Chapter 35
His hands were on my face, mine wrapped around his wrists.
He pushed me back with ease, and my legs moved in perfect rhythm with his.
I was inside my room again, and the door swung closed behind him, and March didn’t stop.
He kissed me and pushed me and pressed his body against mine until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed.
Then he let go of me, lips and face and all, and watched me fall.
My body could have been possessed.
I was wearing that same nightgown again, black with lace and velvet, and the way he looked down at my body underneath it could have been a figment of my imagination.
March stood there at the edge of the bed, his legs between mine, and he breathed deeply, heavily, like he’d been running for hours as he analyzed me.
He was wearing a red shirt and black pants, and his hair was all over the place—he must have already bathed.
He pushed it back with his hands almost roughly, like he didn’t want a single strand to fall in his eyes just now.
The parts of me that tried to make me stop this before it went too far faded so quickly, along with the parts that insisted this was just a game to March. That he was using me somehow, that he had openly told me he didn’t trust me.
But then he climbed on the bed.
He put his knees on either side of my thighs, and he bent over me, grabbed my hands, pulled them up over my head. His fingers intertwined with mine and he held me down with his eyes alone, brown and red, like melted chocolate with rubies swirling on it.
“Tell me this isn’t what you want.”
His voice was thick, hoarse, breathless.
My mouth opened to say I don’t, just to spite him, if nothing else, but I found I couldn’t. I found my body disobeyed me once again. It didn’t want to say those words.
“Tell me, Velvet. Say it,” he insisted, and I shook my head.
“No.” I wasn’t going to lie to him, not right now. I wasn’t going to lie to myself. I’d already surrendered.
A grin so wicked it made my heart skip a second. “Gotcha,” March said.
Then he fell on top of me and claimed my mouth again.
His kiss was furious, just like the look in his eyes. Just like the way he squeezed my hands. Just like the way he thrust his hips against mine.
I wrapped my legs around his hips like I was made for it.
Holy Hour, the taste of his tongue was otherworldly.
Whatever he was made of, his seconds and mine were of the same minute.
I stepped into my skin and wore myself from the beginning as he bit me, sucked on my lips, thrust his tongue all the way to the back of my throat, mad with need.
Here, underneath him, I didn’t need to think.
There were no memories I couldn’t reach, no part of me that was empty.
I’d been a fool not to have opened that door sooner.
Then March stopped kissing me.
A cry ripped out of my throat in complaint, but he let go of me and rose up on his knees, my body between his legs, his hands on my waist, over my nightgown, moving up to my chest. My own hands were on his, up his arms and to his biceps, to his curves and satin smooth skin.
“I’m going to take your clothes off now, Velvet,” he said and started to pull up the hem of my nightgown that had gathered around my thighs, barely covering my panties. I was breathing so heavily I had no chance of answering.
“And I’m going to taste every inch of you,” he continued, growling when he pulled the nightgown up to my belly button and saw my black panties, soaked. “I’m going to learn your body from the beginning all over again, just to make sure I don’t miss anything.” He stopped. Looked at me. “That okay?”
Time’s Teacups, I cried out yes so fast I took myself by surprise.
The smile that broke on his face could have been pure evil if I wasn’t so turned on.
But March pushed my nightgown over my breasts, then lowered down and licked a straight line from my belly button and to my chest slowly.
My eyes turned in their sockets. He kissed his way left and took my nipple in his mouth, sucked gently at first, his moan as loud as my own, then bit hard enough that the pain felt like fireworks all over my body.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” he whispered, kissing my other breast, licking the soft skin, grazing it with his teeth, teasing me. “Fuck, sweeter than cake. Better than velvet.” Kiss, kiss, kiss. “So much better than velvet…”
His lips were like small prayers every time they connected with my skin. I never even considered anyone could possibly need to be worshipped in this way before, but I was. I was burning, and the fire in my veins could only be fought with the fire in March’s breath.
It was a bloody battle.
His teeth were imprinted all over me. The feel of his tongue on my breasts, on my stomach, became so familiar so suddenly, I must have lived every day of my life drowned in the sensation.
