His breath fans over my skin between each one, and the space between his breaths grows shorter, like his own restraint is crumbling.
“I’ve waited centuries,” he whispers against mystomach before looking up into my eyes, “to worship someone worthy of it.”
I don’t have time to ask what that means before his hands rise. The moment swells as his palms finally curve around the soft weight of my breasts. His thumbs move slowly, dragging over the peaks of my nipples in the lightest circles, and I gasp at the feeling.
The sensation is electric. A flicker of something bright and urgent that pulls tightly in the pit of my stomach. I arch instinctively, not even knowing why–only that the ache between my thighs sharpens and grows.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, watching me. “Every sound. Every breath. I want to learn them all.”
He moves again, with one hand cupped around the swell of my breast while the other teases the peak of my other breast with more pressure, rolling it gently between his fingers, tugging and testing.
I whimper. A spark jolts through me, low in my belly.
Just as I adjust to the sensation, he lowers his head and suddenly his mouth replaces it.
He draws my nipple into his mouth and sucks gently, the feeling warm, wet, and soft. A broken sound rips from my throat, and my back arches again, pressing me further into his mouth. My hands clutch the sheets.
I didn’t know it could feel like this. That pleasurecould start so simply and still build with such force it feels like it might split me open.
His lips close tighter around my nipple and he groans against my skin.
He’s enjoying this too.
That realization makes a new feeling bloom...a sense of power. This pleasure isn’t one-sided, I’mgivingsomething, too.
I look down at him to see that his eyes are already locked on mine.
The way he watches me while he worships my body feels more intimate than any kiss, as if he wants to watch the moment I come undone under his touch.
His mouth lingers, lips parted against the curve of my breast, before his tongue begins to swirl. Every flick sends a ripple through me, and I feel it all pooling between my thighs–an ache I don’t have words for yet, only need.
One of his hands drifts down my side slowly, fingers splaying over the curve of my waist and then the dip of my hip. His palm drags lower, a warm line of pressure that sets off a fresh cascade of shivers. My body is buzzing, alive in ways I didn’t know it could be.
I hold my breath in anticipation. I don’t know where he’s going…I only know that if he stops, I might cry.
He continues to tease my nipple with his tongueand teeth while his fingers slip past my hipbone and brush the soft flesh of my inner thigh. He pauses there for a moment and I know he’s giving me time to say no.
His eyes lift to mine again and the question is there, as clear as the heat between us:Are you ready?
I nod, just once, and the tremble in my exhale carries my answer.
His fingers graze a place I didn’t know could feel like this. A soft, tentative stroke over the center of my ache. I cry out, sharp, breathless, and shocked. The sound catches in my throat as my hips jerk upward.
My hand flies to his wrist, not to stop him, but to hold on as the sensation rushes through me.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, voice low and careful. “Too much?”
I shake my head frantically. “No. I need more. Please.”
His body shifts over mine, a growl rumbling low in his chest as his hand returns, this time with more certainty. He parts me gently, his fingers circling with the kind of precision that makes me gasp and arch all at once.
Each pass over that bundle of nerves sends a fresh surge of heat rolling through me. My thighs begin to tremble and my breath catches. He’s learning me at the same time I’m learning myself.
“Oh,” I whisper, “what is that?”
“Your body responding to mine,” he says, his voice a ragged breath. “This is only the beginning, darling.”
He presses his thumb down with just enough pressure to send me careening. The heat builds fast, sharp, and relentless. My hips roll into his touch, desperate and trembling. I can’t stop the sounds pouring from me. I don’t want to.
