Chapter Sixteen #4
He held her apart. A slick lap of his tongue over her nub again had her flying, her body twisting and beating through such acute delight that she called his name in shock.
The sensation built and built again as he touched his tongue to her core.
She felt herself hang helpless on the edge of pleasure, waiting, desperate to fall, each stroke taking her closer and yet spinning out the feeling until she was mindless with the driving need.
It was different from the feeling she had experienced earlier, sharper and crystal clear, almost too extreme to bear.
She chased the sensation, wanting surcease, desperate for it, and found that the more she grasped after it the more elusive it became.
She knew she was begging. She could hear her own broken words, feel too the curve of Robert’s smile against the skin of her thigh.
Finally, when she was sure she could take no more, when she was twisting and writhing beneath his hands and his tongue, she felt herself gather and fall apart at last, the force of it leaving her spent and breathless.
Hot darkness pressed on her lids. Her body still twitched and jolted.
It did not seem able to stop. She felt overwhelmed and yet in some odd way still aroused and wanting.
It was unbearable, as though she had taken all she could and yet still snatched after more.
And then she felt Robert’s tongue again, pressing down on her where she still pulsed, driving her straight to the peak again.
It was shocking, fast and inescapable and she came a second time, crying out, the feeling ripping through her as sharp as claws this time, painful in its intensity.
This time when she came down, the sweet sensual arousal did not fade but lingered, throbbing in every cell of her body.
She felt it from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and deep inside her, where the pulse of it still beat.
Robert was lying beside her now and his mouth was on her breasts, nipping and tugging at her, and each lick and slide of his tongue echoed through her down to her belly, where there was a tight knot of need.
It felt indescribable, hot, tormenting, unendurable.
She could not believe that he could keep her body singing like this, hanging on the edge of pleasure, replete and yet not fully satisfied, until she writhed with frustration, desperation.
There was no room in her mind for thought now.
No space for anything other than sensation.
He spread her thighs wider apart. Cool air kissed her core. She was so sensitive now that even that soft touch had her body jerking and shuddering.
“No more. I can’t...” It was too much. It was lovely. It was intolerable. She wanted to beg him to stop. She wanted to beg for final oblivion. “I can’t do it again.”
“I think you can.” Such a wicked whisper in her ear. “Once more. Trust me.”
Trust me.
He moved. The candle wavered in the cold night air. Ripples of chill covered her body. She lay, scarcely breathing, with pleasure suspended on the tightest thread, her body screaming for release.
She felt him slide his fingers over her. She was so slick now, hot and wet. It took no more than the lightest, most gentle touch and she came for the past time in a blinding rush of light that plunged her body into abject and total surrender.
She was not sure how long it was before she opened her eyes.
She felt exhausted, drained, her body aching in ways she had never known.
In the mirror tilted over the dresser she saw her reflection, hair tumbled, eyes glittering, a wicked wanton sprawled on the bed in complete abandonment, limbs spread, body ravished by Robert’s touch, his kisses.
She felt shocked; she had not known she could look that way.
She reached for the sheet to cover herself, but Robert held it out of her reach.
His gaze was all over her, hot, intimate, from the pink flush of her breasts to the spread of her thighs.
“Too late for modesty,” he said. His eyes glittered with possessiveness and pride.
Back in her right mind, she was horrified at her abandoned behavior, at the way she had begged for release, begged for pleasure.
Robert saw her appalled expression and laughed, tumbling her into his arms, drawing her close.
She allowed her hot cheek to rest against his bare shoulder and breathed in the scent of his skin, starting to feel drowsy, overcome by the sheer physical satiation of the experience.
“You’re pleased,” she whispered, and felt him turn his head toward her. “Pleased you could do that to me.”
It had not all been entirely for her pleasure, she thought. Self-denial must have been an enormous frustration to him. Pushing her to her limits, demonstrating his mastery of her body, making her submit utterly was some small recompense.
His lips brushed her hair. She could hear the smile in his voice. “It pleased me a very great deal,” he said.
“I liked it very much too.”
He kissed her for the whispered confession, but already she was slipping toward sleep, exhausted, the darkness washing into her mind. And for once no nightmares stalked her dreams.