AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The bedroom or my body?” He teased.
“Both.” But she was kissing him again, her hands working the button of his pants, unfastening them so she could shove them down his legs without breaking their kiss. He stepped out of them with the same degree of urgency and she laughed – for no reason except that she was deliriously happy.
He wore only his boxers. And at that point, she slowed, uncertainty rocking her. Doubts plagued her. It had been a long time since she’d done this. And he was so different. So different to anyone she’d ever known.
“You are so beautiful,” he muttered darkly and the words brought her right back to the present, dragging her into the room, filling her with sensual awareness. There was no room for doubt. This was right. It was perfect, just like she’d said.
She lifted her hands into the air, her eyes holding an unspoken invitation. Everything about him was remarkable. She saw the way his throat shifted, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, and then he was lifting the jumper he’d given her, pulling it softly over her head and dropping it to the floor.
She should have felt more self-conscious but she didn’t. Even when his eyes dropped, so he was staring at her, taking in every detail, and her nipples pulled taut and began to feel tingly.
“So beautiful.” The words were deep, but his smile was sexy and sweet all at once. He shook his head, almost as though he couldn’t believe it, and she wanted to tell him such extravagant praise wasn’t necessary – she didn’t need it and it was hard to believe it was true. She hated that too though – Michael had made it so easy to discredit any compliment anyone paid her. He’s just saying it because he wants to get into your pants, Michael would have pointed out – quite rightly.
Just like he had when her editor had praised her latest book. It’s a true work of art, Madeleine. Michael had naturally laughed. Well, they’ve already bought it, right? A bit late to tell you it’s meaningless crap given your copy editing deadline.
“No words,” she said, lifting a f
inger and pressing it to his lips. “It’s easier.”
He pulled a face. “Really?”
“Uh huh.”
“As easy as this?” He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her, dropping her unceremoniously onto the bed so she laughed as she scrambled onto her elbows.
“As easy as what?”
“This.” He wrapped his mouth around one of her nipples, his tongue circling the sensitive flesh, teasing it, rolling it, pulling it so she whimpered and arched her back, desire driving her utterly wild. Heat pooled between her legs.
“God,” she cried and felt him smile against her breast. His finger and thumb pressed to her other nipple, clamping down on it with just enough pressure to make stars shoot against her eyelids. “This is…God.”
“I thought we weren’t talking?” He mocked, bringing the full weight of his body down over her, his arousal between her legs a stark reminder of what was about to happen. A kaleidoscope of butterflies rampaged her belly.
“I meant…compliments…” she groaned as he rolled his hips, pressing his arousal to her sex so despite the barrier of his boxers and the shorts he’d given her, she was incandescent with pleasure.
“I can’t tell you you’re beautiful?”
“You don’t need to tell me,” she corrected, pushing at his boxers, needing more, needing to feel him, needing to be possessed by him. “Please,” she whimpered into the room.
He pulled up, shifting his mouth to her other nipple but this time, instead of closing his mouth over it, he simply flicked it with his tongue. It was already so sensitive from the way his finger and thumb had been toying with it seconds ago, so the sheer hint of contact from his mouth sent her senses into overdrive. His hands roamed her body, running down her sides with a lightness of touch that was infuriating because it was simply not enough. She needed everything he could give her and she needed it immediately.
At her waist, his hands found the elastic of her shorts and pushed them down, easing them from her body. She lifted her bottom off the mattress to make it easier.
His hands didn’t leave her legs long, once he’d discarded the shorts. Starting at her ankles, they began a slow cruise upwards, towards her thighs, where he pushed a little, separating her legs. She groaned, writhing on the bed beneath him, impatient, hungry for him.
“Don’t forget a condom,” she was shocked she’d managed to remember.
“I will. When it’s time.”
She didn’t get a chance to ask what he meant. His mouth connected with her sex, his tongue, his clever, clever tongue moving slowly at first, and then more intently, buzzing her sensitive cluster of nerves until she was burning up. It was so intimate her cheeks flamed, but she didn’t think, for even one moment, of asking him to stop. Instead, her hands found his hair, running through it, holding on as pleasure threatened to burst through her, tearing her apart completely.
When she was at the brink of breaking, he moved faster, his tongue tormenting her, lashing her until she was trembling. She arched her back and pushed down against him and then she was tumbling off the edge of the earth, exploding against his mouth, exploding with his name on her lips over and over again.
It was unrelenting. Even as she came, he didn’t stop, so she was fire and flame, desperate for him even as she was at the end of her tolerance for pleasure. He somehow knew – he understood, and pulled away, moving his mouth to her inner thigh, kissing the flesh there before moving back to her sex, kissing her more gently, allowing her time to breathe, to recover before he began his next incursion. This time, a finger moved inside of her and she moaned, shaking her head, desperate and terrified of the strength of her desperation even as she knew she would happily surrender to this anytime, anywhere.
He watched her in a way that made her feel precious and special and sexier than sin. He watched her in a way that she loved, like he wanted to understand everything about her so he could pleasure her over and over. The promise was delicious but she pushed it away. This wasn’t about promises. It was just this. Sex. No, not just sex. It was more. It was a healing, a balm, an undoing of Michael, overwriting the memories of how he’d treated her body with this: someone who was worshipping her, existing purely to pleasure her.
It was a physical act with an emotional resonance that she didn’t want to analyse in that moment.
