Page 61 of Raaze

Page List
Font Size:

Bracing himself on one elbow, he reached between them and guided himself to her entrance. The blunt head nudged against her, hot and insistent. She tensed despite herself.

“Look at me, kelarris.”

The murmur in his low voice hit her somewhere deep. She looked up and met his gaze. His red eyes held hers as he pushed forward a little.

She bit her lip as she felt herself stretch around him, a burn that bordered on too much. But he watched her face the whole time and adjusted his angle when her breath caught.

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss against her temple.

“That’s it, kelarris,” he murmured. “You feel perfect around my cock. So tight and wet.”

She wasn’t a virgin. She’d had lovers before—two, both human. They’d been quick encounters in port, and neither had been anything to write home about. She’d assumed that was just what sex was. A physical release, nothing more, nothing less.

This was different.

Inch by inch he worked himself inside her, watching her face the whole time. She could feel herself stretching around him, feeling every ridge, every vein. The sense of fullness overwhelmed her senses. Not her first lover, but nothing could have prepared her for this. For him.

“Breathe,” he whispered as he seated himself fully within her. Filled her completely. Then he stayed perfectly still while her body throbbed around his thick length, and adjusted.

His control impressed her. She saw the cords standing out in his neck, and the way he clenched his jaw. But he waited for her, and her heart melted.

She rolled her hips experimentally and gasped as pleasure sparked along her nerves. “Oh god, move. Please move.”

He did. Slow, deep thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside her, setting a rhythm that made her toes curl. She grabbed his shoulders and held on.

“You feel—” he broke off, jaw clenching. “Draanth, you feel incredible.”

She would have laughed if she’d had the breath for it. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle of her hips, and pulled him closer.

He groaned and shifted, rolling them without breaking their connection until she was on top. She ended up straddling him, her palms braced on his chest. The new position made her sink even deeper onto his steely length, and she gasped.

“Like this.” His hands settled on her hips to guide her. “Take what you need.”

She braced her hands on his chest and started to move. His head fell back against the pillow, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he watched her riding him.

It was different like this. She controlled the angle, the depth, and the speed. She felt every ridge of him inside her, watching his face as she moved and rocked. His eyes were half-closed, his lips parted.

She moved faster, and his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to anchor her.

The view from up here blew her mind. Sweat gleamed on his chest. Muscles flexed and bunched with every movement she made. His abs contracted as she ground down on him. She traced the ridges of his muscles with her nails, and he bucked up into her with a curse.

“Draanth, Cait. Just like that.”

She rode him harder. The angle hit something new inside her, and pleasure coiled tight in her belly, tighter and tighter. Ready to snap. Then he slid a hand between them, his thumb finding her clit to circle it. Her rhythm faltered.

“Oh god, that’s?—”

“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice rough. “Let go, kelarris.”

The second orgasm crashed over her, stronger than the first. A tightening in her core, a heat spreading through her limbs. She chased it, grinding down against him, and he kept moving beneath her. Drawing it out, prolonging every pulse until she thought she’d shake apart.

Before she could come down, he flipped them. Pinning her to the bunk with his larger body, he drove into her again and again. Not rough or uncontrolled. Just relentless.

Just perfect.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held on as he chased his own release.

His thrusts grew erratic, and his breathing ragged. His gaze locked on hers, fierce and possessive, with something softer underneath.