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Lazarus' hands went around me and moved slowly down my back, sinking in hard to my ass and pulling up until I was on my tiptoes and then off my feet completely, making my legs move up and curl around his hips as he deepened the kiss and started moving toward the bedroom.
He turned us, him lowering down at the foot of the bed with my straddling him, finally releasing my lips- leaving them feeling swollen and tingly and oversensitive as his lips moved over my jaw then down the side of my neck. My head fell back, giving him better access as his stubble scraped, his lips kissed and sucked, and his tongue licked until I was beyond restraint, my hips grinding against him, begging for release.
His hands moved off my ass, sliding to my hips and snagging the heavy sweatshirt- slowly hauling it upward, making me raise my hands over my head so he could discard it to the floor.
There wasn't even a hesitation after it was gone before his hands closed over the swells of my breasts through the thin material of my dress, squeezing tight before rubbing his thumbs over the hardened points. His head ducked suddenly and sucked one into his mouth through the fabric as his other fingers grabbed my other nipple and pinched hard, making my entire body jolt and an almost embarrassingly loud moan escape me.
His other hand moved to grab the bodice of my dress and yank it down beneath my breasts, his mouth closing over my other nipple with no barrier, making my hands curl into his shoulders hard enough to leave crescent-shaped bruises.
Sensing the need for relief, that the desire was no longer bordering on, but had taken a genuine turn toward painful, his hand slid down my side, back over my ass, then inward, pressing between my thighs and stroking over my clit. My forehead fell into his shoulder on a moan as a shudder coursed through me.
It had been so, so long since I had felt anything good, anything to completely take away the dark and ugly in my life- the reappearance of it was completely overpowering as he kept licking and sucking my nipples, as he kept moving over my clit with the precision of someone who knew exactly when to pull away to prevent an orgasm.
By the time he had prevented three, I was beyond reason, beyond any control over my body that was rigid and trembling slightly with the need for release.
Lazarus stood suddenly, lowering me down on the bed, pressing my thighs open, and lowering down onto his knees before me. His hand yanked my panties to the side and his lips were on me, sucking my clit hard before his tongue moved out to stroke over it in fast, unrelenting circles. My hips rose. My hand held the back of his neck to me, refusing to let him deny me again. But it wasn't necessary because he seemed to have no intention of doing that again as one of his fingers moved in and slid inside me, thrusting as wildly as his tongue was working me. Another finger joined, then both turned and raked over the top wall, searching and finding my G-spot just seconds before the orgasm ripped violently through my system.
My back arched, my thighs tensed, my hand crushed into his neck, and the waves just kept coursing through me, making his name scream out from between my lips as he worked me through it, dragged it out, made it as intense as possible.
Spent, my hand lessened its hold and Lazarus pushed up as his fingers slid out of me. My panties barely had a moment to fall into place before he was snagging them and dragging them down my strangely weighted legs. As soon as they were discarded, his hands went to my dress around my hips and started inching it up, his lips pressing into the skin as he exposed it up my belly, between my breasts. He sat up, pulling the material free, sitting back on his ankles over me afterward, looking down at me with heavy eyes, the hunger there making another impossible surge of need start to swell in my lower stomach.
I planted my hands and pushed my sated body upward toward him, my hands going to his hips and bunching up the material of his tee as my eyes stayed on his until I couldn't reach any higher and he had to take control and discard the shirt on the floor with my dress. Then, I couldn't keep eye-contact. My gaze lowered over his strong chest. My hand went out, stroking over the scars on his chest then down his stomach, watching the muscles contract at the contact. There were fresh bruises from the fight- strong blue and purple in stark contrast to his tan skin. My fingertip found the smooth spot of his large scar, tracing it downward for a long minute. Following a strange urge, I leaned forward and kissed it before my hands went toward the waist of his pants and worked the button and zip.
