Her fingers tangled in his hair, hanging on to him as she responded with little moans against his tongue and he fed on her sweet, spicy nectar that blotted out memory, blotted out everything but this moment, this need.
She uttered a soft cry as he broke off to get rid of her top, her bra and then leaned back with a sigh of contentment as he took his mouth, his tongue on a slow exploration of her body.
Definitely no talking...
EIGHT
Tash was incapable of coherent speech as Darius, his hands cradling her backside, sucked on the sensitive spot beneath her chin, curled his tongue around the horseshoe bone at the base of her throat, trailed hot, moist kisses between her breasts.
She whimpered as he ignored them and kept on going down, down, then he hit her navel and his tongue did things that had her gasping, breathless, climbing up him with her legs.
He propped her on the counter without missing a beat, then, with his hands free, he pushed up her skirt and slid his hand beneath the scrap of lace, pressing his thumb against the hot, swollen little button screaming for attention, then slowly circled it, in time with his tongue.
‘Unngh...’ she said, grabbing the collar of his polo shirt and hauling it, hand over hand, until it was over his head, then swallowed as she got the full impact of his powerful shoulders, arms moulded by the heaving of tons of clay, stone, metal, his broad chest arrowing to a narrow waist, hips, a mouth-watering bulge...
‘Want to do it here?’ he asked, his eyes burnished coal, teasing her with the tip of his finger before plunging it deep inside her.
‘Unngh uuuunngh,’ she urged, tightening around it, wanting more, wanting everything.
‘Or would you rather move this to a nice safe bed?’
Safe...
There was nothing safe about this except the leaving-nothing-to-chance protection she’d stowed in the tiny seam pocket of her skirt and she answered him by taking it out, holding it between her teeth as, never taking her eyes from his, she tugged on his belt, flipped the button...
She looked up and, taking the condom from between her lips, he lowered his mouth to within a breath of hers and said, ‘Don’t stop now.’
He closed the gap, taking the word ‘kiss’ to a whole new meaning as, fingers shaking, she lowered his zip with the utmost care, eased her hands inside his jeans and pushed them down, releasing him. Clung to his hips as he disposed of her underwear, sheathed himself.
Then he looked up, straight into her eyes. ‘Ready?’ he asked.
‘No talking,’ she whispered and he was inside her with a thrust that went to her toes, held it while she caught her breath, opened her eyes. ‘Don’t stop now,’ she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, taking in everything he had to give.
He gave it slowly, totally focused on her, reading her response to every thrust, every touch, taking this most basic of all acts and, instead of snatching for swift satisfaction, raising it into something new, something extraordinary, only taking his own release when he’d brought her to the point of incoherent howling meltdown.
Tash, shaking, shattered, wasn’t sure which of them was supporting the other, only that they were holding each other, her cheek pressed into the hollow of his shoulder, listening to his heart return to a slow steady thud, breathing in the arousing scent of fresh sweat. All she knew was that she was glad she’d shut the kitchen window. That it was double-glazed...