Electra Chapter 15 #3
I couldn’t resist his kiss any more than I could walk on the moon.
Immediately, my entire body became a live wire.
I gasped before kissing him back. That gave him a chance to sneak his tongue inside my mouth.
He’d recently had rum or whiskey. I tasted the slightly sweet, smoky flavor on his tongue.
I twined mine snugly around his tongue as I pressed my lips harder to his.
While we kissed, I sank deeper under his spell.
He befuddled my brain, and I wasn’t fighting it.
I had worked since the moment that I met him not to allow his sex appeal to distract me, but it had been an uphill battle every single time I saw him.
And all those hours spent thinking of him when we were apart, plus the fantasies that invaded my dreams, tested my restraint.
A third kiss broke the weak leash I had on my self-control.
I moaned into his mouth and threaded my hand up to the topknot he had his hair in.
He wore it that way or in a braid. I’d dreamed about what his long hair would look like, flowing free.
Feeling the band, I worked it loose, and his hair fell to surround my face.
I massaged my hands through the silky strands.
Swerve pressed me further into the pillows when he groaned and bore down on my lips.
He didn’t hurt me, but it did make me whimper in need.
I gasped when his hand landed on my stomach and wiggled underneath the hem of my top to touch my bare stomach.
He paused. I think he was waiting for me to tell him no. I didn’t.
His fingers grazed over my skin. Even though he worked in an office and on computers all day, his hands weren’t soft or feminine in any way.
They had a slight roughness to them, as if he had worked with them.
Goosebumps popped up on my skin at the feeling of his touch.
I’d taken off my regular clothes and gotten into a pair of sleeping shorts and a tank.
My bra was surrendered because I assumed he wasn’t coming.
I shivered as his hand slid up over my stomach and ribs to the underside of my breast. He stopped.
I assumed it was to give me time to object, but I wanted his touch more than my next breath, so not a word was whispered.
I whimpered in relief when his large hand moved again, cupped me, and gently kneaded. He groaned.
He traced around the mound with his fingertips in circles until he reached my taut nipple. When he grazed it, I jerked, and sparks of fire shot through me. I moaned and arched my back, seeking more.
A gasp came rolling out as I bowed my back, breaking our kiss when he pinched my nipple, then slightly twisted. Pleasure shot throughout my core, then out to my arms and legs, making my fingers and toes contract. Noting my response, he did it again, only harder. I whimpered and thrashed a little.
“That’s it. God, look how responsive you are, Electra. I wish you could see what I do. The color in your skin, the way your eyes are lit up. I’ve got to ask. Can I see you? Can I taste these beauties?” he asked, sounding a bit hoarse.
“Yes,” I croaked out weakly.
As his hand moved back to my waist to remove my top, I eagerly pushed up to help raise myself and remove my tank.
The cool air on my upper body was a relief.
I felt as if I was burning up. A growl came out of Swerve, then I was pushed back down, and he was looming over me.
I saw his face was flushed a moment before he lowered his head and flicked a nipple with the tip of his tongue.
I’d had sex enough times that none of this was a mystery. I wasn’t a slut, but I’d been with more than one guy. And until now, I would’ve said I’d had decent sex. However, this tiny amount of foreplay and how it made me feel was more amazing than the actual complete act of sex had ever been.
He flicked the tip a couple of times before he sucked, causing me to cry out.
As he made oral love to my one breast, his hand was busy kneading and plucking the other.
Those shooting beams of fire were hitting me from all directions.
My heart sped up, and I felt my core dampening my shorts.
I pressed my thighs together, attempting to calm myself. It didn’t help.
The next thing I knew, he switched breasts with his mouth and hand.
I tried to stay still, but it was impossible.
I wanted to feel him. I placed my hand on his back, ran it down to his waist, then snaked it underneath his shirt.
Running it up his back, I absorbed the heat of his skin along with the rippling muscles of his back.
He groaned around my nipple. Not to be outdone, and since I was allowing myself this one experience with Swerve, I requested something of my own. “Let me take off your shirt. I want to see you.”
Swerve was slow to raise his head, but he did.
Without a word, while holding himself on one elbow, he snagged his shirt behind his neck and yanked it up, somehow getting it off in a blink.
Before he could lower himself, I put my hands on his chest and pushed.
He took my hint and lifted himself so he was further away and slightly above me.
I hungrily scanned him. His muscles were even larger than I thought.
I knew he was ripped, but not like this.
He was a masterpiece of lines. To add to his beauty, there were tattoos on his arms, which I’d seen some of before, and on his chest. I traced my fingers along the lines of his musculature and art.
He shuddered, and a low groan escaped him.
His skin was such a warm, coppery contrast to my paleness. I’d always hated that I couldn’t tan.
Spotting his flat, brown nipples, I ran my fingers across one. He hissed, and I watched his nub harden to rock-hard before my eyes. Wanting to see it again, I caressed the other. He shivered. I had to tell him what I thought of him.
