26. Stefi
26
STEFI
I t’s still dark when I wake up. I start to grope for my phone to see what time it is, but then I remember I don’t have one. The room is silent, and the only illumination comes from the faint, flickering light thrown from the fire. My ankle throbs and my back hurts from sleeping on the ground. The parts of my body that are in contact with Joao are burning up, and everything else is a little chilly.
“Can’t sleep?” Joao asks.
“No,” I admit. “My ankle’s bothering me a little. I guess the mead wore off. I didn’t realize you were awake.”
“You sound cold.” He wraps his arm around me and tucks me against his body. I become gradually aware of his erection pressing against my ass. I wriggle against it experimentally, and he groans. “Ignore it,” he says. “When it comes to you, my cock only has two settings. Aroused and painfully aroused. You’re exhausted, hurt, and a little drunk. I’m not making a move on you tonight; I’m not that much of an asshole.”
I turn in his arms and run my palm over his thick erection. “Can I change your mind?”
“Stef,” he rasps. “Don’t. I’m hanging on by a thread here, little fox.”
“You wouldn’t be an asshole if you made a move,” I say, stroking his cock through his trousers. “I can’t sleep, and if you remember, sex always helped me relax.”
“You’re in shock. You’ll regret it in the morning.”
“I’ve never regretted sleeping with you.”
His grip on me tightens. “If you say things like that, my self-control will snap.”
He tells me he’s about to lose control, and I want to see it happen. “I’m counting on it,” I whisper, tilting my head and kissing him on the lips. “What if I ask very nicely?”
“If you ask very nicely,” he replies, staring at me with his sky-blue eyes. “Then I’m going to say yes.”
And then his lips find mine.
He kissed me at the club, but that kiss felt angry and rushed. This one feels different. It’s softer. Sweeter. He kisses me as if he has all the time in the world. As if we didn’t just get attacked, as if we weren’t on the run. He kisses me as if we’re in a pocket of time outside reality, and nothing will be allowed to intrude into our domain.
He swipes his tongue along my lip, and I part them. His stubble rasps against my skin, and it sends a hot shiver through me. Earlier at the club, his tongue thrust inside my mouth with demand. Now, it slips inside, sliding against my own in a wicked invitation, and it’s an invitation I’m happy to accept.
Ignoring the pain in my ankle, I push him down on the blanket and straddle him. In this position, I can feel his hard cock against my pussy, and I want more. I grind my hips in a slow, deliberate circle, and he shakes his head and holds me steady.
“What’s the hurry, little fox?”
“Eight years,” I reply pointedly.
He’s unimpressed by my logic. “If we’ve waited eight years, then we can wait a few more minutes,” he says with ruthless determination. “I don’t want to rush this. I want to savor every single moment.”
His hands stroke the sides of my breasts, his thumbs flicking against my nipples. I gasp and he does it again, this time harder. My nipples are erect from the cold and very, very sensitive, and every time he flicks them, it feels like a shock of pure electricity.
I can’t get enough of it.
“Come here,” he says, his voice rough, pulling me closer. “Let me taste you.” He sucks my nipples into his mouth, nipping them with his teeth, and glorious sensation explodes through me. I gasp. Joao was my first and only lover, and when I let myself remember the feeling of a man’s touch on my body, it’s always Joao I’m thinking about.
But I don’t remember it feeling this good. This. . . overwhelming. “I like the teeth,” I gasp as he bites my nipple just hard enough to send a hot wave of pleasure through me. “It’s nice.”
“Nice?” he asks, his voice outraged.
He increases the pressure by a fraction, and I throw my head back. “Okay, nice might be the wrong word. The teeth are hot . You have new moves now.”
He laughs under his breath and lifts his head up. “I watched a fuckton of porn in the last eight years, Stef.”
A warm glow fills me up. “Me too,” I admit sheepishly.
“I learn something new about you every day.” He shifts me so I’m lying on my back. “I’ve been dying for a taste of you,” he says in a growl. “For six hours, I’ve been consumed by jealousy, envious of a fucking knife hilt.” He slides his hand between my legs, and I part my thighs to give him easier access. “I would have licked it clean if you hadn’t snatched it away from me.”
“I didn’t snatch—” I start to say, and then his fingers part my folds, and I can’t speak.
He strokes me, his touch light, and a shiver rolls through me. “Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, parting my lips and staring until my entire body is flushed, his voice thick with desire. “All pink and wet and slick.”
He dips his dark head between my thighs. I hold my breath in anticipation, but rather than tongue my clit like I expect him to, he kisses my inner thighs, soft and reverent. Once again, his stubble scraps against my skin, and it feels the way his teeth did on my nipples earlier, a pain just sharp enough to send pleasure curling through me.
“Joao,” I whimper. “I need?—”
His tongue flicks wickedly over my clit, and I forget to breathe. “Oh God,” I moan disbelievingly. How can this be so good? My body starts to tremble as he circles it with the tip of his tongue, over and over again, as if he can’t get enough.
“The taste of you. . .” He grabs my hips and pulls me closer, his mouth hungry. “I thought I remembered, but the memory is only a faint copy of the real thing. . . ” He slides his hands under my ass to hold me in place, and he feasts.
My muscles tighten and twist. My ankle twinges, but I don’t care. All that matters are the warm, wicked curl of his tongue and the hot, prickling pressure building up inside me.
Is it possible to die from too much pleasure? Because I’m there. I can’t take much more of this—it feels too good, too right.
Too damn perfect.