Enticed by His Forgotten Lover(42)
“Bryony,” he whispered.
She took him hard, loving and licking every inch of him. She wanted to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her. She wanted to show him her love—her heart.
She settled between his legs, her hair drifting down over his hips. His fingers gentled against her scalp and stroked lovingly as she continued making love to him.
He made low sounds of appreciation and of pleasure and he began thrusting upward, seeking more of her mouth. Finally it seemed to be too much for him to bear.
He grasped her shoulders and hauled her up his body until she straddled him.
She scooted up until his erection was against her belly and she carefully wrappped her fingers around his length. Instinctively she glanced back up, seeking direction. He held out his hands for her to grab and when she did, he pulled her toward him.
“Take me,” he whispered. “I made you mine again. Now make me yours.”
Oh, how seductive his husky words were. Prickles of anticipation licked over her skin like flames to dry wood. She rose up, using his hands to brace herself with. Their fingers slid together, twining, symbolic of their joining. She arched over him and he let one of her hands go long enough to position himself at her opening.
As soon as she began the delicious slide downward, he laced their fingers back again and she began the delicate mating dance of a woman reclaiming her man.
Before she’d never felt bold enough to take the initiative in their lovemaking. Rafael had always been the one to take control, had always seen to her pleasure before his own. And yet she preferred this man who wanted her so badly that he found his release before her, who was so lost in passion that he couldn’t control his response. This man seemed more…real.
Now she delighted in teasing him, pleasuring him, taking control and driving him crazy with desire.
It was a heady, intoxicating feeling that only heightened as she watched him through half-lidded eyes.
He squeezed her hands and then took his away from hers. He caressed her hips then slid his palms up her sides to cup her breasts, toying and teasing her nipples as she undulated atop him.
His eyes glittering and his mouth tight, he lowered one hand, splayed it over her pelvis and dipped his thumb between their bodies to rub gently over her clitoris.
She flexed and spasmed around him and they both gasped. He stroked harder, finding a rhythm she responded to, and with his other hand, he caressed and plucked at her nipples, alternating until she was nearly mindless.
How quickly he’d turned the tables. Though she was on top, taking him in and out of her body at her leisure, his hands worked magic, finding all her sweet spots.
“Come for me, Bryony,” he said. “I want to feel your heat around me as you come apart.”
Her head fell back. Her entire body trembled. Her knees shook where they dug into the mattress. Beautiful, intense, vicious tension coiled low in her belly, spread to the spots he so expertly stroked and then it gathered and burst in all directions.
The force of her orgasm was staggering. She fell forward, but he was there to catch her. She braced her hands on his chest, not wanting to leave him, not wanting to stop until he found his own release, but she couldn’t be still.
She writhed uncontrollably. All the while he held her and stroked his hands over her body as he whispered her name over and over in her ear.
She heard a sob, an exclamation of pleasure and knew it was herself, but it sounded so distant that it seemed impossible it could have come from her.
When her strength sagged from her, he simply held her hips and took over, thrusting upward into her still quivering body until he went tense underneath her.
Then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down until there was no space separating them. He thrust one last time and then they both went limp on the bed.
She was sprawled atop him. She probably resembled a dishrag, but she couldn’t muster the energy to care.
He rubbed his hand up and down her back, down over her buttocks and then back up to tangle in her hair. He kissed her forehead and then ran his fingers through her hair again.
“That was incredible.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed.
He stroked her arm in a lazy pattern. “What happened here, Bryony? It sure as hell wasn’t just sex. I’ve had just sex before. This doesn’t qualify.”
“No,” she said in a low voice. “It wasn’t just sex.”
“Then what was it?”
She raised her head and stared down into his eyes. “It was making love, Rafael. I love you. You loved me. I’d like to think that didn’t just go away. Some things the heart knows even if the mind hasn’t accepted it or has blocked it out.”
“It scares the hell out of me that something this huge could be forgotten. I haven’t loved anyone before.”