Chapter Seven #2
Eventually, he used his fingers, too, and that was a whole different level of immolation.
It was too much. It was not nearly enough.
She found her body reacting to him as if it was operating on a different frequency than before. As if it had always known what it was meant for, and had been waiting for this.
I have been waiting for him, Aikaterini thought, and even though that felt like a deep and horrible betrayal of the whole life she’d led up until the last year, there was not one single part of her that disagreed.
And as if he knew it, he pinched the bit of flesh that seemed to want him most and she shattered once again.
Then his hands were on her once more, turning her this way and that, and somehow she was fully naked too.
When she came sufficiently back into herself it was just in time to look up at him as he looked down at her, kneeling beside her on the bed with that marvelous part of him still so hard and ready.
She watched him as he swept her from head to toe the way he always did, and his gaze grew hotter and hotter with every inch.
Aikaterini found that she wanted to preen for him. She wanted to arch her back so that her breasts reached for him. She wanted to question him, closely, on which parts of her he thought were as breathtaking as she found every part of him.
But there was no time for that.
Once again, he was coming down over her. Once again, he was finding his way to that cradle of her hips, only this time he didn’t rest there with that shaft of his pressing up into her belly.
This time, he reached down between them, wrapped his hand around that part of him, and guided himself to the place where he’d had his mouth and his fingers and had made her cry out.
More than once tonight. Too many times to count, in fact.
“I’ve tried my best,” he told her, sounding solemn when everything in her was fire and need. “But I’m afraid this might hurt.”
She had to fight to find words, because it was as if language had deserted her entirely. As if she was off in some other realm.
“I don’t care if it does,” she said.
Aikaterini wasn’t sure she knew what he meant about hurting her, but the sentiment was the same either way. She could not have stopped this if she’d tried. Mostly because she had no desire to stop this at all.
“If it does hurt,” he told her, in that same oddly dark, nearly formal tone, “it will only be for a moment. But we are not going to stop and dwell on it. We are going to keep moving and let the sensation sort itself out. It will if we let it.”
She focused a little bit more, despite how hard that seemed. “I didn’t realize you had a doctorate in deflowering virgins,” she managed to say.
“I have always liked women,” Kyriakos told her, with a curve to that talented mouth of his that made her body quiver.
“Part of liking women involves liking them in all different stages.” He pressed himself against her, only slightly, and she sucked in a breath.
“It is more accurate to say that I’m not afraid of virgins.
It is really not that difficult to simply take one’s time. ”
“I don’t even know what that means,” she breathed out. “And Kyriakos? I don’t think I care.”
“Nor should you, Princess,” he said, that curve in his mouth deepening. “That’s my job.”
And then, suddenly, with a thrust of his hips, he took all of that thick, hard length of his and plunged deep.
She arched up to accommodate him, sensation barreled into her, and she waited for some terrible pain to sideswipe her—
But there was none. And true to his word, he didn’t stop. He pulled out a little bit, then thrust back in again.
And by the time that she fully accepted that there was a huge part of his body now deep inside of her—
By the time her brain caught up with her body and was busy analyzing the depth and the fullness and that feeling as if he had taken her over and was filling her up entirely—
There was no place for any pain. There were only these flames that seemed to come for her from every direction, curling around and around and into her.
There was only sensation upon sensation—so intense, so ferocious—pressing in on her from all sides.
She felt as if she might explode again, but this time was different. This time it didn’t feel like any sort of cliff. This time she felt as if she might snap out wide and unfurl herself into the universe.
As if the only thing that was real, and even her anymore, was the part of her that clung to him.
Her fingers digging into his shoulders. Her thighs on either side of his hips. And that part of her that he plunged into again and again, gripping him like a fist.
She clenched down, and he groaned, and she felt a whole different sort of sensation flutter through her.
Because it hadn’t occurred to her that she could make him feel the same way that she did.
It was like kissing him, she found. She matched what he did and everything got even better.
Aikaterini lifted her hips when he thrust forward, and that made both of them make noise. She did it again and again until he dropped his head down beside her, wrapped his arms around her, and moved one of them down so he could take her bottom in one hand and grip it, hard.
It was beyond intense. It was beyond physical. There were noises and sounds, and it felt as if she had never understood the benefit of flesh before. Just as she’d never understood the point of her own body.
Because it was this. The fever of it. These moves that individually should have seemed awkward and even embarrassing, but felt instead like they were playing a complicated symphony that only they could hear.
Arias for days.
And this time, when she felt that wall of terrible, wild, glorious sensation coming toward her, it was almost too much. It was almost so scary that she let go—
But she couldn’t.
There was more of her that wanted to see what would happen than was afraid of what it would take from her when it did.
And in any case, the crescendo was coming in like a wave. Like a rising tide.
She felt her nails digging deep into his skin. Her head was thrown back. Her spine was arched. She could feel his mouth on her collarbone.
And then everything was one great, terrible, shocking roar.
It was bigger than sensation. It was darker than joy, brighter than fear, and an intensity beyond name.
She felt torn apart, as if every separate part of her was tossed out into its own night sky. She was scattered like stars and reaching out for some far-off galaxy she wasn’t at all sure she could come back from, and the only reason it was all right at all was because he was with her.
Because she could feel his breath against her skin and feel his body still wedged so deep inside of her, like he was a part of her.
They fell off the side of the world like that, they fell and they fell, for what must have been some or other eternity.
Maybe more than one.
And Aikaterini was not herself when she came back into her skin. She was suddenly only in her own body again. She was once again nothing more than the same person she’d been when she’d gotten dressed today.
It felt like grief.
Kyriakos rolled away, and she couldn’t understand the feelings that chased themselves around inside her and all over her. She felt as if she was plugged into some sort of current, because somewhere deep inside she was shaking and shaking and shaking.
His hand was on her face, and he turned her head toward his. And it was the touch of that dark hazel now, looking far too deeply inside of her. And she thought she’d never felt more exposed or vulnerable, but she didn’t look away.
Maybe she couldn’t.
Because Aikaterini took one look at his face, that remarkably handsome face that looked even more like a warrior’s now that she understood every lie she’d ever told herself, and burst into tears.