He let go of my rear end completely and used his thumbs to trace across the big lotus flower that marked one side of my hipbone and the arching, sprawling cherry blossom that decorated the other. They were both delicately done and popped brightly against my dark skin.
“Beauty against all odds and the fragility of life.” His voice was hushed as he bent down and dropped a kiss on my clavicle.
“I guess that’s one advantage of getting naked with a tattoo artist—it cuts down on the show-and-tell.”
He laughed a little and I felt it all the way to my core because he was bending me over one of his arms that he had snaked behind my back and using my new arched position to circle each pierced nipple with his tongue. I was pretty sure nothing in my entire life had ever felt that awesome. Each peak puckered and pulled at the attention, and when he used his teeth and sucked the little metal ring into his mouth, it made them hot and wet when they landed back against my skin. I really thought I was going to die from sensation overload.
I was clutching at his shoulders to try and stay somewhat grounded and not totally get lost in the pleasure when he moved a single step closer and I lost my balance and toppled over onto my back, hitting the mattress with a little bounce. He was looming over me and the smile on his face couldn’t be called anything but wicked.
He kissed my breastbone right between the full swell of each breast and drew a moist line all the way down the center of my body with his tongue, stopping to dip it in my navel and to put biting little kisses on each of my tattoos that framed the very exposed, very sensitive part of my body he was obviously heading toward.
“Rowdy . . .” It was part question, part demand because I was ready for him. I felt like I had been waiting for this, for him to put his hands on me, for him to put his mouth on me forever, even though it had only been a handful of weeks.
He blew out a breath that made my already damp folds quiver in need and I felt him chuckle against the soft skin of my stomach.
“I’ve heard you say my name in a lot of ways, Salem. Gotta say hearing you say it in bed when I’m about to eat you up is probably my favorite to date.”
I was going to tell him to go to hell but lost the ability to think, to speak, when without any warning he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and pulled me to his face. It was too much. Too intimate. Too invasive and intense. It was the best thing ever. The boy really was beyond good with his mouth.
He ran his tongue the entire length of my opening. He put my legs over his shoulders and gripped my ass in hard hands as he explored every inch of my quaking and spasming inside with his mouth. I squirmed on the bed, the pleasure almost too much to handle as he used the edge of his teeth on my clit. Sensation raced along every nerve ending I had and I couldn’t breathe past everything I was feeling.
I got a handful of his hair to keep me tethered in the moment and must have given it a harder yank than I intended because he hissed out a breath that I felt on every damp surface of skin I had between my legs. He muttered something dark and sexy that I couldn’t make out and snaked one of his hands from my rear to the front, and just as he trapped that little tiny bud of desire between his teeth and sucked—hard—he maneuvered his very talented digits in to replace his stroking and seeking tongue and I lost my mind.
The double stimulation, the twist and twirl of his strong fingers combined with the relentless suction of his hot mouth, was too much to take. There was no buildup, no steady climb to a blissful orgasm. No, instead it all barreled at me in a blinding rush that swept me away on a wave of overwhelming pleasure and release. It made him chuckle again, which had ripples of undiluted gratification chasing the sound along all the sensitive flesh he was still manipulating and playing with.
I had never had an orgasm that actually made me hurt before. It hurt so good that I felt it in every cell, in every breath, in every blink as I peeled my eyes open and tried to remember where I was, who I was, and who I was with.
I still had ahold of his hair, so I gave it a tug to get him to let up on all my quaking folds. He let my legs slide limply off his shoulders and crawled up the bed so that he was hovering over me. He braced himself over me with his hands on either side of my head as he smirked down at me. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
“Oh, Salem . . .” He let out a long sigh and bent to kiss me on the temple. “You’re without a doubt going to me make so glad we’re both all grown up.”
That was the sweet, flirty side of him he usually reserved for everyone else but me. I knew it for exactly what it was. A way to keep this on a light and playful level. A way to keep it in perspective, because even though I had been the one on the receiving end of his attentions while he teased and played with me, I knew he had felt the deeper connection we had, too. There was doubt that something was happening between us that had shades of the past and flavors of the future all mixed together in one giant ball of emotion and experience.