Page 17

CHAPTER 17

NICK

She’s fierce. Strong. I sensed her spirit in the chapel.

I’ve wanted this one since I first spotted her on the threshold of a sanctuary. Hair aflame, magnetic green eyes atop a divine figure of milky smooth skin and curves.

Finally, she opens, and her sweetness is everything I dreamed of. As heavenly as she tastes, as intense my cravings, I will myself to maintain control.

She needs to gain her footing.

The agreement isn’t for me to do as I like with her body. No, she wants to use my body. And I’m game.

My body begs, eager, but I must take my time. Appreciate her swollen, wet lips, so full and plump. Her chest rises and falls slowly, as if she, too, fights for control. And fuck, her breasts. Those eager peaks beg to be suckled.

“How do you want me?” I’ll let the goddess direct this play.

Uncertainty flashes in her eyes.

Please don’t fucking change your mind.

My cock is so fucking hard. It might be a remnant side effect of whatever drug she dosed me with, but I jacked off earlier, dreaming of the sex we didn’t have. And yet you’d never know based on how badly I ache.

The pads of her fingers touch my unbuttoned shirt. The material falls off my shoulders. Her thumbs brush my skin, and my muscles tense with restraint. I want nothing more than to lift her, throw her on the bed, and take her.

I visualize the heat of her pussy so vividly my cock jerks. Likely weeps.

Her fingers fumble with my belt, and I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. But I’m not missing this. My eyelids lift, and I fixate on her slender fingers working the buttons on my trousers and the length of the unbuckled leather belt dangling in the air.

“You slept in these clothes,” she says as the zipper descends.

“Is that what it’s called when one passes out? Sleep?”

My trousers fall unceremoniously to my ankles. She’s not touching me, but I swear the heat from her skin imbues my briefs.

“You will not let me forget that, will you?”

Those hooded, yearning eyes are going to do me in.

“Does it matter? I’ll let you do anything you wish.”

Her lips curve upward, and her knees bend. Her grip on my briefs tightens, and cold air meets my arse. My dick protrudes, hard and needy.

She lightly strokes me, tentative.

I wish I knew what that fucktard of a husband did to her, but now is not the time to ask. I only wish I knew so I could avoid doing anything that reminds her of the past. Like cup the back of her head and push until I hit the back of her throat.

Her touch is so light, too light, really. But with her kneeling before me, I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

A slip of her tongue appears, wetting her lower lip.

God, I want that mouth on me. My knees and even my bloody elbows quiver in anticipation. But she rises and points to the bed.

“Lie back.”

“Yes, madam,” I quip.

If she plans to straddle me, she might need… “Can I do something to you first?”

She doesn’t speak, yet with the tilt of her head, and the drop of those strawberry strands over the perky nipple…I close my eyes and swallow. Focus.

“Can you lie back? Or sit on the bed? Let me pleasure you. I want to taste you. Bring you to an orgasm with my mouth.”

Her fingers brush over my chest ever so lightly, her gaze lowered.

“I won’t come.” It’s an admission. And a challenge.

“I’ll only do what you like. If it gets to be too much, tell me, and I’m on my back.”

With a slight nod, she crawls onto the mattress, giving me a splendid view of her behind and an earth-shattering vision of her on all fours. And with that comes a vision of my bruising grip on her hips as I pound into her.

Focus .

She twists on the bed, lying across it sideways, and spreads those lovely thighs.

Deep red trimmed curls surround her glistening pink pussy. I crawl closer, eager, nipping my way up her tender skin. I brush my finger over her, verifying that yes, she’s quite ready.

She’s ready, but I won’t deprive myself of her gift. I slide a finger inside her heat, studying her. She tilts her head back, eyes on the ceiling. I shift forward and taste. Her thighs tighten around my shoulders. Her arms lie by her head, uncertain, in limbo.

I close my eyes and lick, working my tongue and fingers in tandem. I can’t see her eyes, but I feel what she likes through the tension in her thighs and her soft mewls. As her knees rise and her hips buck, I know she’s close. I let my teeth graze that sensitive bundle, and she jerks.

Right on the edge, but she didn’t fall.

“Can we…”

She doesn’t have to say it. I understand.

“How do you want me?”

She blinks.

“Missionary? Or do you want me on my back?”

What will make you feel the most comfortable?

“Missionary…I think.”

It’s counterintuitive to me, but again, there’s so much I don’t know about her experience. Perhaps she never climbed on top of a man. If her husband was always forceful, then that’s not a position that would have likely happened.

I crawl up the bed. Cum leaks from my tip. I slide it up and down her silky entrance. Those green eyes watch.

Good.

The milky skin of her breasts pleads for touch, a reminder I have yet to plunder them. I pause, kneeling before her, and push up. The mattress dips with the weight of my balled hands on each side of her. Unsure eyes meet mine, and I dip my head, sucking a nipple, twirling my tongue around the nub. Her legs tighten around my thighs, and her fingers find my hair.

That’s it.

I alternate to the other breast, delivering the same treatment and receiving the same in return, with possibly slightly more intensity.

When I lift my head, she breathes out, “I want you.”

“Oh, you’ll have me.”

But first, I claim her lips.

This isn’t my normal. Kissing a woman isn’t something I crave during sex. For that matter, pleasuring with my mouth isn’t something I often offer. But Scarlet’s different, in so many ways. And I fucking love kissing her.

She wraps her arms around my back, and my cock buries itself in her hip. I haven’t claimed her yet, but it fucking feels like I have.

Her nails gently scrape along my ribs, and I break the kiss, panting, arm muscles quivering.

“Please.”

Does she want this to be over?

Her hips buck beneath me, and I focus on aligning myself. I watch as I enter her heat. Her tight cunt practically strangles my cock. It takes every bit of control not to slam into her.

But I take it easy, working myself into her slowly. When I’m balls deep, I can hardly breathe. She feels so fucking good.

“Is this okay?”

She opens her eyes. And I don’t know what I see. Fear? Determination?

“Move,” she gasps.

So I do.

“Fuck. You feel good.” It’s a confession, but one I’m not certain she hears.

We move in tandem, like lovers who have done this a million times and plan for a million more. But it’s not until I claim her mouth once more that I lose control, lose focus, and empty everything inside her.

I collapse beside her. A light sheen of perspiration coats our skin. Our breaths, once short and fast, slow. Her lips curl upward, smiling at me. Is that relief?

“Did you…” I don’t think she did, but there’s no point in putting her on the spot. Next time I’ll do a better job, pay closer attention.

Her fingers touch my skin, graze through my beard, and tug. “I enjoyed it. That was…freeing.”

I tug her to me, into my chest. The beating of her heart penetrates my chest. And then I do something highly uncharacteristic of me after sex, but it’s the only thing I want.

I kiss her.