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Shame coursed through her. She had known it would be like this. He would expect her to participate, to know what to do, to know how to love him in turn. Her throat thickened with rage and tears as she realized she didn’t know, had no idea how to touch him, how to pleasure him.
“It has nothing to do with how good you are at something, Marey. ” His voice was dark, deep, as he shrugged the shirt from his shoulders, her fingers touching impossibly warm teak flesh then.
She trembled at the feel of him. Strong and heated, the muscles of his chest bunching beneath her touch as her lips moved along his chest.
“Just touch me,” he crooned gently, weaving a spell of sensuality around her that was impossible to resist. “I’ve dreamed of it, your hands on my flesh, your lips, your tongue, touching and stroking me with your hunger. Show me how hungry you are for me. ”
Hungry? She was starved. She could feel her hand soaking in the feel of him, sending the sensation to parts of her body that shouldn’t even be considered erogenous zones.
As she stared up him, she licked her lips, her gaze centering on his. Perfectly, sensually full, they looked warm, inviting. She needed his kiss. She whimpered with the need, suddenly overwhelmed with the thought of touching and being touched. God, she needed him to touch her. Just a kiss. One small, light touch of his lips…
His head lowered, but there was nothing light in the possession he took of her. He groaned, a rough, desperate sound as his lips covered hers, his tongue stroking against the seam until she parted for him, gave him permission to raid the warm depths of her mouth.
One arm went around her, clasping her to him as her hand roamed over his chest, his steel-hard abdomen. He might work at a desk, but his body was in perfect shape, muscular and hard. So hard.
She moved against him, feeling the wedge of his cock behind his slacks, against her lower stomach. She trembled, pressing closer, her head falling back in surrender, her body sliding against his as her tongue reached out timidly to his.
Racing, desperate, clawing lust bit into her with a demon’s razor-sharp bite. She arched, sizzling heat blooming in her belly and streaking to her clit, her pussy, her engorged breasts. Out of control, her hands slid up his chest, his strong neck, gripping the back of his head as his hands arched her closer, lifting her until he could grind the thick erection against the pad of her cunt.
She cried out, shaking in the grip of an arousal she had never known before. Never, even in the darkest dark, when dreams so erotic, so sensual attacked her, had she known such a powerful, driving need as what she felt now.
“Easy, sweetheart. ” His lips moved from hers, his hands holding her still when she would have followed, would have begged for more.
When he refused the caress, her lips moved to his chest. Sleek, tough skin over powerful muscles. Her tongue stroked over the dark flesh, her hands moving from his head to his abdomen. She wanted him naked, wanted him hot and blistering with desire as she was. It was killing her, the sudden, powerful sensations sweeping through her.
“There you go, baby. ” His deep, crooning voice urged her in her madness.
And it was madness. She was setting herself up for a fall, a small weak portion of her mind warned her. This was destruction. It was a fall from which there would be no recovering.
Her lips moved to his abdomen, close, so close to the opened waistband of his pants. And beyond. Beyond lay the object of her desperation.
She nipped at his tight flesh as his fingers threaded in her hair.
“Loosen my pants, Marey. Release my cock, baby. I’m dying to feel your hands on me. Soft, silken hands. Do you know how often I’ve dreamed of watching your hands stroke me?”
She could feel the pressure burning in her clit as he urged her on.
Her hands trembled, fumbled with the tab of his zipper, but finally managed to work it over the straining erection. She heard him moan as her fingers brushed the tightly stretched cotton of his boxer briefs as her eyes opened, widened as she glimpsed the impressive length of him beneath the material.
His fingers tightened in her hair.
“Do it, baby,” he growled, his voice resonating with the same painful hunger whipping through her body. “Release my cock. Touch me, before I go crazy here. ”
She pulled the elastic waistband down, pushing at it as it cleared his thighs, freeing the dark length of his erection
to her touch. She touched him timidly, amazed at the feeling of satin warmth, and beneath it, iron-hard strength. Thick veins ridged the length of his cock as the pulse of blood pounded at the flesh.
The head was flared, a perfect mushroom shape designed for pleasure, damp with pre-come and throbbing imperatively. Closing her eyes, Marey allowed her tongue to peek out, to wash over the crest, tasting the salty male essence of him as he moaned roughly.
“There you go. ” His breathing was rough, his voice deeper. “Let me feel that soft little tongue. Do you know it feels like hot silk?”
She licked over the head again, moaning herself at the taste of him. She wanted him, wanted more, she wanted to consume him.
Chapter Six
Sax knew he was walking a thin, fragile line with Marey. Her sexual confidence, as Ella had warned him, was extremely low. Nearly untried, hesitant, frightened, but so naturally sensual she was blowing his mind as she licked and probed at the tight, desperate flesh of his cock.
He wanted to push inside her mouth, wanted to fuck her lips and feel her sucking at him hungrily. But not yet. He had to let her take him as she needed him, explore and make him insane with the hot bite of lust.
