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Her breath stayed on a jagged edge, her hips writhing under his caresses, silently begging for more. Off came her panties. Priya shivered as the soft breeze—the little let in by his broad shoulders between her thighs—kissed her sex.
“What’s this?” he whispered, the question loud in the aching silence.
His fingers rubbed the tattoo, the skin low on her pelvic bone warming up dangerously at the back-and-forth.
The tips of his other fingers feathered, oh, so carefully, over the strip of her hair left above her sex. Just grazing. Just barely touching. She had to swallow the need in her throat before she could say, “It’s a tattoo of a bird, a starling.”
She’d gotten it close to the crease at her thigh, not wanting to reveal it in a bikini. Not wanting to share it with anyone.
“I see that.” Again, that roughness to his voice. A hesitation. As if it was coming from far away. One hand cupped her left hip roughly while his other hand traced mindless circles around the tattoo. The abrasive scrape from his fingertips and the proximity of his mouth there... Her senses flayed open. “You’re terrified of needles. I remember that time when you were recovering from pneumonia. You screeched at the idea of having a shot of antibiotics.”
The flick of his tongue over the tattoo, over the crease of her thigh, was a flash of lightning. She gasped. He didn’t give her a second to process the delight and sensation that skittered from that point. He bit her there gently and then his tongue flicked over the spot, again and again. Until pain chased pleasure and pleasure chased pain and she was nothing but sizzling sensation and stuttering breath.
“Why would you get a tattoo of a starling when you’re scared to death of needles?” he pressed.
“I...” she said, licking her lips, searching for breath. “It was an impulse. It wasn’t as if I was ever going to forget you. Even if I didn’t have Jayden as a daily reminder, you were... You meant something to me. But one of those nights when it felt like I couldn’t go on for another day alone... I wanted to remember what you saw me as, Christian. I wanted a reminder, etched into my skin, that I could be more than that fragile, frightened girl hiding from life. That you saw the possibilities in me. And I needed to be that woman, at least for our son.”
He kept rubbing at the tattoo, his fingers splayed possessively over her skin. Over her hip bone. Over her flesh. Over her heart. Over all of her.
Her pulse raced as her thighs were nudged farther apart by his shoulders.
She felt his face over her pelvis. Taking a deep, shuddering breath as if he meant to inhale her whole. And then his clever fingers were delving into her folds, and his tongue licked her in slow, soft, languorous strokes. His hand reached out and cupped her breast. Clever fingers flicked and stroked the tightening bud, sending direct shocks to her sex. His lips and tongue and fingers and shoulders, everything, moved in a strangely hypnotic symphony over her body, playing her, winding her up.
Her hips bucked off the bed when he gently pinched her nipple, but his forearm pressed her back down again. “More?” he growled.
“Yes, more.”
Sensuous licks. Soft nips. Unhurried breaths. He built her up and then wound her down. Up and down.
“More,” Priya demanded again, heart in her throat.
He upped the tempo of his tongue’s caresses, gathering her wetness and drowning her in it. But still not enough. Never enough. She was never going to get enough of him. Spine arching off the bed, her hips chased his mouth shamelessly.
“More,” she begged again. “Faster. Rougher. Deeper. I need everything, Christian.”
And he gave her more. He gave her things she didn’t ask for. As always. This man who had always been there for her. Who had helped her see who she could be, who she was. Without asking for anything in return. Never asking for anything.
Breath shuddering over peaks and valleys, Priya pushed herself onto her elbows. She saw his grin from between her thighs as he looked up at her. “You taste like heaven, Starling. Just as I imagined, so many times.”
Something about his words split her open. But the errant thought flitted away, chased out by rippling sensation. Dipping his mouth down again, he took another lick of her. Then there were his fingers. First one and then two, carefully penetrating her, thrusting in and out, while his lips...oh, God, his lips...licked her and sucked her and nipped her.
“God, you’ll swallow me whole,” he whispered against her folds.
Priya was sobbing and begging and pleasure was pooling and pooling, spinning her away. He didn’t let up for a second, his breath and fingers and lips, tuning her tighter and tighter, sending her higher and higher. And when he gently, oh, so gently, tugged at her most sensitive nub with his lips, her hips came away from the bed and she screamed aloud.
Release barreled down her spine, spreading in concentric circles from her pelvis, so acute that it was almost a lash of pain. He wrung wave after wave of it with his fingers and mouth until she was sobbing and moaning, her cheeks as damp as the rest of her skin. He’d wrecked her, just as she’d asked him to.
And when her tears wouldn’t stop, when her chest felt tight and her breaths short and shallow, he crawled up her body and took her in his arms. Fear left her in fast rivulets, cleansing and releasing the hold on her, her body deliciously tender and satiated from his caresses.
“I’ve got you, Pree,” he said, tucking her into his arms, his front against her back, one leg thrown over hers. He held her so tightly and yet somehow gently that the shivers subsided. He was rock hard against her buttocks, his heart a deafening thunder against her back. “I’m here, Pree. I’ve got you,” he whispered over and over again.
For the first time since she’d seen him standing there outside the house in the rain, waiting for her, Priya fell into a deep sleep, finally letting go of that tight leash she bound all her desires and needs with. Letting go of the tight control she kept over her heart.
Christian knew the exact moment Priya’s breathing changed and she gave herself over to sleep. Every rational voice in his head said he should untangle himself from her and maybe stand under an ice-cold shower. Yet again. He raised a hand to his hair and found it slightly shaking. His body screamed for release, his erection tenting the front of his sweatpants.
Instead he pushed himself up on an elbow and studied her to his heart’s content. Something he hadn’t been able to do till now, with her perceptive gaze stalking him anytime he was close.
She looked so...rightin his bed. Like nothing else had since his return. The image he’d been running toward in reality and in his nightmares.
