Sheltered(34)

She could see it right now, jutting up beneath such horribly thick material, and though he fought with her she knew that side of him was winning. His hands around her wrists were almost rough, suddenly. And when she stretched up to find his mouth again he didn’t exactly resist.

He just kept hold of her, as the kiss got steadily more frantic and far more interesting than anything they’d done before. She could hear him near moaning, into her mouth. His tongue didn’t so much dance with hers as tangle, and that hard, thick shape was getting awfully close to the hands he was still holding.

Or restraining, if she really wanted to be honest about it.

He’d kind of bound her wrists one over the other before she knew where she was at, and the more she tried to get at him the harder he held her. And though she knew it should have been a purely frustrating thing, for the first time it started to turn into something else.

She could feel it happening, slow and steady. Like that pulse between her legs, like the heavy weight of his body against hers. As much as she wanted to pull away, she wanted to go with it too—see where it went, maybe.

However, she still wasn’t prepared when he let go of her hands and took hold of her thighs instead, all quick and too firm and not like him at all. For a brief second she thought he might actually just go for it—it felt as if he was just going for it—only then those hands pulled on her, hard, and suddenly she found herself halfway down the bed. Almost completely exposed and definitely shocked by that fact, so open to him that he could have done anything, anything.

Yet he didn’t do anything. He didn’t look between her abruptly spread legs, or try to shove something in there. He just breathed out in a way that mirrored her own frustration exactly, before putting his mouth on her body in places his mouth had never been before. Hell, her body had never had a mouth in those places. She wasn’t even sure how such a thing was supposed to feel, and couldn’t quite process the sensation.

First there was heat, then the sense of something slick rubbing over the tender flesh of her breasts. And after that her mind went sort of blank, as warm jolts of pleasure skittered across her skin. As her sex pulsed once, lazily, to feel him licking there, so close to her stiff nipples.

It made her crazy to feel it, but that was fine. That was okay. He understood it all perfectly, she could tell. It was there, in the firmness of his grip at her hip. In the way he held her steady, as the first delicious shudders went through her.

He wanted her to feel secure in it. He wanted to communicate to her—This is what we’re going to do now. You want this stuff? This is what you’re going to get first.

And oh Lord there was something sweet about that. It put her in a different place—one where she didn’t have to be concerned about anything. He was holding her, and pushing his kisses on her, and she didn’t have to feel embarrassed or weird about any of it. She couldn’t even be concerned about her body and how it looked to someone like him—skin so pale, every part of it so excessive, somehow—because after a moment he murmured many good, good words against her breast.

Words like lovely and lush and ripe. And he did it all in that rich, chocolate voice of his, so overwhelming and shiver-making until he actually moved his mouth lower. Gripped her hips harder, leaned down over her more aggressively.

After which she wasn’t sure what she’d been thinking with that one word. Overwhelming didn’t even cover how it felt to have his lips close over one tense nipple, and then he sucked so slow and easy over it and God, God.

She couldn’t cope with the sensation. The word don’t almost came to her lips before she realized one important fact—he actually would, if she told him to. He’d stop, and Lord she didn’t want him to do that.

Her entire body seemed centered in that one tiny point. Spirals of sensation slid down from it, to find her already stiff clit and her ever-wet pussy. For the first time she fully appreciated the position she was in—legs open, his body almost in between—and how weak that hand on her suddenly was.

If she wanted to, she could have easily rubbed up against him. Easily—hell, maybe he even liked that idea. He certainly didn’t restrain her half so well when she arched up into that wet, hot caress, sounds spilling out of her. Face heating, hands scrabbling at his back.

That one word—don’t—turning into another.

“More. God, more, do it more.”

He didn’t resist, for once. He simply kissed a fizzing path between her breasts, until that tongue found the other nipple. And then he licked in a curling flick, those eyes of his suddenly on her, dark and lust-smoked.