I lift my chin. “I will not beg.”
He yanks up my chemise and slides his finger over my undergarment. “Not even for this?” With a swift move, he rotates until my back is against the mattress and pulls my thighs apart and kneels with his face hovering between my legs.
“That’s not fair.”
Mirth sparks in his eyes as he licks me through the fabric.
“Hector!” I buck against him again.
“Beg, Sol.”
“No,” I say, my voice low, hoarse, full of desire.
He loops his index finger into my undergarment and moves it aside enough for the cool air to tease my sensitive flesh, to arouse it, to make it burn.
“Hector…”
“Say it, Sol.”
I grab the back of his head and push him toward me. “Touch me. Lick me,please.”
Torchlight flares with the heat in his eyes as he leans over and touches his mouth to the area between my legs. He presses his hands against my thighs, his mouth working me, and I dig my fingers into the bedcover, holding on.
Heat floods through me as he moves one hand back to my hip, and the other one slides between my legs, two fingers slipping inside of me. I don’t even try to muffle the moan this time.
As the pleasure grows, I move against him, bucking my hips to meet his hand. He pulls away, and I whimper at the loss, just as he pushes his fingers into me faster. Then he wraps his lips around me again and circles my need with his tongue. It’s all I can do to not scream, to come undone beneath him.
What would he think if I did that? Shatter completely around him?
More!
I dig my hands into his hair, encouraging him as his slick fingers slide between my cheeks, pressing in, and I moan loudly. Not caring if anyone hears me. He slides his fingers in while licking me.
I thrash against him, wanting my summit, needing my summit. He keeps going, driving me closer and closer to that beautiful edge. That peak only he has ever driven me to. That peak I missed so much when we were apart.
My fingers tighten in his hair as I moan, the intense pleasure wracking my body as I reach my release.
He continues until the shudders stop. As he pulls away, he kisses my thighs. First the left, then the right, as if he’s leaving his mark on me, imprinting his mouth against my skin. He kisses up my stomach, to my breasts, and Ifeelhim, hard and ready.
I grip his backside, and he flips us around until I’m on top.
“Ride me,” he growls.
Need consumes me as I sink against him, allowing him to impale me, to take from me, to dive so deep, I feel him—every hard inch.
He grabs my hands, gripping them as his eyes take me in, like he’s speaking his affection for me through his touch.
As he rolls his hips, I meet him, sinking against him.
“Harder, Sol,” he orders.
I plant my hands against his shoulders, pull myself upright, and let my body fall back down on him.
“Good,” he says. “More.”
Desire floods through my veins as I vigorously slam against him. When I repeat the motion, he groans.
It’s all the encouragement I need.
