He snorted. "I insist we read these romance novels together."
"Maybe I'll let you read mine. I've already written the opening."
"Well, I just figured out what I want you to give me for my six hundred and fourth birthday. Your first romance novel."
She nearly choked on her tongue. "You're six hundred and three? Years old?" Just to be clear.
Mind...can't...handle...
She backed away from that subject. For now. "Never mind. My head might exploded if we discuss our age difference. You have the strength to tell me the secret spot on a woman's body," she pointed out. "The place that brings maximum pleasure. So tell!"
"I'll tell you-" he nuzzled the side of her cheek "-for a kiss."
Ah, she loved his bargaining. "Only one," she said throatily, grinding against the erection pressed against her lower back.
He hissed in a breath. "Keep doing that, and I'll tell you anything you want to know. Even my deep, dark secrets."
Up, down she moved. "Start with the pleasure spot."
His hands tightened on her waist. "Close your eyes," he commanded softly.
They'd made love only an hour ago, but it felt like an eternity. She needed him inside her again. Addicting...that's what he was.
"Shaye." He tsk-tsked. "Close. Your. Eyes."
Her eyelids fluttered shut. Darkness blanketed her mind. His hands glided over her shoulders, caressed her neck, then dipped to her breasts, kneading.
"Picture what I'm doing to you."
"I thought-"
"This is how I'm going to tell you, promise."
Picture it, he'd said, so she did. In her mind, she could see the thickness of his hands covering the pale mounds of her breasts. Her nipples, pink and pearled, peaked through the crevices of his fingers. Pleasure spiraled through her, hot and needy. Seemingly unquenchable.
Unbidden, her legs spread, silently begging for his attention. A single touch, a pinch, something. Anything. She ached, oh, she ached.
One of Valerian's hands glided down her stomach. She felt it, yes, just the way she'd wanted it, but more than that she continued to see it in her mind. Another picture of them. Valerian behind her, this time with his hand between her legs, parting her wet folds. But he didn't touch her where she needed him most. Not yet. He stayed poised, inches above her entrance.
"What do you picture?" His voice was strained, as if he required all his strength to remain still.
"You. Me."
"Do you see me licking you here or sliding my fingers into you?"
"F-fingers," she managed.
"Are they moving slowly, savoring or pounding in and out?"
As he spoke, images flooded her. Yet he didn't do anything, didn't do what she needed. Her hips moved forward, seeking. Back, seeking. Forward, back. Writhing and arching.
"Touch me, Valerian. Please."
"I thought you were too sore."
"But now I'm dying for you."
His warm breath fanned her skin. "Tell me. What do you see right this second? Are my fingers moving slowly or quickly?"
"Quickly. Hard." Her breath caught. Water sloshed over the pool's rim. "So hard."
He pinched her nipple, and a lance of desire hit directly between her legs. She cried out, loving the amazing torment.
"Shaye. Moon. Your mind shows you the things your body needs before you actually know you need them."
No more talking, she wanted to shout. Make love to me. But still she said, "I don't understand."
"The most erotic place on a woman's body is her mind. By giving her the right images, a man can increase her pleasure a hundred times over." He bit her ear. "Lean forward for me, Moon. I'll give you fast and hard."
She did, and even that served as a stimulant. The water stroked between her legs, making her shiver.
"Hold on to the ledge," Valerian said.
Angling forward a few more inches, she curled her hands as instructed. Her breasts and hips were out of the water now, granting Valerian a full view of her from behind.
A long while passed in silence. She stayed where she was, anticipating the first touch. Wet hair tumbled down her back and shoulders. Some of the ends trod the water's surface.
When would he caress her? She needed him to caress her. "Valerian?"
"You are magnificent," he said, his voice heavy with awe. He traced the tattoo on her lower back.
A shiver danced through her.
"I like this," he said. "A skull with a pretty bow on top. It's a mark that says you are both warrior and woman." His lips brushed the tattoo; the hot wetness of his tongue traced it. He kissed his way up her spine and grazed the back of her neck, smoothing her hair aside to get to her.
"The first time I saw you," she said, "I thought you were a god, rising from the sea."