She found herself pressed against thighs so hard it seemed as though he could crush one of hers between them, the flats of his hands glided, feather soft, down either side of her spine, his fingers tracing the bumps of it; down, down, to scoop under her buttocks and urge her up against his swelling cock. And when he did, her head went back on a gasp as lust spiked her. And yes, she wanted to climb him.
His hands traveled back the way they came, and cradled her head, he laid his lips against her throat, where surely he could feel her pounding heart.
How glorious to have skin, so she could feel his against it. Hallelujah, her mind sang. She had never fully comprehended what a gift it was that it comprised nerve endings. Her nipples chafed against his hard chest, lightly furred in dark hair, arousing her nearly unbearably; she turned her cheek against it and rubbed shamelessly. His torso was cut into sections of muscle; he was constructed of furrows, planes, and hard curves. She kissed his nipple, like a wanton, like she knew anything at all about what she was doing. The little leap of his chest when his breath hitched, his arms tightening around her, told her, yes, she perhaps possessed an instinct or two.
She wrapped her arms around his vast back and set her hands free, finding the ditch made by muscles alongside his spine, the little indents in drum-tight buttocks made just for her hands. His skin was hot and smooth. And his cock curved up toward his belly, harder against her, and when she moved against him, his head went back on a hissed-in breath.
Their lips met, and his hands moved over her, long drugging kisses that made her desperate.
Suddenly she was falling, it seemed, or was she flying? But when she felt the mattress beneath hershe understood she’d been lowered there, like a fainting maiden. For a moment, he stood, looking down like a conqueror, then he stretched out alongside her. She turned to him.
So odd that the sun was fully blazing into the room over their nude selves. She stroked his hair from his eyes.
“I hardly know where to touch you first.” His voice was hoarse. “You are indescribably beautiful. Every bit of you.”
“Everywhere,” was her whispered suggestion. “Please. Don’t miss even one spot.” Her heart was hammering. He would be inside her soon, which was what they both desperately wanted. But she was, indeed, equally a little afraid, and consumed with need. She trembled with the surfeit of emotion.
He knew. He was so gentle, so purposeful. He set out to soothe, to arouse, ultimately to possess. Gently, he drew his fingers along the inside of her arm, lighting every one of those cells on fire, showing her a place she’d long taken for granted was a pleasure to touch, and could arouse her when touched.
He lowered his mouth to her breast, and pressed his lips softly against her little birthmark, then took her nipple into his mouth and gently sucked.
“God...” she breathed, and arched into his touch.
His hand roamed to her hip, traced the curve of her waist, and his lips were fellow travelers. She sighed when his lips skimmed her belly, while his hands slipped between her thighs, stroking so lightly the shockingly tender skin there, sending rivers of pleasure to the outer reaches of her body, until she was made of nothing but pleasure. It was everywhere in her. Rising, rising like a flood.
“Dominic...?” she whispered frantically.
He knew what she needed. His lips returned to hers while his fingers lingered to twine through the curls between her legs, before sliding into her wet heat to take up a rhythmic stroking. She could feel his cock, hard, large, and impatient-feeling against her hip, and the swift gust of his breath against her throat as her head thrashed back, the pleasure building and building until her body whipped upward, a silent scream torn from her. He held her while bliss broke her into what felt like stardust.
He was shaking with need when he bridged her body. “Sweetheart...” His voice was shredded.
She slid her hands down his furred chest. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “I love you. I want you so much. You won’t hurt me.”
But her heart was hammering as she shifted beneath him so he could guide himself into her.
The glorious strangeness, the joy of being filled by and completely joined with him, stole her breath.
His eyes were shining with unshed tears as he looked down at hers.
She kept her gaze locked with his, her heart nearly splitting apart from joy and wonder, which evolved quite steadily into a fresh wave of volcanic lust when she witnessed him lose himself completely in her. Saw him, little by little, go mindless with the pleasure of moving in her body. The muscles of his back quivered beneath her clinging fingers. She arched to meet the rhythmic, languid dive of his hips. And she felt everything he kept leashed. The cords of his neck taut. His eyes black and dazed. His breathing a tattered roar.
He closed his eyes. “Oh God. My love. I’m...” His breathing was bellows-ragged.
Her hands slid down to his buttocks and she arched against him.
“Faster, please. Dominic. Please. Ohplease.” She was chasing her own release now, too. That she might get yet another one was quite a miracle she hadn’t anticipated.
In a mad, swift collision of bodies, of groans and sighs and gripping hands and oaths as pleasure built and built, they shattered together.
The joy seemed scarcely bearable. He thought it might crack him in two, but that was only because he was resisting it, as was his habit with any force greater than himself.
He breathed out and humbly surrendered. He felt as though he was indistinguishable from it.
She was curled up against him, her petal-soft curves tucked against his hard body, her eyes dreamy and sated, her arm draped over his belly. He possessively smoothed his hand over the pearly curve of her arse.
She rose up on her elbows to gaze down at him earnestly, gently stroking the hair away from his eyes. Her breasts now entirely filled his vision.
“Are you all right, love?” he said softly.
