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He arched her back, pressing her hips into his thigh while her head rested against Shameless’ side. The sensation as she slid down his leg was breath-stealing. Though his hand in the small of her back kept her as he wanted, his lips on her neck were a far better anchor.
“What are you doing to me?”
“Just a little innocent sparking.”
There was nothing innocent about what he was doing to her. It was as sinful as all get out and it was probably a lack in her moral character that she demanded more. “Do it again.”
“You do it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Like this.” He nipped her neck. The sharp jolt of pleasure ricocheted through her torso up into his. The jerk of her hips dragged her pussy across the rough denim of his pants, abrading her sensitive flesh deliciously.
“That’s right,” he drawled in her ear when she threw her head back and moaned. His hands on her hips encouraged another slide against his thigh. “Just like riding a horse. Move with me.”
She’d been riding since she was three. Catching his rhythm was as natural as breathing. His mouth returned to hers, less gentle, more demanding. More in tune with the sensations charging through her body. Her breath came in gasps. Her grip tightened around his shoulders. Her hips took over the rhythm, freeing his hands from the obligation. Her pussy swelled and pouted, increasing the pleasure, the ache. The fire consumed her, spiraling higher. She tore her mouth from Asa’s. She needed air. She needed the freedom to express the feeling exploding through her body She’d have been embarrassed by the moans escaping her if he hadn’t been whispering in her ear how he liked them. How he wanted more.
His fingers climbed her torso, counting the ribs of her corset. When he reached the fullness of her breast where it swelled over the top of the garment, he flipped his hand and used the tender point of her nipple to count the ladder of his fingers.
She buried her face in the curve of his neck, afraid of where this was leading. Afraid she wouldn’t care. “Asa!”
He released her hips. His hands cupped her breasts, weighing their fullness. With a squeeze, he tested their resiliency. “You’re doing fine, darlin’.”
His thumbs rubbed her nipples, gliding over her cotton shirt in a caress so light, it was almost illusionary. She needed more. She froze when he grasped both nipples simultaneously between his fingers and thumbs. For the space of two heart beats, he did nothing. In those two seconds, she discovered anticipation could be agony.
When she opened her eyes, he was watching her. The blush started at her toes, but she didn’t look away. She couldn’t. All the feelings she struggled to contain, he wore openly. Proudly. And she wanted to release all that passion, to experience it. To feel it pour over her in a sensual rush. She slid her fingers into his hair. The strands were cool and soft against her flesh. A balm to her over-stretched nerves. “Please,” she whispered, holding his dark gaze with hers.
The pressure on her nipples increased, stopping just short of pain, holding her on the edge.
“Just lean back and trust me,” he drawled.
She couldn’t. She wanted to, but she couldn’t give up the pleasure she’d attained. If she moved back, it would be gone.
He bent his head. A sharp twinge in her breast immediately blossomed to pleasure, surprising her enough to scoot back. She stared into Asa’s face. His smile was sensuous. His expression intense.
“You bit my bubbies!”
His breathing was as labored as hers. “Lean back and I’ll do it again.”
She did, and he did. Gently. Thoroughly. It was almost too much. He squeezed and tugged her nipples with his lips as his hands worked her on his thigh. She tossed her head from side to side, trying to find release from the agony within. “Asa!”
“Jesus!” He was lifting her, tugging at her clothes, pushing her skirts away from between them. His hands were hot under her thighs. Even through the thin cotton of her pantaloons, she could feel their power. He lifted her. His teeth on her breast through her shirt distracted her from the intimacy of their position. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and forced his mouth harder on her breast.
“Put your legs around me.”
She did, mindlessly obeying. The hard ridge of his cock burned hot and huge against her crotch. The pulsing pressure took her higher. Every nerve stretched to the breaking point. Reaching for release. “I can’t stand it,” she gasped.
“Not yet,” he ordered, his face inches from hers, every plane etched with the passion taking them both.
“What?”
“I want to see.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, but when his mouth left her breast, she groaned and pulled, but he didn’t respond. His hands gripped her hips anew. With relentless force, he slid her pussy over his cock. From top to bottom, he let her slide. Her pantaloons, slick with her juices, caught at her pussy lips, tugging at her already sensitive flesh, adding another biting element of sensation. She moaned and twisted, pressing harder. Striving.
