Chapter 10 #2
The praise sparked an urgency inside her—a specific need to pleasure him.
Her tongue explored him—licking…stroking…
It would know him by taste. Long, masculine fingers ruffled through her hair as she took him into her mouth.
Slowly, her tongue swirled around the thick crown.
Salty…musky…him. She angled subtly, enough to take him deeper, and a groan born of ache and pleasure poured from his parted lips as his hand tightened around her hair.
Startled—really, she and his shaft were just getting acquainted—she lifted her gaze and met Blaze’s. What torture she read in those gray depths. “Remember that little conversation about stamina?”
“Mm-hmm,” came her muffled response.
“Well, if you keep that up, you’ll miss the ride.”
Oh.
He would spend.
That was what he was saying.
Slowly, she slid her mouth from him, and he groaned as if in the most exquisite pain. Truly, she admired his forbearance. Minutes ago, she wouldn’t have possessed the strength to ask him to stop before she’d achieved release.
After one last, parting lick up his shaft, she slowly crawled up his supine body. Propped onto his elbows, he held her gaze. “Now, the ride can begin.”
The arrogant smile that lit her sex on fire tipped to one side of his mouth as he reached for her with one hand and used the other to turn them, so he was propped against the settee and she was atop him, straddling him.
The air between them grew more intimate as she hovered above his manhood, his head angled back so he could hold her gaze as he took himself in hand and brushed his length across her slit. “Oh, that feels so good,” she moaned.
He was at the entrance of her sex, and the world stopped. It was only a ragged mingling of their breath…a hold of their eyes…as he touched—pressed—at that most intimate of places. But he went no farther—and she understood.
If they were to go to this place, it was her choice to take them there.
Slowly, she lowered. For an uncertain moment, a fear took hold that he wouldn’t be able to enter her.
He was surely too big. Then her sex relented and allowed him entry, one inch at a time, stretching around him.
There was some discomfort, a little pain, too—and she’d expected that—but novel.
A pain her body didn’t reject, but, somehow, craved more of.
“We can take this ride slow,” he rasped in her ear, his long-fingered hands tight around her waist.
And deliberately, he took her, impaling her with intention. When she thought that was the end of him, he gave her yet more. Oh, my.
She’d thought it would be a frenzied act. But it wasn’t. As he moved inside her with both force and care, it was connection and intimacy. How was it she and he could be sharing each other’s bodies…could be sharing this?
She hadn’t been prepared for all the emotion flowing through this feeling. She’d thought the act itself would be purely of the body. A romp. And even as an act purely of the body, she saw why people risked so much to experience it with the object of their desire. Because, oh, it felt good.
But there was all that other feeling, too, wasn’t there?
Feeling beyond hedonism.
A revelation.
That was what this was.
Her body, in unison with the universe, was revealing something precious to her.
It was about her—it was about Blaze…
What he was to her—what they were to each other.
And what they became when they were with each other.
An urgency began to build inside her. She knew this feeling, for his tongue had brought it to her, but now it was his shaft.
Harder, she came down on him—and again. Now came the frenzy as her body demanded she take what he so freely offered, her body pushing through that initial pain of the first time and into this place of pleasure and need and utter ache.
He tugged her face down and kissed her long and thorough, like only he could do, as he took control of the motion. He would bring her there, that was what he was telling her without words. Somehow, the two of them—two people so very full of words—no longer needed them.
Not with each other.
The climax that had been teasing just out of reach grabbed hold of her and dragged her over the edge, release cresting through her. She cried out, even as Blaze penetrated her deeper. Then he was lifting her off him, and she was gasping at the loss.
He took himself in hand—those long, capable fingers closed tight around his shaft—and stroked himself, his gaze fast on her.
Her mouth, to be precise.
Driven by this madness, she angled down and touched her tongue to his shaft. “Oh, Viveca,” scraped across his throat, “what are you trying to do to me?”
As he stroked himself, with his other hand, he moved her head away, and an instant later, he was shouting his release to the ceiling, as he spilled on his stomach and collapsed back, a vision of sated male beauty.
She grabbed the nearest article of clothing—a shirt—and swiped it across his ridged stomach.
Their eyes met and held. She opened her mouth.
There was so much she wanted to say to him, but he reached out, took the nape of her neck in hand, and shook his head.
“Shh.” And he brought her head to his chest.
Resistance didn’t occur to her as she settled against him, the strong beat of his heart soothing her into a state situated between waking and sleep—a sort of oblivion.
What she had to say would keep for a while longer.
But it would be said before this night was through.