He growled against her breasts and sucked harder, palming their fullness with hands rough with lust. Hanna couldn’t stop her moan, and realised with hazy shame that her milk was coming in, her breasts tingling in that way that signalled the first rush of letdown.
“Wait, I’m sorry-” she gasped, pushing futilely against the solid strength of his shoulders.
“Sorry, for what?” Alaric rasped against her breast, then he glanced up at her face, her cheeks blazing with desire and embarrassment. The man glanced down, noticed the dampened front of her shift, and Hanna watched with disbelief as Alaric’s gaze turned fierce, feral almost, as he tore the front ties of her shift apart and tugged the neckline down to reveal her breasts and dark pink nipples, still wet with creamy milk.
Alaric sucked air in through his teeth, and pushed her back all the way onto the tabletop, leaning over her with a wild expression as his mouth latched once more to her breast, sucking, tasting, biting lightly as her milk ran freely and Hanna squirmed beneath him in sinful delight, the sensations unlike anything she had ever felt before as he squeezed and licked from one breast to the other.
“Gods, you are sweet, Hanna,” he groaned, looking up at her with his mouth still hovering above her taut nipple. “I could taste you all night… here,” he said, licking decadently across her damp skin, “here…” he added, trailing his mouth down over her shift to her belly, “and definitely here,” he growled, his breath heating the skin of her mound through the thin fabric as she arched on the table from the riot of sensations.
Alaric dropped to his knees on the slate kitchen floor and grasped her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the table as his mouth fitted itself to her most private place, the shift plastered to the sensitive skin as his tongue traced her seam through the damp cloth.
“Alaric!” she gasped, her thighs tightening around his head as her hips lifted helplessly, her thoughts scattering as desire and fright mingled into hot, bright pleasure as he licked and sucked relentlessly over the bud of her pleasure.
“Your pleasure is mine, I will taste it all.” Alaric nipped at the tender skin of her thighs as they trembled and shook over his shoulders, then pushing her shift up and over her hips, he bared her fully to his ravenous gaze.
A sound rumbled from his chest and Hanna gripped the edge of the table tight, her breath panting as he spread her curls and slowly dragged his tongue through her folds, exploring every inch of her, circling and teasing the aching dip at her core and then, he pounced, his mouth capturing her bud as he sucked and licked her into a fever of pleasure.
Her hips rolled desperately, her body taking over and Alaric gripped her thighs tight, leaving her no mercy, his evening beard scraping against her tender flesh as he dug his chin deeper, his mouth hot and insistent until she exploded around him, a blaze of pleasure ripping through her fast and hot as she cried out helpless in its thrall.
Alaric surged to his feet and leaned over her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he leaned down to kiss her, sharing her taste with a sinful smirk.
His fingers returned to their mischief between her thighs, his mouth on hers as he tasted each sigh, each small noise of want he could draw from her.
“Do you need me,” he whispered, his fingers dipping deeper, stretching her, making her ache and throb and clench around the space she needed filled.
Hanna shuddered, closing her thighs on his hands as she gave in to the craving he had awakened in her.
She ducked her head into the crook of his neck, winding her arms around him as she tried shyly to find her voice.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered finally against his throat, her body aching, her mind bright and clear.
Alaric did not say a word, merely hefting her from the table into his arms, cradling her there with her legs wrapped around his waist as he strode from the kitchen for the stairs, carrying her up to their room.
He tookher straight to the foot of the bed, setting her down slowly onto the carpet and reaching down to finger the hem of her shift.
“Not yet,” Hanna managed to whisper, her heart beating a sharp tattoo in her chest, her mouth dry with anticipation.
Alaric took in her expression, then kissed her hard before stepping back and working the button at his waist. Hanna watched in awe as he stepped out of his drawers and stood before her, nude and proud. The low candlelight revealed his masculine form, throwing every line, every taut muscle into stark relief, his tanned face and forearms in stark contrast to the pale planes of his chest.
His member curved up towards his belly, thick and veined, and Alaric gripped the base and stroked it slowly for her, watching her face intently as her cheeks flared with heat.
He sat down, sprawling almost gracefully on the edge of the bed, his thighs long and lean.
“Come here woman,” Alaric said in a low tone, and Hanna stepped carefully closer, the tops of her thighs wet from her arousal and climax in the kitchen below, her cunny still throbbing, still needing him as is she had not come apart only moments ago.
Only he could give her what she needed.
When she was close enough, Alaric reached out and took her hand, pulling her closer.
“Sit on my lap,” he instructed, his gaze hot, holding her waist and guiding her onto him as she hitched her shift, spread her legs and straddled his lap. The movement brought her against his engorged member, caught between them and pressing right there between her thighs.
There, where he would take her, have her, plunder her and, lord help her, she wanted it.
In that moment, with Alaric’s lips and hands on her skin, Hanna wanted to know what it felt like to be taken by a man who wanted to please her.
His hands stroked up along her thighs, lifting her shift up to her waist so that he could look down and see their bodies fitted together, then with a swift movement he swept it up over her head, flinging it to the floor so that his hands could rove her body freely.
“I want to make love to you, Hanna,” Alaric whispered, rolling her breasts in his hands, trailing down the line of her spine to cup and lift her bottom, notching himself there where his fingers had stretched her.
