was in such anguish, her entire body shuddered from the feather-soft touch.
“Please,” she begged, pressing against his hand, craving pressure.
She moaned when he finally slid his finger inside her, bringing her to the very peak of pleasure with his deft stroking. He was pulling her down a long, dark tunnel of sensation where all she could think of was releasing the pressure building between her legs.
He murmured wicked encouragements in her ear, driving her wild. She was so close. . . .
But she wanted more. She wanted to share her pleasure with him. Instinctively, she reached out to take him in her hand, her fingers wrapping around his hot, velvety skin. “Show me,” she said.
His hand went still. His gaze met hers. “You’re sure?” She nodded.
Taking her by the hips, he gently guided her on top of him so that she straddled him with her legs. The feel of his thick, heavy column between her thighs gave her a moment’s pause, but all was forgotten when he moved her over his tip. Her body started to quiver as he nudged gently at her opening with the smooth, round head. She spread her legs wider and slowly lowered her body over him.
He made a sound that was almost pained as she sank down, taking the heavy head inside her. She stopped when she felt a bit of resistance and allowed her body to get used to the sensation of being stretched around him, trying to decide whether it hurt.
He held himself perfectly still, not moving an inch, though she knew that he was holding himself by a very thin thread. She could see the grim determination on his face, the muscles in his neck and shoulders drawn as tight as the string of a bow.
“It doesn’t hurt so badly at all,” she decided.
He made a sound that was like a strangled laugh. “I’m afraid we’re not quite done yet, my love.”
Love.She knew it was a turn of phrase, an endearment uttered in the heat of the moment, but it did not stop the pang of longing in her chest. “We’re not?” she asked.
He shook his head.
She tried to sink down a little more and stopped. “I’m afraid this is as far as I can go, you are simply too big.”
This time he managed to smile. “Words to warm the heart of any man, my sweet, but I can assure you it will work. I must break through your virgin’s barrier. I can make it go fast, but I’ll not lie to you, it will hurt.”
She nodded. Before she could reconsider, his hands grasped her waist, and holding her gaze, in one smooth motion he thrust up high inside her. Deep inside her. She felt a sharp pinch and cried out.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice tight with restraint.
Her body fought the invasion and her first instinct was to lift off of him, but he held her firm.
“Give it a minute,” he urged. “Try to relax. God, you feel incredible.”
He started to massage the tip of the opening between her legs with his thumb, and slowly her body softened. The sweet drowsy feeling spread over her again.
“That’s it,” he groaned, rubbing her a little harder. He was right: It did feel incredible, unlike anything she’d ever imagined. She never thought she could feel this close to someone. He seemed to fill her, his manhood providing all the pressure she had craved—and more.
Her body began to move, lifting up a little and sinking down on him again. She fell into a natural rhythm. Never had she felt so free.
She knew from the look of rapture on his face that she must be doing something right.
As her pulse started to race frantically, he clasped her hips and helped move her faster over him. Churning, plunging, harder and harder. Faster and faster. Until . . .
Her body contracted in the tight grip of pleasure and started to pulse. It must have been all that he’d been waiting for, because she sensed him relax and let go.
