Her eyes flew wide.
“Dominic!” she cried as he slipped one long finger inside.
And then she couldn’t think at all, breath panting from her parted lips as he caressed her in slow, deep, penetrating strokes. But he wasn’t content with that alone as he bent his head over her breast again, timing the sublime suction of his kisses to the movements of his hand.
Her fingers dug into the one of the silk pillows that was crushed between her hip and the side of the couch. She took it in a death grip, squeezing tight as an aching, agonizing desire built within her.
Every touch of his mouth and hands increased her need until she thought she might expire. She knew she must have died in truth when he eased back, only to return with two fingers, filling her, then stretching her wide as he scissored them apart.
A keening wail burst from her mouth, silenced seconds later as he covered her lips to swallow the sound. She shook, awash in the most powerful rapture she could imagine.
Liebling, she thought, crying the endearment in her head as she reverted in that moment to the language she had first been taught to speak.
She kissed him back with a wild reverence, soaring on a cloud of bliss. He stroked her hair, twining the long tresses over his wrist before gently arching her head back to nuzzle her neck where her pulse beat in a crazy tattoo.
A little laugh chimed from her lips—a giddy swell of happiness that refused to be muffled or restrained. Not that she was trying to restrain anything at the moment, too enthralled by his caresses to do more than respond.
Lifting his head, he met her gaze. “So you liked that, did you?” he asked with husky good humor.
Giggling, she nodded, drunk with delight.
“Good.” He sent her a thoroughly devilish smile. “Then I believe it deserves an encore.”
Before she even had time to consider that remark, his fingers began moving inside her again, his thumb doing something this time that must surely be illegal in certain parts of the world. Her hips arched instinctively to draw him deeper, her body growing increasingly hot and slick where his hand lay nestled between her patch of nether curls.
The reaction ought to have shamed her, she supposed, but she was beyond such concerns at the moment. Besides, Nick didn’t seem to mind that she was so wet, so why should she?
Thighs quivering, she let them loll wider, opening herself even more fully to his ministrations.
Suddenly, he caught her earlobe between his teeth, then released it to kiss her nape. “Touch me,” he said. “I want your hands on me.”
Her lashes fluttered open. “W-where?”
“Anywhere,” he told her, dappling her face and neck with kisses even as his fingers continued their luscious inner massage. “Everywhere. Just touch me.”
Raising her trembling hands, she laid them on the bare skin of his back. She felt his answering shudder, a low moan rising in his throat as she began to explore.
He was hard but smooth, his skin like satin yet tougher than her own. She roamed with an aimless, almost drugged curiosity, learning the shape of his form with its broad expanses of warm, sleek muscle and solid bone underneath.
Growing bolder, she traced the breath of his shoulders before gliding over the firm planes of his chest. Encountering the mat of short hair she’d seen earlier, she brushed her fingers over it, surprised by its soft, springy texture. Then she flicked one of his flat male nipples and drew a ragged groan from him.
“Again,” he ordered gruffly. “Do it again.”
She complied, enjoying the small quake that rippled through his muscles in reaction to her touch.
Her hands gripped him hard moments later as his fingers stroked with greater purpose within her. Breath thin, she panted as the heavenly pleasure built toward another peak. She hung on, needing it, needing him even more than she did her next breath.
Just another minute and she would claim that same sweet bliss, a little more and he would send her flying again.
Without warning, he suddenly withdrew, slipping his fingers out of her body to leave her stunned and aching.
She didn’t understand, her body protesting the loss.
Above her, he reached for the buttons on his falls and thumbed them open. His shaft sprang out, hard and heavy, as he pushed the cloth down his hips.
She stared, then stared some more, fascinated, yet suddenly, inexplicably afraid.
Surely he wasn’t going to try fit that inside her!
Catching hold of her chin, he tilted up her face so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes. “Don’t be scared,” he said tenderly. “You’ve liked everything so far, haven’t you?”
Numbly, she nodded.
“You’ll like this part too. I’ll make it good for you,” he promised. “Just trust me.”