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I fisted the fabric at his side with one hand, reaching up and gripping his forearm with the other, needing to anchor myself. I needed to be grounded to this bed, to this man, or I would lose myself, lose this place, and just float away. My head was so spinny and light. The world had become unsteady.
His hand pushed slightly against my waist, encouraging me to lay back against the bed. I locked my hand on his neck, bringing him with me when I rolled, keeping his mouth on mine. He shifted closer, laying his hand on my stomach and deepening the kiss. He sucked on my lips and greedily came back for more.
It was intoxicating, an intense whirlwind of sensation. With every swipe of E.Z.'s hand and every drugging pool of his warm lips, my breathing became increasingly out of control. The soft glide of his fingers made my core clench.
I shuddered, breathing erratically, too worked up for the amount of air I could take in. I would probably hyperventilate before finding relief from this exquisite torture.
I twisted, moving my hips towards E.Z., seeking contact. I found his hardness and rubbed against him, trying to get relief from feelings so intense I didn’t know how to handle them. Feelings that only intensified the more I moved.
“Kaia, you’re killing me,” E.Z. groaned, lifting up on his elbow so he could touch me with both hands and lean further over me.
E.Z. held my ribcage firmly, trying to keep me still. My chest arched off the bed, my breasts seeking E.Z.’s attention. My nipples, stiff and aching, pushed against the thin, rough fabric of my tunic and burned for his touch. I felt the anticipation of that touch everywhere.
E.Z. finally swept his hand up, cupping my right breast. With a gasp, I threw my head back into the pillow and pushing more of myself into his palm, gave into what my body needed.
His lips found the curve of my neck and shoulder blade. Kissing, biting, sucking. His beard scraping.
I pressed my body further into his, not knowing what I was doing but needing to feel him everywhere. I loved the feel of him pressed against me, how he grunted into my skin. Loved how I was feeling more alive than I’d ever felt in my life.
His touches flamed my arousal, making my need grow but never giving me the relief I was practically crying for. I spread my legs further in offering, thrusting up, trying to encourage his hand lower. Where I needed it. Where I burned for him.
“Goddess, help me,” E.Z. panted into my neck, finally pushing himself back into me, losing more of his control and moving against me.
One of E.Z.’s hands flattened on my stomach, holding me steady, trying to control my thrashing as his other thumb passed over my sore, neglected nipple once. Twice.
I turned my head, burying it into the pillow to catch my whimpers. The touch didn’t give me any relief. The more he touched me, the hotter I burned. I wanted to stop the exquisite torture, but I also wanted to beg for more, never wanting it to end.
E.Z. moved his torture to my other breast. My hips started a steady rhythm on their own accord, rocking up and down as he palmed my breast, then circled the nipple with his thumb. My nerve endings seemed to be firing out of control, shooting down to my toes.
E.Z. nibbled on my jawline as he moved his lips to my ear. His voice was husky and strained. “Want me to touch you, Kaia?”
I whimpered and moaned incoherent words of acceptance and encouragement into my pillow.
The hand on my stomach didn’t move.
“I need you to tell me that’s what you want.” E.Z. nibbled on my earlobe.
“Yes!” I turned and moaned my acceptance into the room. Loud and clear and begging. “E.Z., please touch me. I want you to touch me so badly that I hurt.”
The ache between my thighs was pulsing to the rhythm of my heart, throbbing with every pounding beat.
E.Z.’s hand finally lowered, and I eagerly widened my legs. I watched his hand until I became too engrossed in sensations to watch anymore.
I grabbed the fabric at his waist, closed my eyes, and let myself feel. I could feel E.Z.’s warm, panting breaths into my neck and the way he pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it before pinching again. I felt his fingers against my swollen clit, pushing and circling through my soaked leggings.
E.Z. grunted, his muscles tightening as he pushed against my hip— like he, too, was losing control.
“E.Z., I need more,” I panted.
Holding my eyes, E.Z. slid his hand under my leggings, his fingers leaving a steaming trail as they moved. He lightly circled my entrance, spreading my wetness. I jerked and whimpered, trying to push myself into his hand, trying to direct his hand where I needed it. Without his touch, I was sure to burn up.
When he moved his drenched fingers to circle my clit, a groan was dragged from my throat. It was a deep, raspy cry of relief as my core pulsed and fluttered beneath E.Z.’s hand. I ground against it out of pure instinct, knowing my body was hungry for him. Knowing only he could cure me of this exquisite pain.
“Please, E.Z.,” I begged, practically crying out for relief. “I need more.” I was desperate for more.
E.Z. grunted a pained sound and captured my mouth. As his tongue sought entry, he slowly slipped one finger inside me. E.Z. pushed his finger deeper, going painfully slow until he was as deep as he could go, and his palm was pressed against my clit.
“Fuck, Kaia. You're so fucking warm,” E.Z. said into my mouth, never breaking his hungry, drugging kisses. I swallowed his ground-out words and returned the kiss with equal passion, rocking my hips against his palm.
