In a split second she was disappointed that she couldn’t see him, that she couldn’t explore him in the pure light at her leisure, but almost immediately she stuffed the thought back into the nasty little box from which it had come out.
No regrets. No regrets tonight. Tonight was hers. His. Theirs.
In dimness.
In dimness she could be anything, his every fantasy, her every fantasy. Darkness was her friend.
Rick was her lover.
He shifted, his arm moving, and she gasped as he cupped her mound, his fingers sliding through the curls protecting her secrets, one long finger pushing relentlessly between the swollen folds of her labia to rub against the slickness spilling from her.
“Rick…” His name was a moan in the night.
“Cherry.” Her name was rasp of hedonistic heat.
And then that long finger was inside her, pushing deep, alien and thrilling all at once. Her thighs clamped shut as she sought to pull him out, keep him in, straining up on her tiptoes.
Rick’s laugh was all male, possessive and satisfied. “You’re mine, Cherry.” He withdrew his finger, dragging along the side of her sheath deliberately, making her squirm against him as he pressed her body between his and the hard surface of the wooden door. He slid his finger out of her and up to caress the little clitoris budding higher up in her folds.
Cherry nearly shattered on the spot. Desire coursed through her like quicksilver, hot and hard and cutting with splintering pleasure. She arched into him, thrusting her hips unashamedly against his burgeoning staff. “Please. Please, Rick.”
“Like that, do you?” He kissed her hard, almost ruthless, his finger sliding down to unerringly enter her again, twisting his finger from side to side as he did so, heightening her pleasure. Pushing her onwards. “Tell me, love. Do you like that?”
“Yes. Yes!” A surge of heat almost took her somewhere as his other hand was also between her thighs, one dexterous finger of it playing with her clitoris while his other finger slid in and out of her, slow and deliberate and pressing against the side of her sheath.
Every sensation tumbling through her made her throw her head back and gasp for air as colours flashed before her eyes.
“Oh, no, sweetheart.” His murmur was hot and husky. “Not just yet.”
Removing his hands, he took her hips in a firm grasp. In one momentum, he turned both himself and Cherry around and using his body to crowd her back towards the bed, he looked down at her.
She knew he couldn’t see her clearly, but the same was true for her, and she felt his disappointment. As her knees nudged the bed, she saw the glitter of determination in his eyes.
“Tonight you win,” he whispered almost savagely. “But next time it’s on my terms, Cherry.”
Before she could even think past her passion-drugged haze, he tipped her back onto the bed. Looming over her, his hands rested just above her knees, moving up smoothly to grip her hips. The dimness shadowed his features, but she felt the very prurience in the air. He bent low, and his mouth was on her belly, lips hot, teeth sharp as he nipped the tender flesh, laving it roughly with his tongue, sending sensations rioting through her.
He moved higher leisurely, every movement slow and deliberate and edged with hunger. Hunger for her, for her body, for her pleasure. For his pleasure.
When she tried to sit up, he laid a hand flat on her belly and pushed her back down. Without missing a beat he pressed open kisses to her skin, moving up her body.
Heart pounding, fire in her veins, she arched back, reaching above her to grasp the coverlet and hang on as every kiss he pressed to her skin seemed to jerk on the erotic strand of lust that spiralled off into secret places that ached with need.
She felt the heat of him coming over her, the roughness of his calves as they rubbed against her smooth skin. Lowering her eyelids, she watched breathlessly as he crawled up her body with sensuous, hungry movements. An illusion of a craven beast – or was it an illusion? His eyes glittered in the dimness, and even in the shadows she recognized the rapacity of his gaze and movements.
Hungry for her.
Craving her.
Needing her.
Wanting her.
Determined to have her.
Her fantasy come to life.
Then fantasy fled to be replaced with the real thing. Firm male lips closed around one nipple, a rough tongue curling around the sensitive bud, and he sucked her into his hot mouth.
Fingers wringing the coverlet, she pulled the thick fabric as she closed her eyes and moaned with every strong suck of that talented mouth.
Coolness suddenly hit her nipple, a rough swipe of the tongue over it making her shudder, and then that hot mouth engulfed her other nipple, sucking it in deep, tongue curling around it, a growl of hunger in his throat as he feasted.