AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With a surge of determination, she took more of him. He trembled and his breath sawed in and out as if he couldn’t get enough air. Her nostrils filled with the heady aromas of fresh male sweat and arousal.
She paused. Wondering if she should stop. Wondering if she could. What she did held a compelling fascination. And there was a searing pleasure in seeing Nicholas helpless under her caresses.
“Hell, Antonia, keep going,” he gritted out as though speaking hurt him.
She looked up. His head tipped back against the pillows, the sinews in his neck strained against the skin, and his features were stark with need. Triumph mapped a zigzag path through her. He liked what she did. More than liked it, if his ragged plea was any indication.
Feeling more daring with every second, she took him again. Imitating the advance and retreat of the act of love, she lifted her head and lowered it again.
She loved the hard slide inside her mouth. Her grip on the base of his rod firmed. She felt she held the source of his life. This final intimacy smashed the few crumbling barriers that remained between them. By tasting him where he was most a man, she staked her possession of him.
Instinct alone guided her. Instinct and the astonishing moments when he’d kissed between her legs. Johnny had once tried to make her do this but she’d been repulsed. Taking Nicholas into her mouth made her toes curl with excitement.
She set up an uncertain rhythm between mouth and hand, testing what drove him to the edge. Easy to tell. His breathing caught and released in unmistakable encouragement. His hand in her hair opened and closed in time with her movements.
Quickly, more quickly than she’d imagined, she discovered the pattern that provided his greatest pleasure. She made a low sound of satisfaction and concentrated on driving him mad.
When he groaned with frustration and his muscles were taut enough to snap, she glanced up. The skin of his face was so tight, she could see the bones beneath.
“Damned . . . witch,” he grated out.
A smile curved her lips. Gently she squeezed his sac and kissed the swollen head of his rod with all the welling tenderness in her heart. She felt more than a physical delight in what she did. Performing this act, she offered Nicholas everything she was.
A creamy pearl of liquid oozed out. Delicately, knowing he watched, she licked the drop. His broken groan filled her ears. For a moment, she savored his taste, watching his face, knowing her pleasure in pleasuring him fed his arousal.
Then because she ached to feel him inside her, she rose on her knees and sank down in one smooth movement. She sighed with perfect joy. He filled her, invading her soul as well as her body.
He palmed her breasts, rubbing her sensitive nipples until she trembled. The familiar quivers began in her belly and thighs but she resisted her climax. She wouldn’t relinquish this moment until she had to.
Completion hovered too near. She bit her lip and struggled not to move, to extend the searing prelude.
He arched and she clenched, wanting him to stay with her. The effort of holding back became too much. She muffled a sob and at last rose. The glide inside her set off wild bolts of reaction. When she lowered, that immediate feeling of wholeness gripped her.
Dear God, after this, would she ever feel whole again?
No, she wouldn’t think of the future. Not now. Now she wanted sensation and the knowledge that Nicholas was completely hers. If only for this moment.
She set an agitated rhythm. He seemed to understand her sudden need for sensual oblivion. His hands tightened on her breasts, driving her ever closer.
It couldn’t last. She ascended toward heaven with dizzying velocity. Too soon, the world exploded and she tumbled into flame. Her bones dissolved with rapture just as Nicholas gave a guttural groan and spilled himself. She flailed in vermillion darkness where the only reality was the powerful body claiming hers and her own shuddering reaction.
When she returned trembling to earth, she slumped over Nicholas’s chest and her cheeks were wet with tears she hadn’t known she shed. Outside the windows, the sky lightened with morning’s approach. She snatched a choked breath and told herself her brief folly ended in spectacular style.
The thought offered no consolation.
Chapter Twenty-three
Ranelaw lay beneath Antonia and let his heart steady from its wild race. Exhilaration, power, hope rushed through his veins. He felt strong enough to fight demons, battle monsters, ride the gale on a winged horse.
Early light filtered through the window and the candles guttered into puddles of wax. The night was almost over.
This night of miracles.
Antonia stirred. Already he knew what she meant to say. He didn’t want to listen. In mute denial, his hands tightened on her back.
“It’s morning,” she whispered, turning her head and resting her damp cheek on his ches
t. It seemed a gesture of trust, as though she felt safe in his arms, as though she wanted to stay there. Damn it, he wanted her to stay there too. He was too exhausted for the insidious thought to perturb him as it should.
