Two of his eyelids blinked, but his eyes held steady. "And this?"
Her finger moved to his bottom lip as she remembered what he had done to her, with her. She stroked the soft cream of his flesh. Basking in his watchful eyes made her feel feminine and beautiful. And he had never said a thing to her. No false flattery. No superfluous promises. He had no words-was only purpose and action.
She leaned down, pressed her lips to his without thinking or asking, needing to do it. She had to feel and taste him with her mouth. He made a sound that started low and rose to the roar of a rushing waterfall. Sitting on his chest, vibration went directly to every erogenous zone she had.
A noise of surprise escaped, then a moan, as pleasure and want drenched her. Her hips moved-she couldn't help it-and she wobbled from her perch.
Deft hands stopped the progress of her losing her place, but the blanket and hide fell away. His broad palms landed on her skin, just below the swelling sides of her breasts. A tease. Annabell wanted. A creature released from a cage, desire ruling her, she wanted his touch pressing in, touching, taking.
"You feel so good. Everything you do feels wonderful. How can it be this way? I thought I'd lost my chance at this." Not knowing how to kiss him properly—her lack of experience was embarrassing, and he had those tusks—she pressed her mouth against his in a clumsy effort, over and over. His bottom lip swelled against hers. Her tongue came out to touch and capture the shape in memory. Parting his lips, his own tongue emerged, the taste of him spicy, wild, and hers.
This was new, the Orki making her feel delicate and beautiful, building the desire between them with the exchanges of touch and pleasure. All of it was new, but yet not. This was the craving she had bubbled with for years, the unsatisfied want that had built and built up inside with no expectation of fulfillment. Time gave her imagination freedoms, confidence, creativity, robbing her of self-restraint and fears. She had never feared the Orki.
Leaning away from the kiss, she watched his mouth, wanting to see his tongue. The black and pale pink of it affected her, raw and suggestive. He licked his bottom lip, savoring their combined taste.
Humming, insides fluttering, she chased his tongue with hers. "Mmm. What that does to me," she said against his mouth.
He replied with a deep sound, his hands clutching her to him before he flipped their positions so she was on bottom and he on top. She squealed with the movement, eyes wide, but Doku-ni lifted a hand and brought a finger to her lips. As if fascinated by her, he brushed her lips back and forth in a light, intimate touch. Her heart leapt. Back and forth, watching her flood with unnamable wants. When she took a breath, he pushed inside her mouth, sliding over her tongue almost to the back.
This male kept turning her to liquid. The gush of it ran through her veins, shimmering in the light of his attention, and overflowing her core. Her body leaked moisture. She sucked at his fingers, though they were just at the back of her throat on her gag reflex, the need to do it, the want, a desire she knew was all her own.
Keeping his fingers in her mouth, he kissed and licked at the skin on her neck, her collar bone, her shoulder. She was so tender there that just his breath pebbled the skin and brought on a blush.
Arching and bucking, Annabell sucked harder at his finger. He was going to her breasts. Going to take the hard, desperate peaks in his mouth, going to suckle her. Pull, tug, hold her right there, one of the physical places on her body where she felt wholly feminine. Farm work, life, woe, accusation, six brothers, dead parents, and a husband who didn't know what desire was, had all in their own way tried to stamp out the things that she had always thought of as sensually, beautifully feminine.
And finally, she would get to revel in this part of her woman. Finally, she was wanted.
"Please, please, please," she begged around the fingers in her mouth, sucking harder. Hands on the thick wedge of his shoulders, Annabell tried to move him where she wanted him. Not one to be moved, Doku-ni deliberately slowed his activity, nudging and nuzzling at the weighty teardrop of her breast rather than using his mouth. His tusks were smooth but hard, and he brushed them back and forth against the sides, the undersides and the top of her breasts, twisting his head and holding his body up on his arms so that he could torment her.
Annabell writhed beneath him. That wasn't what she wanted at all. Unresponsive to her tugs, resistant to her movements and her begging, he lavished her with his attention but refused to yield to her demands. Unmet, her need grew. Her core clenched, and she felt fluid move between her legs. Spasms started in her belly, pulling contractions across her abdominals, and ending in her behind, lack of satisfaction becoming painful.
Unable to change his mind, make him do what she wanted, she began to cry.
He soothed her tears with kisses on the swell of her breasts and then all the way up to her mouth. He licked her tears, the sight of his tongue making her moan, distracting her from the discomfort of her hungering.
That seemed to satisfy him, because now that she was no longer trying to direct him, Doku-ni returned to her breasts. The first hot, wet touch of his tongue was a brand. Nerves she didn't know she had, discovered every whisper of breath, every drenching, basting of his heat. Trying to stay still, encouraging him with her moans, she cried out loud when he engulfed her nipple, sucking half her breast into his mouth. It was everything. Her body tightened and released in explosion after explosion, stars bursting behind her eyes.
The action yanked hard at emotions, needs. The pleasure, overwhelming. Annabell lost herself in it. Whimpering and crying as he sucked at one breast and then the other. He took his time, making her nipple swell, nipping, and tugging until pain spiked, and then kissing it away, only to start over.
It was everything she had dreamed of and wanted.
He left her breasts marked, raw, and swollen from the attention. Her hands found them, feeling the difference, pinching lightly, delighting in the echo that resounded through her body.
Kissing and licking his way down her body, he made his way between her legs, pushing them open wide. He pulled the fur and blanket to bunch them under her hips and adjusted her.
Annabell knew she was making noise. She tried to be quiet, aware that there were other Orki around them, but kept escaping. It was too much. Too wonderful. Realizing what he must intend, she trembled all over. Bending her legs over his shoulders, he centered his head between them, her center lifted up for his mouth so he could drink from her.
Long arms up her body, his hands climbed her ribcage, palmed her breasts. Gasping, she covered his hands with her smaller ones, pressing in. "Yes. Please."
Annabell didn't even know for sure what she was asking for, only that she needed everything. All of it. His hands squeezed, holding her breasts, his power restrained. The pain shot down her spine to that bump of flesh that currently held all her need, a ripe seed ready to burst. Moaning, she pressed his hands down, pressing herself into the harshness of his rough, battle-hardened hands.
He grunted at her, a loud sound to get her attention. Pleasure fogged her eyes, her brain, but she lifted her head, murmuring the refrain of, "Please, please, please."
His eyes were bright. Full of light and sparks. White with life, with centers of black that consumed her under the thick ridge of his hairless brow, speaking to her. His eyes said a thousand words, devotions, declarations, and ownership. Baring his teeth, captured in his hands, restrained by his gaze, her white Orki lowered his head. He showed her his black tongue like it meant something. Extending the pointed tip down, but not touching. Holding still, he told her things, but Annabell couldn't take it in, knowing he wanted something.
The monster of her own want drove her mad, though. It clenched and yanked in ruthless contractions. It trembled in whining, unfilled, must-have-everything-right-now demand. It ruled her.
Shaking her head, she sobbed, "Please, please, please. Don't know what you want. Don't know. Just do it. Do something. I'm dying. Please, Doku-ni. Need you. You."
