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No other woman would do. No woman but Sabella had the power to do this to him. Even during his stay in hell, when the erection throbbing between his thighs had been in agony, he couldn’t bear the thought of touching another woman.
He always knew. No matter how dazed the lust and the drug made him. No matter how much the women they brought to him looked like Sabella, the second he touched their skin, he knew. Knew it wasn’t his wife, his life, he was touching.
“I dream of you,” he murmured as the edges of her shirt parted, flashing pretty, pale flesh. “Dream.” Had dreamed. “Of touching you. Tasting you.”
“Why dream?” She watched him with shadowed, dark eyes, her lashes feathering her cheeks. “You don’t have to dream, Noah. I’m right here.”
He smoothed the shirt aside, stared down at her breasts, covered in nothing but the thinnest lace, her nipples hard, pointed. He knew the shape of them. The color of them. How they felt beneath his tongue, in his mouth. He knew and he hungered for more.
No woman should have the power over a man that this woman held over him. But he’d accepted the power she had long ago. He had accepted it. Loved it. Relished the heat and the need that flowed between them.
He pulled her hands from where she gripped the bottom of the seat back, lifted her and drew the shirt over her shoulders, his hands stroking her flesh.
He had to clench his teeth as her lips found his neck. She licked his flesh, her lips smoothed over it. He wanted to howl with the need striking hard and deep at his balls.
He pushed the shirt from her arms then flicked open the little hooks on her bra and drew it from her as well.
God, her breasts. What was it about a woman’s breasts that so fascinated a man? Hard tight nipples. Smooth luscious mounds. A woman’s response showed in her breasts. They became swollen, flushed. Nipples darkened, lengthened, and tasted like pure, sweet desire.
His hands flattened on her back, holding her in a half-reclined position as his head lowered to the tight points of her nipples.
He curled his tongue around one and her moan raced over his senses like a caress.
“I love your nipples,” he sighed, pursing his lips and kissing one tight point with a soft suckling motion. “So sweet and tight. So hot and hard.”
She tensed, arched.
Noah slid her to the middle of the seat, straddled her legs, holding her, laying her back, and lowered his head again.
“I’m going to suck your nipples, Sabella. Suck them so sweet and deep that you come from that alone.”
He had done that for her, once. Long ago. In those months before they married. He’d had her so hot, so wet, teased her perfect body with merciless hunger until the suction at one sweet nipple caused her to come.
He wanted that again. He wanted her wild and waiting for his lips against her pussy. Her juices thick and slick, clinging to his lips. He wanted her so wet, so hot, the imprint of their lust so deep inside this vehicle that she never, never allowed another man inside it with her.
She writhed beneath him as his head lowered again. He licked around her nipple. Kissed beneath the swollen mound. His teeth raked close to her nipple, he nipped at the creamy flesh and left a soft, reddened mark as he drew it into his mouth.
Branded her. The little love bite would darken, mark her as his.
“So sweet and lush.” He drew his shirt over his head as he watched her and tossed it aside.
“I want to touch you.” Her voice was thick with desire now, dazed, hungry. “Let me touch you, Noah.”
“Not yet.” He ran his palms over her arms, pressed her hands deeper between the seat bottom and back. “Hold on right there. Don’t move your hands, or we’ll stop.”
The hell they would. If she touched him he was going to go up in flames and slam inside her so hard and fast that neither of them would know what hit them.
“Stay right there, Sabella. Stay there, and let me love you.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
What was he doing to her? There were aspects of him that bore no resemblance to the husband she remembered, that drew parts of herself free that she knew Nathan had never possessed. Just as he gave her the parts of himself that she hadn’t known during their marriage
She arched as his hands cupped her breasts, just rough enough to spike an air of danger and overwhelming hunger. Pressing the mounds together as he licked around her nipples, stroked his fingers over them, then his tongue.
Nathan had always been a thorough lover, but now, it was as though the hunger that raged inside him raged for everything. Every part of her. Even her soul.
And her breasts were so sensitive. Her nipples were hard points of pure sensation. His short, closely cropped beard rasped against her flesh. His lips smoothed and nipped, and his tongue. She arched, twisted, and tried to get closer to that diabolical tongue as each lick around the tight points sent rapturous spikes of sensation tearing into her pussy.
