‘You made that up, too.’ My voice is reduced to a husky whisper as his hand brushes higher.
‘Did not.’ His finger ghosts between my breasts. ‘Cross my heart,’ he whispers, tracing the outline above my own. My skin blooms where his finger touches, and as it retracts, I catch his finger, bringing it to my mouth and kissing the tip.
‘I think you’re trying to distract me.’
‘Is it working?’ he whispers, tracing my bottom lip.
I sigh, sort of tremulous, when his finger pushes between my parted lips. Without a thought in my head, I suck hard, and we’re back to getting to know one another in the baser sense. Immediately, his body is over mine, pushing me down against the bed. His mouth slides against mine as he leans above me, grasping my hands and holding them firmly.
Firm.
The thought rises quickly, followed by a bubbling giggle, which I try to suppress.
‘Are you laughing?’ he asks, not without irritation, lifting his head.
‘I was just thinking how appropriate your name is, how veryfirmyou are.’ The giggle breaks free.
‘Well, do I liveup to my name?’ His voice rasps as he brings my hand to his hard shaft.
I’m stunned. I hadn’t meant it that way at all. Shock gives way with touch. I curl my hand around him, fingers tightening as he exhales, placing his hand over mine. Hot breath touches my face before his lips demand once more.
‘You have no idea how fitting a name can be,kitten,’ he growls thickly, my insides reeling eagerly at his tone.
His kiss deepens, tongue seeking mine. I’m done for, moaning shamelessly into his mouth as desire burns in my veins. I hold him; stroke him, my hand cradled in his.Holding the power, quite literally.His growl echoes in my mouth as I run my thumb over the smooth head. Encouraged, I flex my fingers and build a slow, stroking rhythm.
As he breaks our kiss, his eyes are like fine cognac, their liquor lustre just as intoxicating.Without warning, he moves from the bed, drawing me into his arms and against his chest. I wrap my bare legs around his waist, feeling small in his arms and sort of exposed, vulnerable. I find, with a tinge of something bordering on shame, I quite like the indignity of it. He carries me effortlessly into the bathroom, toward the shower space running the length of the room. I brace myself for the cascade of cold water, forgetting for the moment that even the cold water is more than warm in Dubai. The spray hits his back as he lowers my feet to the floor.
‘Turn around.’
His hands caress my shoulders and arms before he lifts them, wrapping my fingers around his neck. My breasts rise in the action, his hands splayed across my ribcage as they rise to stroke and cup. Our skins fuse in the humidity, my hands twisted in his hair as we stand chest to back, the air swirling around us, enveloping our lust.
Teeth tease my shoulder as he murmurs, ‘You smell fantastic, like cinnamon and sex.’
‘Body wash. And you.’ I instantly regret my reply, how unsexy it sounds. Couldn’t I have come up with a more sophisticated answer?
‘I like that.’
His teeth fasten against my skin in emphasis, and my resulting moan is throaty, the sensation echoing between my legs in an aching bloom.My body arches as his slick and soapy hands lather my belly, fingers bordering on the divine. I close my eyes and revel in the sensations against my skin. As he dips lower, his touch is a bare caress, rubbing soft, soapy circles close to my aching clit. I moan as he increases the pressure, my body jolting as his fingers agonizingly glide past it again.
‘Feeling dirty?’
The smile in his question makes me brave.
‘Filthy.’
And somehow, that one word couldn’t sound dirtier, or needier, as my hips buck, lost in the feel of him, needing his fingers everywhere.
‘Show me.’ Covering my hands with his, he places them on my lathered belly, moving them in slow circles across my skin. ‘Feel how soft you are.’ He glides my hands upwards, cupping my breasts.
His direction thrills me, heightening the sensations swirling through my fingers and across my skin. My breasts are full and needy, and as I brush my hardened nipples, I exhale raggedly.
‘Thou shall be my dear, graze on my lips.’Kissing a path from shoulder to neck, our linked fingers continue to soap my breasts. ‘And if those hills be dry... or wet.’ Fingers travel to the limit of my thighs and I can almost hear his smile. ‘Stray lower where the pleasant fountains lie.’
In the dim corners of my mind, I recognize the verse but beyond that, I can’t care. I’m sensation alone and wholly without thought as my hands stroke my folds, bare brushes at first, building into an unravelling, knee-weakening rhythm.
‘That’s it, just feel.’ His voice is a low, encouraging rumble. ‘Do you know how good you taste? How I can’t wait to feel you around my cock again?’ The words curl around my ear and explode inside.
‘Please, don’t stop,’ I plead, breathing rapidly. My touch is his, our sliding fingers a sensation like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
