Making Mina Strings Attached(20)

It was so different from the last time they’d been in this position. Still fueled by passion, it was grounded in knowledge rather than mystery. Desire burned between them, but it was tempered by experience. Mina wasn’t hungry for knowledge, she was hungry for him,—the whole of him—and she reveled in having him and being had by him.

Marco shifted down the bed, the hands that she’d been fascinated by from the beginning caressing her languidly, drifting across her skin, setting off tremors in her abdominal muscles and waves of goose bumps. She shifted towards him trying to get closer to his heat, but just as she’d feel the rough hair on his arm, or the calloused ridges on his fingertips they’d ghost away leaving her aching for me.

“Touch me,” she said. She raised her arms to wrap around him, but Marco pushed them back down, trailing along lightly in a silent apology as he murmured, “Patience. We have all the time in the world.”

Time dilated and Marco’s every movement took forever. He touched and kissed her, a single possessive swipe of his tongue over a nipple, or into her navel… they added up to a tsunami of sensation, flooding her, making her feel like there was nothing to her but nerves. Nerves that were on fire for him.

Mina moaned, a low vibration in her throat, and Marco moved lower. Her pretty under things were nothing but a memory, stripped away and thrown across the room so he had better access to her, and she gasped as he stroked her slick folds.

“So wet,” he said, his fingers sliding easily over her, “I love that you get this way for me. So excited, so hungry.” His finger dipped deeper, wrenching a cry from her, and she lifted her hips off the bed in a desperate attempt to get more contact.

Marco pulled his fingers away and Mina cried out again, this time in protest, only to have the sound stop dead in her throat when he replaced his fingers with his lips. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt a man’s mouth on her—he’d made sure of that when they were together before—but without the buzz of alcohol buffering her nerves she felt as if he’d placed a live wire against her clit.

“Too much,” she whimpered under him, “I can’t… oh God, please.” She was barely coherent, the intensity of the sensations driving her to the brink of sanity. Marco lifted his head, his dark eyes intent on her, his hands gripping the tops of her thighs. His fingers splayed across her hips, and his thumbs pulled her swollen folds apart, exposing her glistening depths to his gaze. Her nerves were stretched almost to the breaking point: his breath was hot, his lips soft, but his tongue was almost cruel as it lashed her tender skin, sliding over her, tracing the length of her slit, and then flicking insistently across her clit. Mina watched him breathlessly, mesmerized by his single-minded seduction. She couldn’t pull her gaze from the dark head between her legs, as he advanced and retreated, again and again, until she thought she’d go crazy from the assault.

“Marco,” she moaned. She dragged her fingers through his hair, and she heard an answering growl from the man in question. Rather than easing up, though, his ministrations intensified as he refused to allow her to come away from the ragged edge, never relenting in his pursuit of her pleasure. She twisted futilely, trying to ease the pressure building under her skin, as he slipped one finger and then two into her heated depths. He blew softly over her heated flesh and she felt him smile as the electric sensation jolted through her causing her to whimper and shiver. Finally, Mina’s hoarse pleas were silenced as Marco sucked the entirely of her clit into his mouth, stroking the hard hooded nub until her climax shattered around her. He stayed with her, sucking and licking lightly until she unwrapped herself from around him, falling back on the coverlet in an exhausted heap. He could feel her muscles trembling with aftershocks, and he stared up at her in the half-light, his eyes hot and possessive as they trailed over her.

“Oh Mina,” he murmured against her wet skin. “You are so beautiful. You cannot know how I love seeing you like this.”

Mina watched in breathless silence as he raised up, looming over her. Slowly he unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging out of it, his tanned skin almost disappearing in the gloom as the white material pooled silently around her. A glint and a metallic clink let her know he was unbuckling his belt, the whisper of fabric as his trousers slid to the floor her only warning before he moved back up her body, the naked heat of him a shocking contrast to the cool of the air-conditioned room.

His erection pressed against her, hot and heavy, and she felt an answering heat curling low in her belly. Her earlier orgasm seemed forever ago, and desire swept greedily through her. Mina’s hands itched to touch him—to feel the soft furring of hair on his chest, to twist the little copper circles of his nipples—and she reached out blindly to find him in the darkness. Her fingers clutched at broad shoulders and she pulled him down to her.