29 Imogen #4
Strong fingers ran across the inside of my open thighs, kneaded the curved outside of my hips. He met my eye. “You’ll have it.” The words rolled like thunder. “Whatever you want, I’ll see that you’ll have it.”
My heart twinged, wanting so badly to believe him. “Don’t make promises, Theo.” I reached for him, and he came over me easily, pressing his bare chest fully to mine. I kissed him, deeply, wildly.
He made a soothing sound, a low, reproachful hum, then took my chin into his hand and locked our gazes. “I’ll make you a thousand more.” I opened my mouth to argue, and a full smile lit his face. “Don’t talk, Imogen.”
An easy laugh escaped me. “Theo—”
He pressed his mouth to mine in a long kiss. “My name I’ll allow.”
He was graceful and quick as his muscled body raked down mine. He gripped one of my thighs in each of his hands and I gasped as he forced them back. A rough cheek brushed my inner leg, and he whispered, “Gods, you’re pretty.”
There was no teasing, but he did go slow, just as he’d said he would.
A shaky moan filled my chest as he licked right up the center of me with a hot swipe.
His pace was maddeningly steady, alternating between using his tongue and lips, kissing and sucking, until every thought of our future and impossible promises and missing draughts misted away.
He reached up and twisted his fist into the chemise around my waist, making it tight, then used it to rock me down, increasing the pressure between us for a moment, only to sway me back a beat later.
I waited for him to pull me close again, but he never did. “Please,” I begged, panting.
He stopped just long enough to speak. “What did you want, love?” His tongue returned to me in the slowest slide, his hold tightening once again so I couldn’t move myself closer. He gave me nothing but a low laugh when I squirmed.
“Too slow,” I managed to say.
“Mmmm. We can’t have that.”
With his sturdy hold on the chemise, he rocked me back and forth against his diligent, talented mouth.
I breathed deeply through the pressure vining through me, until finally I no longer wanted him to be in control.
I fisted his hair, propping on an elbow and arching deeply as I set my own pace against him.
A gravelly, appreciative groan filled his chest.
My entire body pulled taut. My cry was soft, but Theo’s hand came up to stifle the sound regardless.
I nipped at his palm as my body quivered.
He didn’t relent until I’d collapsed back on the furs, gasping.
I felt both vast and contained. I’d been reduced to a heap of sensation, thrown outside of my body and mercifully, wonderfully trapped within it.
I heard his deep laugh. Felt his lips press a firm kiss to the inside of my thigh. “Are you all right?” he asked, proud and mocking, looming over me with his hard length in his fist.
“Wonderful.”
He smiled, then set himself against me, but I shook my head. “Not yet,” I said softly, taking him into my hand and stroking.
He sucked in a breath. “What would you like to do instead?”
“Kiss you.” He lowered his lips to mine in a painfully decadent kiss that made me feel like I’d burned up and turned to smoke. It grew deep and lavish, teeth dragging across lips, tongues swiping languidly, until I forced my mouth away. I moaned against his mouth, and whispered, “Not there.”
I enjoyed his sharp intake of air as I moved and took him back into my hands.
With my lips first, I dragged down his silken skin, then back up with my tongue.
It was the softened look on his face that undid me.
The untroubled bliss upon features that were usually so stern and controlled.
His hands ran though my hair, bundling all of it into a fist. He looped it around his knuckles and guided me with care until his breathing was ragged and his body tense. “Imogen. Fuck…”
Suddenly, he pulled me away, letting my hair fall in a cascade. “Now,” he said in a tight voice.
This time I didn’t stop him. He pushed myself back into the furs, lifted both my legs, and threw them over his shoulders. When I reached for him, he took my wrists and pinned them to either side of my head. He dominated me entirely. I made a little sound of protest.
He spoke in a strain. “Darling, I’m trying to make this last.”
Though he trembled from his control, he took his time pressing himself against me, gliding along my opening in a teasing caress. I whimpered, trying to move to him, but I could get no purchase with the way he held me. Another tease of pressure as he drew himself along me.
“Damn you… please.”
“What is it you want, Imogen?” He pressed into me, just barely, and held still. “This?”
“Yes.”
He pulled back out, and even slower than the first time pushed himself in and in. Slowly, agonizingly, until he could go no more. “Yes?”
My yes was a squeak of trembling air.
The smile that curved his lips was so wickedly satisfied, so full of intent and desire, that I shuddered. He pulled out again, all the way. “Good.” As he began to slowly enter me again, he bent closer to speak into my ear. “Would you like to know all the places I’m going to make love to you?”
“I…” I couldn’t form words. Thoughts. He thrust the last few inches in hard, as if demanding my answer. “Gods. Yes… Tell me.”