March had rolled my nightgown all the way to my chest, and his hands roamed up and down my body, touching every inch of me, and he went lower and lower with each kiss.
His lips were just over the line of my panties. My hips moved up and down, long out of my control, and the need to feel him was a foreign monster eating away at my rational mind. Especially when I felt his fingers hooking on the sides of my panties, and he pulled them down my hips.
My fingers were in his hair. I pushed him down on my body with all my strength, but he stopped me.
He was stronger than me, and he was still in control of himself, not a feral animal like me.
He took his time in kissing my pelvis and pulling my panties lower and lower while chasing each new inch of skin with his lips.
I was shaking with pleasure.
March pulled himself off me for a moment, and my eyes opened, and his face was worth a thousand years. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression serious, almost dangerous as he looked at me, half in awe, half like he was accusing me.
“How did you get under my skin, Velvet?” he said almost hatefully as he pulled the shirt off his body, then threw it to the side.
Seeing him half naked became so much more important than breathing.
Time’s Teeth, he was perfect. His skin looked smooth, golden in the dying sunlight that fell on his side from the windows, the curly hair on his chest shaped almost like a perfect heart.
His every muscle was defined, and he was even bigger and better built than his clothes had let me see, and it made sense.
He made sense because he fit in his own skin in my eyes—yes, this is correct.
Yes, this is how he’s supposed to be. Like I remembered every line and curve on him, even if I didn’t know it.
“You lay there and you look so innocent,” March said as he ran his hands up my thighs, to my stomach and my breasts, then down again, pulling my panties lower. Meanwhile I lay there and took it, drank in the sight of him, still completely surrendered.
“I’m not innocent,” I breathed. I didn’t feel innocent, and I didn’t want to be innocent. I wanted to be in this with him all the way.
“Oh, I know. I know what’s between here…” March slipped his fingers between my thighs and slowly inched his hand higher and higher. I gripped the sheets with all my strength. “Let’s see if my tongue remembers, shall we?”
He pulled my panties off in one motion, discarding them on the edge of the bed. His hands were on my thighs, and he spread my legs wider to the sides as he lowered himself on the bed. His lips pressed over my pelvis, and he bit the skin over my hips—but his hand.
His hand closed right over my center, and he growled, and I moaned, and I lost touch with reality completely. It was the most incredible place I’d ever been in, and I never wanted to leave.
March muttered under his breath as he kissed lower toward my center, while his fingers tested me, slid between my soaked folds, nudged my clit with exactly the right pressure that I was a mess a few seconds in.
“The taste of you,” he whispered as he dragged himself lower, put my legs over his shoulders. “The smell of you…”
I wanted to call out his name, but my mouth refused to do anything other than moan, so I raised my head to look at him just as he raised his a little, then put those same fingers he had on my pussy right in his mouth.
His eyes squeezed shut. He licked his fingers and sucked on them so hard the sound of it filled my head. When he looked up at me again, I could have sworn he was in shock.
It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life.
For a second there, we were both unmoving, eyes locked, just waiting for what came next. I thought I should be embarrassed—his face was right between my legs, his breath blowing on my wet folds, but it just felt so incredible instead.
Then March turned his head slightly to the side and said, “I’m going to eat you raw.”
He buried his face between my thighs and didn’t come up for air for a good while.
His tongue slid down my folds, nudged my clit.
He kissed and grazed and sucked with exactly the right speed, the right intensity, and now I was shocked as I lay there with my legs over his shoulders because this was insane.
The feelings that came over me were like colors reflecting everywhere on the inside and outside of my body.
I became a fucking rainbow as he had his way with me.
As much as I never wanted this to stop, I didn’t last long—how could I? He knew how to lick me, how to bite, how to use his fingers, and even how to moan to show me how much he was enjoying the taste of me. If I lasted a whole minute, I’d be surprised, but I probably didn’t.
With my hands in his hair, I moved my hips against his face until I tipped over the brink with his name on my lips, set completely free.