Chapter 16 #3
She had painted this very act—had captured it in oils and shadow, had studied the classical depictions of lovers in their most intimate embrace.
But no brushstroke, no carefully blended pigment, had ever prepared Darcy for the reality of it.
Nothing, nothing, had prepared her for the searing, wet heat of his tongue against her most intimate flesh, for the way pleasure ripped through her like a living thing.
Sebastian held her thighs steady while his tongue worked her quim with experience, devotion, and raw carnality, sweeping through her wet folds in hungry strokes and lapping at her as though she were the finest nectar.
He groaned against her flesh, the vibration of it sending shocks of pleasure straight through her core.
“Oh God,” she cried out, her hands flying to his hair, fisting in the dark strands. Her hips bucked against his mouth, but he held her steady, his grip firm enough to keep her open to him.
He sucked her sensitive pearl into his mouth, circling it with the flat of his tongue, and Darcy almost collapsed.
The sensation was blinding, overwhelming, an onslaught of pleasure that left her gasping and writhing on the cold stone.
He released her only to plunge his tongue into her entrance, fucking her with it, the wet sound filling the garden alcove.
She rocked against his mouth, helpless to do otherwise, her head falling back as the pleasure built like a gathering storm.
Darcy shattered, a sharp, keening cry escaping her lips as the first wave of release crashed through her.
Her inner muscles clenched and fluttered against nothing, but still he did not stop.
“You are so beautiful like this,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with reverence. “So utterly, impossibly beautiful. Wet and ready like every wicked dream I have ever had.”
He returned to her pearl, sucking hard, and a second release crashed through her like a wave, her body convulsing against his mouth as she cried out his name, torn from her lips in a broken, desperate wail.
Still, Sebastian licked her through the shudders, his tongue relentless, drawing out every last tremor until she was whimpering, oversensitive and trembling.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and she forced her eyes open to find him gazing up at her from between her thighs, his lips glistening wet with her arousal, his eyes dark and feral. “I want you to watch what you do to me.”
Still on his knees, he freed himself from his breeches, his thick, straining cock springing free, the tip glistening with his own desire. He wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly as he held her gaze, showing her the evidence of his need.
“Now,” he said, rising to his feet and pulling her to the edge of the bench. “Now you will ride me, Red. The control is all yours.”
Her heart trembled with need, softened by something impossibly sweet and tender stirring beneath it.
He sat back down upon the bench, drawing her astride him once more, the blunt head of his cock nudging against her slick, aching entrance.
His hands gripped her hips, guiding her, but he did not urge her down.
“Take me,” he murmured, his voice low and threaded with sensual promise as he held her gaze, his hands steady at her hips. “Take what you desire. Take me slowly. Let your pussy feel every inch of what I am giving you.”
Oh God. A sharp heat pierced low in her belly.
Darcy began to lower herself, and the sensation was overwhelming—the blunt head of his cock pressing against her entrance, the slow, inexorable stretch of her virgin flesh accommodating his thickness.
The burn was immediate and sharp, a searing pain that made her gasp and freeze, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“It hurts,” she whimpered, her voice tight with strain. “I do not think we can fit.”
His hand delved between them, his thumb pressing against the sensitive pearl nestled at the apex of her folds. He circled it slowly, deliberately, the pad of his thumb slick with her own arousal.
“Your sweet cunt is so wet for me, Red. So ready. It was made to be stretched. Made to take all of me,” he murmured. “We’ll fit. We can also stop and try another time. Tell me what you want, Red.”
Darcy breathed through the sharp ache, then whispered, “I want us to fit. I want you so much.”
He continued the slow circles of his thumb on her clitoris, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her and dulling the sharp edges of the pain.
She felt herself relax around him, her body yielding to the intrusion as the pleasure began to outweigh the ache.
She sank lower, another inch of him sliding inside her, the stretch exquisite and agonizing all at once.
“That’s it,” he groaned, his head falling back against the stone bench, his eyes squeezed shut. “God, you are so tight.”
“Is that bad?”
“No. It is fucking perfect. Ease down only when you are ready. Let your sweet pussy open around me.”
Darcy flushed with heat. She lowered herself further, the burning sensation giving way to a strange, full ache that was not entirely unpleasant. Her inner walls clenched around him, struggling to accommodate his girth, and she cried out as another inch slid home.
“Please,” she gasped, her hips trembling above him. “It is so much…”