Dances with Monsters(141)

"Yes."

He wanted to curse, he wanted to sink his teeth into her neck, but he restrained himself, focusing on the slow, deep thrusts she seemed to be enjoying. He lifted his head and looked down at her. It was a bad idea; he had looked into the face of a woman riding a high wave of arousal and pleasure, and it almost undid him. He lowered his face to her neck quickly, but the image of her heavy-lidded eyes, narrowed to slits from the surges of pleasure she was feeling, her full, plump, pouty lips parted to let her sighs and pin-drop soft moans escape unhindered, her cheeks flushed and her dark hair fluffed around her like a silken, wavy halo was seared into his brain like it had been put there with a branding iron. He felt his scrotum jerk as his testes tightened up, preparing for their imminent release.

Don't fucking do it, he warned himself, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing his breathing to regulate. Do not fucking do it.

"Heath," she whispered, and he cringed. Hearing his name uttered while she was in such a state of arousal was not helping him out. He lifted his head again and used the hand in her hair to tilt her head toward his so he could take her mouth and silence any other unbearably sexy utterances slipping between her lips. After a few moments, she pulled her mouth from his slightly to whisper again.

"Harder," she breathed against his lips. He clenched his jaw again as his hips moved of their own accord, as if they heard the request too and were only too happy to acquiesce. She was going to kill him. But he was determined not to climax until she reached hers, even if he died in the process. But if she kept making these types of requests, he couldn't guarantee he would survive to see the end result.

He lowered his mouth to her breast as he moved, his tongue slipping out to tease the erect, pink nub, making her gasp sharply and tangle the fingers of one hand in his hair. He drew it into his mouth, trying to focus solely on that and not the way her walls kept clamping down around him and how she only seemed to be getting wetter and wetter. He teethed her nipple lightly, smiling when she squealed, moaning when she began lifting her hips off the bed to meet each of his thrusts. He pulled away from her breast, moving back up toward her mouth. He meant to tell her she couldn't do that, that this would be over too soon, but the sight of her opened mouth, her lips so plump and moist and inviting, made him forget about what he wanted to say and instead of using his lips and tongue to talk to her, he used them to taste her mouth. The simultaneous feeling of her tongue sliding and twisting against his while her hips thrust back against him, deepening the penetration that much more, made him realize that he was fighting a losing battle against himself. The warm heat that had been coiling in his pelvis started pulling tighter and tighter; he felt as though every drop of blood in his body had gone to set up shop inside his member, as it felt literally rock hard, heralding the arrival of his release sooner than he preferred.

He removed his hand from her hair and slipped it down between their bodies, between her legs, and began to stroke her with his fingers in the way he knew all too well that she liked. Her eyes flew open and she looked at him, letting another of those soft moans pass her lips as her body responded to the new set of sensations he was giving her. Her head tilted back into the pillow as her breathing increased. He licked his tongue along the line of her throat, glancing down and seeing her abdominal muscles contract. His lips set up camp in the hollow of her throat as he stroked her, and not too much longer after that, he felt her tiny pearl start to harden and swell against his fingertip, signaling her impending release. His hips never stopped moving, although hers had thankfully settled back onto the bed, stilling at the first touch of his fingers. Suddenly her breaths sped up, building on top of each of other, and her moans joined them, building in volume and length. They began as soft little pants, and by the time a real, throaty moan erupted from her throat, her whole body seized and her legs tightened around him and a soft string of unintelligible curses fell from her lips. It was, hands down, the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed, and although he knew he shouldn't be watching her as it ratcheted up his own need to release, he couldn't look away.

"Heath!" she breathed rapturously, finally opening her eyes and staring up at him. His teeth sank into his lower lip as he met her gaze, silently begging his body to give him just a little bit longer. Her hands slid down his back to his hips and she took ahold of them firmly.

"Faster," she commanded in a whisper, and he actually groaned, not only from pleasure but also because that was the final request he dreaded her making. Deep, hard, and fast—this would be over before either one of them knew it.