Page 69 of Sigma

And for…him?

Thisman?

Then, he kisses me again, with his hands busily and hungrily caressing my breasts, and I whimper into the kiss and I kiss him back, because I have to—the need caused by the void in me is inexorable and unstoppable and it’s telling me I must kiss him back.

When he kisses me, when I kiss him, the feel of his hands becomes nearly unbearable—and I need more. The firm muscle of his body under my hands, too, is not enough. I need more.

I grasp his waist, stutter my hands across his belly, and catch at the button of his trousers.

He breaks, then.

Pulls away, gasping. “You consume me,” he murmurs.

I can only gasp for breath and stare into his eyes. He doesn’t return his mouth to mine, however. His lips touch my skin, just above the valley of my breasts. I can’t even gasp, then, when his lips touch between them—despite their size, my breasts stand out straight and lift up, tips reaching upward. Apollo buries his face between them, nuzzling the tender skin where they meet, and then his lips kiss the inner side of one, and then the upper slope—I gasp a sharp breath of erotic shock when he closes his mouth over my nipple. My eyes close, shut tight, and I dig my fingers into his waist, head tipping backward. His hands cup the thick, round weight of my breasts and lift them, raise them to his mouth. He nuzzles them, then kisses across them to lap at my other nipple, and then his tongue licks around the half-dollar circle of darker skin that is my areola, flicks at the nipple.

God, this sensation.

I want to laugh from the wildness of it, but all I can do is moan, gasp. Head tipped back, thrusting my chest at him.

“Oh, Corinna,” he breathes. “Such a goddess, you are. The things I could show you.”

“Like…” I swallow my choking gasp; I know what, I just want to hear him say it. “Like what?”

“I can make your body sing, Corinna,” he whispers. “I could make you scream until you faint.”

“How?”

He stands up straight, looking down at me; his index finger hooks in the front of my leggings. “Don’t you know?”

“Show me.”

His other hand wraps around my braid and palms the back of my head, tilts my face up to his. He’s not quite kissing me, but nearly. I feel his lips move when he speaks, feel his words as breath on my mouth. I’m writhing with the shaking intensity boiling inside me, the need to keep taking hits of this drug, this forbidden high.

I’m aware in some distant part of myself that I’m not thinking clearly—that I’m utterly consumed by…lust? Desire? Hormones? I don’t know.

“Are you afraid, Corinna?” His voice is low, rough, throbbing with power and with promise.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Of what?”

“This. It’s crazy. It’s wrong. I don’t know what I’m doing. I shouldn’t want this.”

“But you do know what you’re doing, and you do want it.”

“Yes,” I gasp. “I do.”

He places his palm over my heartbeat, mine over his. “You feel this, don’t you? Between you and me. Something is here, in me and in you. It connects us.” His lips touch mine and I respond instantly, searching for the kiss. “You feel it, Corinna. It’s energy. We share it.” He kisses me, quick and light. “Don’t you feel it?”

I’m shaking with it, on fire with it. “Yeah, I feel it.”

“You think I wanted this any more than you do?” He shakes his head roughly. “I didn’t. I don’t. This is madness, Corinna. I know it, and you know it. But you can’t resist it, can you?”

I reach up and dig my fingers into his hair. Shake my head and groan a negative sound. “No, I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

“Neither can I.”

“What is it, Apollo?”