“Hold on to me.” Christus urged my arms up to his shoulders, and I exhaled sharply in surprise when he hefted my weight off of the counter.
“Broken pottery. Your feet are bare.”
He carried me as if I weighed nothing at all, moving to the back of the room, where our bedrolls were. Before we made it all the way, he stopped, pressing me against the wall as he bit at my now hypersensitive neck. “Which one?”
“Yours.” I wanted to be surrounded by his scent. The cool stone was a sharp contrast to the heat of his body at my front. I laughed breathlessly and surprised myself with the joyful sound. It was so rare for me to feel lighthearted, and I felt as if I was floating.
I felt the answering curve of his lips against my neck. A chuckle escaped his throat as he pressed me back against the wall before sliding me slowly, so slowly, down the hard length of his body.
My nose was level with his chest when my feet again touched the floor. I leaned in and ran my cheek across the hard expanse of his pectorals, inhaling that mixture of musk and man that was so unique to Christus.
His knee found its way between my thighs. I did not think I had ever felt anything as good as the friction of his leg against my cleft. I found myself grinding down shamelessly, the thin leather of my subligaculum between my own legs growing wet with want.
Lowering his forehead to press against mine, Christus let our breaths intermingle as he slowly removed the remaining layers of leather that covered my skin. My top had already been hanging loose, so he simply lowered each strap slowly down my shoulders, one at a time. I felt it whisk against my leg on its way to the floor.
When he lowered a hot, wet mouth to my nipple, I saw flashes of color behind my eyes, fuchsia, tangerine, and bloodred. The colors swirled in a seductive dance as my nerves flew and my blood pumped hot and fast.
Suckling hard, he drew my nipple right into his mouth, then scraped the edge of his teeth gently over the incredibly sensitive nub. I cried out, shaking with need.
After a minute of that sucking, or maybe it had been an hour, I began to buck against him. My fingers again found the skin of his trim waist, and I traced fingers over his lean hips and down.
I exhaled sharply when I reached behind him to knead my hands into his ass and found nothing but smooth skin.
His ass was firm from physical labor, and my fingers danced over it delightedly. Taking a deep breath, I worked up the nerve to move those same fingers over his sculpted hipbones and to the taut expanse of his lower belly, which was right above the area that I really wanted to explore.
Muttering a curse, Christus slid one of his hands down to join mine. I thought that he might be taking my hand away, but instead he urged my eager hands down, slowly down, where he wrapped our intertwined fingers around the girth of his cock.
I hissed in a breath when I again touched the hot silk of his skin, tentatively at first. Then more eagerly as I grew bolder, I explored the length and width of his erection, memorizing the feel of the swollen veins, throbbing with need, and the way he quivered when I ran a finger over the fleshy tip.
I repeated my gesture, closing my hand over his shaft once more, moving it experimentally up and down. He moaned and untangled his fingers from mine. They moved to splay over my belly, nudging at the leather of my subligaculum, which had gotten caught between our bodies.
“Step out.” I shook first my right foot, then my left, kicking out of the confining leather. Christus hooked a finger in each side of my leather and slowly drew it down, letting it fall to the floor.
Then we were naked and pressed together, and I felt like I was flying.
“Open your legs.” There was no thought in my mind but to obey. I widened my stance, even though it meant that the stone of the wall pulled at the skin of my back painfully. Christus’ fingers found the slick entrance to my cleft, and the discomfort at my back was not even real anymore.
He stroked a single finger slowly between my lower lips, and I hissed in a breath. Apart from the night before, I had not been touched there in so very long, and never with such a sure and sweet caress. Need began to swirl through my every fiber, climbing, and I knew that I needed something to release or I would shatter into a million tiny fragments.
Christus’ finger parted my folds, then brushed against my clit. My knees threatened to give out. My whole being became centered on that touch, that single finger anchoring me.
The rough edge of his callused finger scraped and felt so good when he began to slowly trace a path around that tender, engorged nub. He circled slowly, around and around, again and again, until I felt like a wave was about to crash over me, that that same rush of pleasure from the night before would soon drown me.