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“We’ll both remember this, Crista. Forever,” he swore. “Neither of us will forget. ”
Because they were both aware, connected now in a way they hadn’t been before.
Crista stretched before him, her hips lifting from the bed as he gripped the band of her soft capris and drew them from her legs. His palms smoothed back up her legs, over the narrow band of her panties, and drew those from her as well.
Her eyes opened, her sight dazed as she stared down at him, watching as he spread her thighs slowly. His gaze became heavy lidded, drowsy with sensuality.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he groaned, his thumbs moving into the indention between her thighs and the tender folds of her sex. “Soft and pink. Your juices glistening on it. ”
And they were. Already the silky wash of her arousal was gleaming on her flesh.
He didn’t stop to touch or to taste though. Instead, he pulled himself on the bed beside her, leaned over her, and kissed her with all the pent-up lust she saw glowing in his gaze.
One large hand gripped her wrists as she tried to lift her hands to touch him. He anchored them to t
he bed above her head and ravished her lips. His tongue twined with hers, tasted her mouth, and caressed her lips. His free hand caressed her breasts, her belly, her thighs. His fingers plumped her nipples, gripped and teased them, and fanned the flames glowing from them.
Crista writhed beneath the caresses. His calloused palms stroked over nerve endings that grew hypersensitive. His nails raked over her belly. And all she could do was endure it.
He held her easily beneath him, his hands and larger body controlling her writhing undulations. She was losing thought, losing control. The need for his touch overrode everything else.
Finally, as his lips lifted from hers, his hand strayed lower than her belly. Crista’s eyes drifted open again, meeting his a second before his hand delivered a heavy caress between her thighs.
“Oh my God. Dawg. ” She jerked beneath him, her hips arching sharply at the small, heavy pat that landed on the swell of flesh on each side of her clit.
“Not too hard,” he growled. “Your flesh is so sensitive. So silken and unused to being bare. ”
Another pat, kissing cousin to a gentle little slap, was delivered to the flesh again. A little lower, rocking sensation through the damp folds and vibrating inside her pussy.
Her clit swelled tighter with each heavy caress, the fierce throb become nearly painful as her sharp moans filled the air.
“So sweet,” he crooned, his voice a black velvet rasp as her thighs fell farther apart, opening for his touch. His fingers slid through the slick cleft, parting the plump, swollen folds before circling her aching clit.
“Dawg, please,” she cried out softly. “Don’t torture me. ”
“No torture, sweetheart, just pleasure,” he promised, his fingers glancing over her clit before leaving the wet flesh and moving once again to her breasts.
He moved lower along her body. His lips slid over her neck, her collarbone. He caught a hard nipple in his mouth. He sucked it deep into his mouth, his tongue lashing at it, his teeth scraping it as Crista’s hands tore loose from his hold.
Her hands twined into his hair. Crista arched closer, her head falling back in pleasure while his hands twined into the long strands of her hair and pulled at them firmly. She pulled at his in turn, the action instinctive, the driving need for orgasm rising inside her.
Dawg was determined in his pace. His caresses were slow and easy, building the flames burning in her womb with deliberate strokes and heated caresses.
He didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath between levels. There was no chance for thought, no chance to regain control.
Before Crista realized where the caresses were leading, she was already ensnared. As his lips began to kiss a careful path down her torso and over her stomach, her thighs were parting farther, her knees bending, making room for his broad shoulders between them.
Release would come now, she was certain.
He could do to her what nothing or no one else could. Pleasure ricocheted through her body and ensnared her in a web of love and lust so intense she knew she would never break free.
His tongue licked over the newly bared flesh, and she knew why he wanted her to experience this pleasure. It was incredible. His tongue touched nerve endings she never knew existed. Each sip, each delicate rasp of his teeth and suckling kiss had her burning hotter, brighter. She could feel her juices flowing from her, moving from her pussy, easing into the narrow cleft of her rear as his fingers began to follow the path they made.
Minutes later, as his tongue finally delved into the narrow slit of her pussy, she felt the cool, slick lubrication on his fingers as they pressed against her rear entrance.
She knew that feeling. It was more than what he had done in the office; she could feel it. No toys were going to take her body this time.
The control, each deliberate kiss and caress, had been for one purpose. To one end. To claim every part of her.