“Swerve, you’re so beautiful. Your muscles and tats are a thing of art. And your skin tone makes me jealous. What I wouldn’t give to have skin the color of yours,” I admitted.
“You’re the beautiful one, Electra—the way your body is put together. And don’t ever wish your amazing skin to be any color other than what it is,” he muttered.
“You don’t have to wear sunscreen and still get burned,” I countered.
“True, but I hate the thought of your skin burning. You have skin similar to my mother’s. She was very fair. I took after my dad’s Hispanic and Native American side. She used to bemoan that there was nothing of her in me. Dad always argued that the parts of her were inside, where it counted.”
As his words sank in, I was taken by surprise when he moved and captured my mouth.
Our kissing was even more desperate than the first one.
I fell back on the bed, bringing him with me.
He hovered over me, making sure not to smash me.
As he licked, kissed, and sucked from my mouth to my belly button, I put my hands all over his upper body.
My nails raked lightly down his back, causing him to moan and arch himself.
I had no idea how long we’d been at it when his hand slipped underneath the waist of my shorts. I gasped. Swerve froze. My eyes met his. The passion burning in his gaze was unbelievable.
“I’ll stop if you want me to, Electra. Is that what you want? Do you want me to stop?” he asked hoarsely.
I was so inflamed that if he stopped, I was sure I’d die. My body was no longer mine. It was his. All the reasons why this wasn’t a smart thing to do were gone. I had to have Swerve inside of me.
“No! God, please don’t stop. I want everything you’re willing to give me. I need to see the rest of you,” I pleaded, then a thought hit me. Was he wanting to quit?
“Unless you want to stop, then yes, we should,” I added, feeling uncertain. I thought he was totally into it and me, but maybe not.
Swerve growled. “Get that look off your face! I want you and more. I want you more than my sanity. But I don’t want you to have regrets, or to be turned off by the way sex has to be with me.”
His insecurity peeked out. I was swift to reassure him.
“Swerve, there’s nothing I can imagine turning me off of having sex with you.
I don’t care what position we have to do it in.
The way you’ve been making me feel is better than anything I’ve ever recalled feeling in the past. All I ask is that you direct me on what you need me to do. ”
“So be it,” he uttered before pushing into a seated position.
Next, his hands were on each side of my shorts, and he tugged on them. I pressed with my heels to lift my ass, making it easier to get them down. In moments, my pesky shorts were tossed aside. Not wanting to be the only one completely naked, I put in my request as he went to move.
“I need your pants off. Tell me what you want me to do.”
After a brief pause, Swerve answered. “The fastest way is for you to remove my boots and then pull on my pants while I take care of the undoing and pushing them down. I have to warn you, though. My legs and lower back aren’t pretty, Electra.
I have scars from the accident and the surgeries.
And my legs aren’t like my upper body. They’re not even close to as developed.
Even though I do exercises to keep my muscles from totally atrophying, it’s not the same. ”
I felt him withdrawing as he spoke. I grabbed the side of his jaw and made sure he was facing me.
“I don’t care about scars. They prove how strong you are.
As for your legs, I don’t give a damn how they look.
All I care about is that they don’t cause you pain.
Let me take off your pants, Swerve. I want to see you. ”
He studied me for a few heartbeats, then nodded. “Then let’s do this,” he said.
As Swerve worked on the snap and zipper to his jeans, I slid off the bed and down to his feet.
His boots had zippers, which made them easy to remove.
After they went, his socks followed. I had a funny thought as I saw his feet.
They were so well-formed and attractive, no weird toe hair or gnarly toenails like most men had.
In fact, thinking of the lack of hair, his chest was smooth, too, now that I thought of it.
By the time I was ready to pull his jeans off, he’d gotten them undone and worked them to below his ass cheeks.
He lay back to accomplish that. Hooking onto his belt loops, I slid the denim down.
His legs were the same gorgeous copper color.
There was no hair on his thighs. I saw the first scar right below his knees.
They were faded—the pain they caused was long gone.
When I finished removing the jeans, I paused to study his legs. Swerve watched me.
Yes, he had numerous scars, and his legs were thinner than his arms, though not the wasted husks he implied. The hair on his lower legs was dark yet very sparse. Scanning him from head to toe, I moaned.
“God, you’re so magnificent, Swerve.”
My words caused his cock to jerk. I hungrily focused on it.
He was even more well-formed and glorious there.
Somehow, the paraplegia hadn’t stopped him from having an erection, thank God.
I was dying to touch, taste, and then feel that magnificent cock inside of me.
Unable to wait a second longer, I scrambled up on the bed and wrapped my hand around his shaft.
Swerve groaned and closed his eyes. Smiling, I slid my fist up and down his long length.
The glistening on the head wasn’t enough.
I wanted him to be crazed with desire. The same way I was.