Those furrows grew deeper. “Right.”
“Or maybe I could sit in the recliner and drape my legs over the arms, and you could—”
“Geezus, Sasha.” A look of pain on his face, Darius took hold of his cock as if he thought it might otherwise explode. “I get the idea.”
Sasha couldn’t help but laugh. She ran a hand up the uninjured side of his chest, felt his heartbeat beneath her palm. “Am I torturing you?”
“Yeah—but don’t apologize. You’ve given me ideas.”
She liked that.
Then he went all serious. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then just relax into my arms.” He pressed his forehead to hers, wrapped his arms around her. “Relax, Sasha.”
Slowly, carefully, he bore her back onto the bed, his arms supporting her torso, his eyes looking into hers as they moved together.
When she lay flat, he stood upright once again, towering over her, his cock looking huge and hard against his belly. “Does that hurt?”
“No. Was it painful for you?”
“Not really.” He grinned. “You just relax. I’ll take care of everything.”
Damn.
She brought her feet to rest on the bed’s edge and let her legs fall open, gratified by the way his gaze moved there—and stayed.
“Sasha.” He said her name with such reverence that it put an ache in her chest. Then he reached between her thighs, his fingers working magic, rekindling the fire he’d just slaked. “You aresowet.”
“That’s your fault.” She’d expected him to enter her, but he didn’t.
Instead, he supported his weight with one arm, lowered his head to her breast, and sucked her nipple into the heat of his mouth, his tongue and lips sending little jolts of pleasure through her.
Sasha slid the fingers of her good hand into his hair, stretching her injured arm over her head—a position of total surrender as she gave herself to him. “Yes.”
But he was in no hurry, his mouth moving from one breast to the other, lavishing both with the same sweet attention, his hand still busy between her thighs. Oh, it felt so good, so good, her hips now moving on their own, her body instinctively seeking release.
Breathless, she raised his head from her breast. “I want you inside me.”
His gaze met hers. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
Keeping his weight off her with one arm, he took hold of his erection with his other hand, his gaze locked with hers as he slowly nudged himself inside her.
It was the most intimate erotic experience she’d ever had—seeing her pleasure mirrored in his eyes, being emotionally connected while their bodies came together, his gaze penetrating her while his body did the same.
He gave her a moment to get used to the delicious feel of him inside her. Then, without breaking eye contact, he began to move, slowly withdrawing from her, only to bury himself inside her again.
“Oh!” She couldn’t help but moan, the hard feel of his cock almost unbearably sweet as he thrust into her, stretched her, filled her completely.
He seemed to find his stride, falling into a rhythm, withdrawing almost completely before driving deep. Then he lowered his mouth to one of her breasts once more, suckling her, her womb clenching with every strong tug of his mouth.
She slid her left hand up his arm, held onto the strong curve of his shoulder, her hips rising to meet each thrust, the precious ache inside her already promising bliss.
He raised himself up again, holding his weight with one hand while the other toyed with her breasts, his jaw set, an expression of sexual pleasure-pain on his face.
