Chapter Eighteen #2
His mouth closed over the sensitive flesh before she could register the shock of being bared, and she cried out.
He braced on one elbow, angling over her as he boldly claimed her, his tongue flicking hot and demanding across her nipple.
A jolt of sensation shot through her, setting her nerves alight.
She twisted, trying to escape the searing contact, but he stayed with her, refusing to yield.
“I—Please!” She struggled to form words.
He paused his sweet torture, lifting from her aching flesh with a gentle pull. “What do you want?”
Her thoughts fractured as he nuzzled between her breasts, nipping the tender flesh. “I… I don’t know.”
For a heartbeat, he hovered there, his breaths coming ragged against her chest. Then, his fingers skimmed downward, the magic of his touch dulled by the muslin between them. He paused over the juncture of her thighs and pressed his palm against the building heat there.
“Let me show you what I want.”
The dark promise in his words sent a shuddering thrill through her, and she managed a shaky nod.
His hand lifted, and she let out a soft whimper as the loss of contact doubled the ache there.
In an instant his touch returned, this time tracing a path down her leg.
Catching her hem, he dragged it upward, his knuckles grazing her calf, her knee.
She gasped as the bold caress sent a pulse of need radiating through her.
He slowed his ascent to a slow creep, each inch searing like a brand.
Until the whisper of cool air brushed against her most private spot.
His hand followed, coming to rest in the same spot he had grasped earlier, this time against bare skin. Heat poured from where they touched, radiating through her body, gathering low in her belly. He raised his head, silhouetted against a flash of light from the window.
“Is this…” A harsh breath shook him. “Is this alright?”
Alright?
This was heaven.
Her hand found his, fingers curling around it, holding him in place. “Yes.”
He pressed his lips to her shoulder and shook his hand free. “Good.”
One fingertip skimmed to the crease where her thigh met her body.
After an agonizing pause that stretched her senses taut, it sank into her curls, settling firmly against pulsing heat.
A throbbing pressure had begun to build, right there.
When he caressed her, the ache eased, but something else replaced it. Need.
She needed more. Needed him.
Her back arched her into his touch, a helpless invitation she couldn’t have stopped if she tried, and his finger slipped between her folds. His breath hissed out, “So wet.”
She barely had time to try and comprehend what he meant when he swirled his fingertip, a sudden slickness amplifying his touch.
He circled, dragging low and back up again, the deliberate revolution sending her hips lifting from the bed.
His touch hovered at her entrance for an agonizing moment, then pressed inside her.
She gasped, the feeling so exquisite she couldn’t breathe.
“Damn.” The soft curse on his lips escaped on a groan.
Her hands fisted in the sheets, trying to steady herself as her body reeled from the pleasure curling through her.
His finger danced inside her, each twist and turn igniting sparks that seared along her spine.
A heavy thrum began to form deep in her core, each sweeping stroke building it into an almost unbearable crescendo.
His weight shifted above her, and he drew his thumb over her most sensitive spot before withdrawing, the combination of touches sparking a hungry heat that burned from the inside out.
She let out a breathless whimper, ready to reach for his hand and drag it back, then stilled as the soft rustle of fabric filled the space between them.
He stretched his arms and a moment later, threw his shirt to the floor.
The rasp of a button being undone came from his waist, and he shimmied free of his trousers.
Throat dry, she lifted a trembling hand and traced up the strong line of his arm.
He stayed motionless as she let her fingers wander over the planes of his chest, the rise and fall of muscles beneath her palm sending her pulse hammering.
Curiosity dared her lower, toward the solid warmth she could sense, even in the dark.
The room lit, and her gaze darted down, only for the shadows to reclaim him before she could take it in fully.
She shivered, and he reached down and pulled the blanket over them, fully encasing them in darkness.
He settled between her legs, the weight of his manhood pressed to the apex of her thighs, the subtle pressure reigniting the ache there, fiercer than ever.
The overarching need for more consumed her, and she tilted her hips.
His length slid against the slick heat gathered there, and she let out a small gasp as he moved back and forth.
“Miss Ross.” With a groan, he rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged, shoulders heaving. “Tell me to stop.”
Stop.
The word sounded foreign and wrong. How could she ever ask him to cease? Her entire body vibrated with want, a yearning that left her dizzy. If he stopped, she might very well die.
“Don’t stop.” Abigail rocked her hips again and a tiny thrill shot through her at his involuntary gasp. She repeated the movement.
With a growl, he nibbled at her neck. “Any more of that and I won’t be able to.”
She turned her head and pressed her lips to his, angling herself to him. “I said, don’t stop.”
With a soft curse, he nudged against her, the heat where they touched almost overpowering as the tip of him slipped the slightest bit inward.
Her breath caught and her nails dug into his back as he shifted, the motion igniting her from the inside.
The pleasure he’d built between her legs had gathered into an uncomfortable ache and somehow, she knew that only he could ease it.
Lightning flashed, bathing his face in silver light.
In that moment, his gaze found hers, heavy and hungry.
She stared at him as the glow faded, then reached a hand out to cup his cheek.
Her fingers traced the rigid line of his jaw.
He leaned into her touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Her fingers slid into the thick sweep of his hair, tugging gently.