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His mouth was so hot, his tongue like a brand burning across her nipple. First one, then the other. He sucked at the hard points greedily as she became lost in a vortex of pleasure she knew she could never escape.
“Ah, yes, that’s my Chay. ” He ran his tongue in the valley between her breasts.
She shivered at the caress, her thighs tightening on his, her hips undulating at the subtle pressure of his cock head against the slick folds of her sex.
She needed him there. She needed him to take her. Hard. Fast. Deep.
“I missed this,” he crooned as his lips began to kiss a path down her stomach. “Missed touching you, feeling you against me. ”
Her back arched as a tremulous cry tore from her.
“Do you remember it, Chay? So hot it burned us alive? So much pleasure we thought we were dying. ”
She remembered it. She remembered all of it. Like an inferno blast that she had convinced herself was no more than her need to escape her pain. It had been so much more though. Because it was hotter this time, the ache deeper. It was Natches. His touch was like an addiction, and the need only grew the longer the separation. There was no going cold turkey. No escaping the effect of it.
“Ahh, so sweet. ” His tongue licked over the top of the mound between her thighs. So close to her clit. So close she could feel the heat of it, anticipate the wild ecstasy it could bring her.
When it came, it shattered her. Because it was even brighter, hotter, than she remembered, the pleasure swirled through her fear and dissipated it. The need for control evaporated. She was lost in the pleasure, and there was no other place to be. No other place she ever wanted to be.
His tongue slid around her clit, and he groaned against it.
“So sweet, Chay. You taste like summer. ”
Her hands speared into his hair, the thick, silken strands twining around her fingers as she fought to pull him back to her.
And he chuckled against her flesh, a dark, greedy sound. His tongue licked slow and easy through the narrow slit so rich with awakened sensations. Nerve endings came fully alert, too close to the surface of her skin, reveling in his touch again.
She called out his name, her voice hoarse with need, begging him to take her. His hands pushed her thighs farther apart, his head dipped, and his tongue filled her. Ecstasy nearly shattered inside her. So close. She was so close.
“Please. ” She moaned, feeling her release, so close, almost there. Oh God, she needed to come. She needed that wild explosion tearing through her, the release she had only known one other time, had only known with Natches.
“Are you mine, Chaya?” His voice was a dark, seductive croon, pulling her in as he licked again, drawing her taste to him, stroking her into an abyss of sensation and pleasure.
She would give him anything for this. Be anything he wanted as long as she had this.
“Yours. ” She was barely aware of the word tearing from her lips. “Always yours, Natches. Oh God, I’ve always been yours. ”
He paused, a short moment of stillness that her breath caught, then his lips surrounded her clit, drew it into the suckling heat of his mouth, to the licking tip of his tongue, and he pushed her over that edge.
She felt the explosion rip through her, drawing her up, arching her against him as a throttled scream left her lips and she dissolved into him.
She melted. For a moment, just for a moment, she felt herself sinking into the very pores of his flesh, and understood that this was where she belonged. This was the addiction that was Natches. To belong to him so deeply that she was a part of him.
And it lasted for an endless moment. Then he was lifting his head, pushing her legs apart, and before the final wave of release washed through her, he began working the hard length of his erection inside her.
“Look at me, damn you. ”
Chaya’s eyes jerked open at the command. Dazed, almost unfocused, she stared up at the dark vision of every woman’s sexual fantasy come to life.
Black hair framing savage features, green eyes almost glowing in his sun-darkened face, nostrils flared in desperate hunger as his lips drew back from his teeth.
Raw erotic pleasure tore through her at the sight. This man, this sexual intensity, centered on her. On plain Chaya Dane, and God only knew Natches was more man than she had any hope of controlling.
And there was no need to control him now. Pleasure swamped control. There was no thought of control, only sensation—the feel of him working his cock inside her, the thick crest parting tender tissue as perspiration began to form on his shoulders and chest and run in small rivulets along the center of his body.
“Look at me, Chay. ” His voice was deep, hoarse. “Let me see you, baby. Let me see if I’m making you feel good. Does it feel good, Chay?”
Feel good? He was destroying her with pleasure. Her lips parted to tell him, but all she could do was moan his name and stare back at him. And feel him. Feel him stretching her, burning her. She was locked in a grip of ecstasy—it thrummed through her veins, heated her blood and tormented her nerve endings.
