Her hand slid down her body to part the folds of her sex. She needed more pressure; her body begged for it.
“You want to touch yourself, Princess? You want to ease the ache in your gorgeous cunny?”
She nodded vigorously, her eyes screwed closed in desperation.
“On one condition…” The dangerous note in his voice gave her pause and then he pressed his mouth to her ear. “I get to taste you.”
With a whimper, Nora’s fingers delved through her slit, swirling and teasing just as she liked. She circled her needy entrance and dragged her moisture through the glistening petals, flicking and pressing on her aching, sensitive nub. She worked herself until she was breathless and writhing, certain that Thomas’s firm grip on her was the only reason she hadn’t collapsed face-first to the bed. She arched back into the hard wall of his body. She felt full to bursting with tension, seconds away from an explosive orgasm when Thomas grabbed her hand and wrenched it from her sex. Her cry of frustration quickly died when he brought her hand to his lips and sucked her nectar from every one of her fingers. Dropping her hand, he grasped her jaw and tilted her head back to meet his kiss, allowing her to taste her own sweet, musky flavor on his tongue.
“So delicious,” he growled.
Nora was somehow both taut and boneless as Thomas pressed her forward until her cheek rested on her arms. Her rear was in the air and he ran his palms slowly, appreciatively along the soft skin of the globes. Spreading them, pressing themtogether, running his fingers along her entire cleft from front to back and rubbing through her wetness.
“Fucking hell…” Thomas swore, gripping her hard enough that it bordered a delicious sort of pain. “What you do to me, Nora.” He bent forward and pressed an unexpectedly tender kiss between her shoulder blades. As he did so, the broad, blunt head of his cock slid between her legs to glide through her swollen, dripping petals. She mewled in delight when it rubbed her throbbing clitorus; just a few more strokes and she’d tumble over the edge of her orgasm.
But Thomas knew that, damn him.
He nudged her knees wider with his own, the coarse hair of his legs tickling her sensitive inner thighs, making her arch back into him more. Thomas’s deep, rumbling moan washed over her senses just as he notched himself into place and gripped her hips, firmly holding her steady when she would have rocked back and impaled herself on his staff.
“Please, Thomas!” she cried, clawing at the bedsheets. She felt so empty without him inside of her—her sensitive inner muscles clenching greedily around nothing.
“Please, what, Princess?” he growled.
“Please fill me,” Nora sobbed. “I need you inside me. I want it.”
He began pressing forward, a quavering exhalation ripped from his chest. He didn’t stop until he was seated to the hilt and his thighs were melded firmly to her rear. Nora gasped and wriggled, loving the burning ache of her body moulding to his, accommodating him as it hadn’t for any other man—as it would never. She didn’t desire this with anyone other than he—didn’t ever long for that intimacy. He knew her—her mind, her body, her heart, her soul—and she didn’t believe there could be anything more satisfying than that.
“Is that what you wanted?” Thomas gritted out through clenched teeth. “My cock inside your tight, wet heat?”
“Yes…” she moaned, her hips held all but suspended by Thomas’s strong arms when she would have melted into a puddle of flesh and liquid bones. He was so hot, so hard, filled every corner of her so well. “So…good…”
“How about now?” Thomas rocked his pelvis backward, withdrawing from her inch by torturous inch until she was nearly crying uncontrollably from the loss. Just as the head was about to leave her, he slid home once more in a thrust that stole her breath from her lungs.
“Yes! Like that! More—harder!”
Unable to maintain his restraint, Thomas began thrusting in earnest. What started as measured movements, steadily paced and rhythmed, devolved into frantic digs and deep penetration until each pounding movement rubbed the lips of her womb. He slammed into her again and again, the pendulous weight below his member striking her exposed and sensitized pearl in just the right way. Each guttural grunt urged Nora higher. Every stroke of him inside her drove her closer to insensibility. Her entire body tingled and flared; her ears rung and white flashes of light popped behind her tightly closed eyes. She leaned into his powerful thrusts, meeting him blow for blow. She clenched around him, trying to hold him deep within her slick channel and relishing the way his pained groan devolved into filthy and nonsensical words of praise.
“You feel so good,” Thomas panted heavily. “Even better when you come when I’m inside you.” Instantly, Thomas slid his hand around her hip, parted her folds with his long fingers, and began stroking her in time with his powerful thrusts. Nora writhed and whimpered, her entire body trembling as the pleasure fought to take over. “That’s it, Princess. Come apart for me. Let go.” The wet squelch of their thrusting bodies, hisskillful ministrations, the heat and strength of him, the scent of their mingling sweat and arousal, his heavy breaths, all worked in tandem to launch Nora into the most powerful orgasm of her life.
She screamed as wave after wave of bliss pulsated through her limbs, dragged out by Thomas’s persistent ministrations. Her muscles vibrated and she clenched around him, her body trying to draw him deep and never let him go again. She sobbed his name over and over like the fervent benediction of a desperate woman.
Thomas released a barking gasp. “That feels—oh, Christ, I’m going to—” His hips stuttered and he sank deep, roaring out his own orgasm as rope after rope of his hot seed filled her.
Nora moaned with regret when Thomas finally slid from her body. The rasp of their shaky breaths filled the air. She would have laid down, but he held her steady. She could feel the searing heat of his gaze as he watched his seed slowly drip from her body, a low, primal sound of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. She might have been mistaken, but she thought she heard him murmur, “Mine…” She shivered and flushed in pleasure.
She was utterly boneless when Thomas pulled her into his arms and, together, they collapsed to the mattress, the bed’s ropes creaking slightly with Thomas’s not-insubstantial weight. She was entirely content allowing him to wrap his body around hers while his large hands roamed and gooseflesh rippled across every inch of her skin.
They fit so well like that, the two of them lying together, sweat-slicked skin meeting inch by inch, Thomas’s face buried in her ruined coiffeur. He couldn’t stop breathing in Nora’s scent, as ifit were as integral to him as the air. He felt better, more whole, with her in his lungs. A part of him had been missing all these years, and now he could breathe.
His chest swelled with emotion; this sensation of contentment threatened to swallow him whole and never release him. He’d be a slave to it forever…and he found he didn’t mind the thought.
“I love you, Nora.” His words were slightly muffled by the thick waves of her chestnut hair.
“Mmm?” The sound was sleepy and sated—exactly the satisfied sound he wanted to hear from the woman with whom he shared a bed.
Thomas propped his head up on his palm and gazed down at her beautiful face. She had one eye cracked open and her lips were pink and puffy from his fervent kisses. “I said, I love you, Nora,” he repeated himself, his mouth tilting into a gentle smile, confident in his truth.
Both her eyes opened at that. He used his free hand to brush unruly locks of hair from her face and then traced the curve of her cheek with the back of his hand.
