She gasps as I push her down on the bed. I’m on her immediately, kissing every inch of exposed skin while she writhes beneath me.
“Wren, please…” I hesitate because I think she wants me to stop or slow down. Instead, she whines, “Fuck me. Now.”
“Patience.” This will be fun. “Told you I was going to worship you, and I am.” I unhook her bra, champing at the bit to get to her gorgeous breasts. “Fucking perfect.”
I take my time, kissing and sucking until she's too undone to beg anymore. Only then do I move lower, pulling her undies off with my teeth. She's ready, glistening, and the sight makes my own loins pulse with the kind ofhump her now!insanity that I love.
“All this for me?” I tease.
“Only you,” she gasps as I spread her thighs open. “All ofthisfor you.”
Hell, yes. She’s picture-perfect, the kind of woman I could spend hours exploring because every inch of skin, every fold of her flesh is something new to discover. Her scent is unlike anything I’ve needed before. And that happy smile she exhibits when I look at her with such intention… because we both know what I’m about to do to her…
Thatis bliss. Seeing her happy. Knowing her worth.
I can’t hold back anymore. I feast on her like a starving animal, using everything I learned earlier today about what makes her shake. Her hips buck off the bed and right onto my mouth, a sharp, involuntary cry surprising her more than me. My name is all over her lips. I flatten my tongue against her with a broad, possessive stroke, and her thighs clamp around my ears, her skin rubbing against my face as I completely dive in and take her as my holiday present. Better than cookies. Better than wine.
This taste of her floods my senses because it’s not just her, butherwhen she cuts loose and lets someone like me experienceeverything she has to offer. She’s my flower left out in the cold, salty air. It’s intoxicating. Her very arousal is an elixir I’ll imbibe until I die.
I shift, pressing the flat of my tongue harder against her entrance, daring her to get a drop past me. She’s so wet, so ready for me, her body offering itself up without reservation now that she knows what she’s capable of. Her surrender has me on edge, but not out of anxiety. I, too, want to feel this kind of physical pleasure, but not yet. Right now, it’s all about her—Edie. Her body. Her heart. Her sweet soul that she gives back to the world in so many ways.
I want to break her. Break down that toxic part of her that believed everything her shit-for-brains ex told her. Let her build herself up again in a better, more just world.
My hands slide up her sweat-slicked body, finding her breasts that are almost too big to fit into my palms. I pinch her nipples, rolling the tight peaks between my thumb and forefinger in time with the first flicker of my tongue against her clit. Her body bows, a tight arch of muscle and need. A keening sound escapes her. It’s the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard, let alone during lovemaking.
“God, Wren… don’t stop,” she says with a ragged whisper.
“Never,” I growl against her, the vibration of my lust making her jolt. I focus on that tight, sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking her, kissing her, a relentless rhythm. I don’t want to just make her come. I want to erase every thought, memory, and person who came before me until there is onlythis. Only us.
I press two fingers against her slick entrance, feeling the way her body yields to me. Her need for me is a vortex pulling me in. I curl my fingers inside her, forever searching for that perfect spot that makes my Edie launch her spine off the bed and scream my name in ecstasy.
“That's one.” I’ve pulled away and kiss up her body, her scent, her sweet surrender dripping from my lips. “Going for a record tonight.”
“I can’t do that again…”
“You can. You will.” I shed the rest of my clothes, and her eyes go wide at seeing me coming straight for her with lusty, murderous intent. "Going to make you come so many times you forget my cursed family.”
“But…” She’s holding on to her own breasts as if she needs to protect her sensitive nipples from what I want to do to them. “What about you? Can I eat you out, too? Please…” Her eyes roll back. Is she already fantasizing about it? “I need to know what you taste like, Wren.”
I grin. “That would be so hot, angel.” My own thighs shudder to think about it. “But tonight is all about you. And me, too. Believe it or not, I love nothing more than getting to make a wonderful woman like you come. Again. And again.”
Her half-hearted giggle is born from premature exhaustion. “Next time?”
“We’ll see where the night takes us. Right now…” I hitch my thighs against hers as I loom over her. “It’s all about helping my Edie make up for lost time.”
She likes that. When I saymy Edie.
My weight settles over her, a deliberate pressure that pins her tomybed. She’s pliant, open, her body still rippling with the aftershocks of her first release. I lower my hips, enjoying the immediate contact of my eager body against hers. A shudder runs through me, starting deep in my gut and spreading outward. It’s a territorial claiming. I nudge her legs wider with my knees, establishing my space, mymy mine.. My hands press into the mattress on either side of her head, caging her in. I want her to be surrounded, consumed by me.
I move. Not a grind, not a thrust, but a slow, luxurious ride. My mound drags against hers, the friction exquisite. Her groans come in short bursts, her hands rising to grip my arms, her nails digging into my inked skin. The pain grounds me in the moment as I indulge in her amazing body and everything it offers me… hell, everything I offerher.I watch her face, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted as she pants in further ecstasy at our closeness. I shift my angle, a slight roll of my hips, and the pressure changes, becoming more focused, more intense. Edie tries to arch off the bed, but can’t. I’ve got her pinned down using nothing but my body.
I take it higher. The rhythm quickens, becoming a deep, possessive rutting. The sound of my squeaking bed turns me on even more, and I’m shameless, the percussive beat driving us on. Edie edges herself beneath me, her thighs trembling where they’re pressed against mine. Every muscle in my body is coiled, burning with effort. I lower my head, my forehead resting against hers, a kiss always on the verge of appearing. The dragon on my chest breathes fire against her skin. Or maybe that’s the heat of her body consuming me.
I drive against her, a hard, deliberate grind that exposes my clit against her thigh. Her whole body is rigid, a strangled cry tearing from her throat. Her inner muscles clench around nothing, a phantom grip that I feel as if I were inside her. The sensation is my undoing. I come on her thigh, unleashing the terror that is my own heartache for her and what she’s been through.
And it’s never enough, is it? Because it’s over so soon, and that half-lidded look on her round face tells me she needs more.Ihave to give her more. I must tear her apart until she’s too sore to make love to me anymore. I want her voice gone, her throat hoarse. I’ll even claim her ass if I have to. If that will make all the bad memories go away.
Bad memories for whom?My subconscious asks me that during my moment of post-coital clarity.Is she the only one who needs a do-over?
