She stared down at him, gasping for air, and he smiled. “Not yet.” She was wet, and she could feel that wetness seeping from her, running down between her lips. His fingers explored then, pushing through her wetness, plunging into her sheath as it clenched around him. She could feel the wetness trickling down over her bottom, and when he pulled his fingers from her sex, he looked. It felt practically gynecological, and she wondered if this position was rather procedural to him. If it was, it was a damn good procedure to use in the bedroom.
His eyes followed the trail of her cum, and he licked his middle finger before reaching to her once more. She assumed he was going to continue the invading thrust, but he didn’t, and she felt his finger running gently over the puckered skin of her anus—gently spreading the wetness before he pushed into her bottom. The invasion was completely unfamiliar, and her feet slipped from the bedrails as her legs tightened. “Relax.” His voice was warm, and the seduction was there. Her feet hung in the air until he used his free hand to help her find the rail again, and when her feet were planted, he pushed in farther.
“Darren.” She didn’t even mean to say his name, but it tumbled out as she felt his finger slide deeper into her bottom, and he shifted his focus to her eyes. Her eyes were tearing, but it wasn’t pain—hell it wasn’t even fear; she was just falling apart, and she was trembling from head to toe. He stood in a flash, and he leaned over her, easing her back onto the bed. His finger stayed still within her between their bodies, and he hovered low to her face, watching her eyes.
“I won’t hurt you. Tell me to stop and I will. But if you relax and let me go deeper, you won’t regret it.” She nodded, and he did too. He licked his lips, and when he leaned to her mouth and kissed her, he moaned into her mouth. He pushed his tongue past her lips, and she closed her eyes. She knew his kiss. It had been years since she’d felt his tongue in her mouth, tasting, exploring, and licking every ounce of her mouth, but she remembered it as if it was yesterday. His middle finger pushed farther as his tongue ran over hers, and his lips stifled the cry she couldn’t contain. It was a good cry, though, and he knew it. He was sliding his long, masculine finger deep into her bottom, slowly pushing and slipping through the wetness to her depths, and all she could do was whimper into his mouth.
He licked and kissed as his finger started pulling and pushing, over and over, and she relaxed to the sensation. She loved it. It was an intimacy she needed him to have, and when he pulled back from her mouth, it was to watch her as his finger thrust. He studied her reaction to his invasion, and every time she gasped and whimpered, she could feel his cock flexing and twitching against her stomach.
His thumb stroked over her clitoris, swirling around it, and the ecstasy pulsed through her core, but when his thumb passed down over her clit and then found her entry, pushing gently inside her vagina, she stilled and clenched tight. The fullness was staggering for a moment, and she didn’t know how to make her muscles relax. He lowered himself back down between her legs. “Sit up. Watch me.” She pushed herself back up to sit. “Now relax.” He moved his fingers slightly, gently pulsing them inside her, but not thrusting. He was waiting for her to relax, and as she watched his fingers and watched him studying what he was doing to her, the wetness built again, and she relaxed around him. “There you go.”
He leaned to her, latching to her clit again, and as he sucked, lashed, and licked her into a state of insanity, he started thrusting again. At first the movement was slow, but it built slowly to an intensity she wasn’t sure she could handle. He slipped easily into her, his middle finger still plunging into her bottom as his thumb plunged into her pussy. The trembles returned, and she was gasping as though she might pass out at any moment, but she watched. She watched his eyes, and he refused to look away from her, and then with one powerful push of his tongue up against her clit, she came.
She cried out loudly, and her feet slipped off the rail again as she fell back onto the bed. His fingers still invaded, but the speed was slowing, and then it stilled. He slipped slowly from her, leaving her feeling empty and hollow, but it didn’t last. He pushed her thighs back with his hands as he kissed her passionately again, licking around the still tight nub of her clit, and then he stood, leaning over her body and back to her mouth. But he didn’t kiss her this time. His mouth touched hers, and he spoke, letting the vibration tingle an incredible caress across her lips.
“You’re so delicious. Taste my lips.” She did. She licked along his lower lip as he breathed into her mouth, and she tasted the subtle musky flavor of her own body. When she pulled his top lip between hers, he groaned, and she sucked. She could still feel his hard length against her stomach, and she shuddered as it touched her skin.
She released his lip, and he chuckled as he looked down at her. He looked so much like her Darren she almost cried. He smiled gently, seductively, and he either could feel no pain from her or he simply wasn’t willing to let it touch him. But he was there, smiling, enticing, and toying with her. It took nothing but the glint in his eye, the arc of his brow as he waited for her response. She nodded like an idiot. Her brain was saying I love you over and over again as she stared at him. But her mouth wasn’t working, and even if it would, she couldn’t say that to him. She didn’t have a clue what to do, and so she stared, she nodded, she gulped down air, and she just plain tried not to fall apart in front of the man she loved and whom she was going to leave in the morning to save them both.
Chapter Forty-Three
Deciding to make love to her and agreeing on it didn’t make it any easier to take that step. He loved what they’d just done. He loved it because it was her, and she was everything. She consumed him in the best possible ways and in the worst. Right now, it was all about the best of her, the best of him. He’d wanted to make love to her for as long as he could recall. It was literally always there in his mind. The desire, the need, and in many ways, the understanding that they would. They had to. It wasn’t possible not to. They were just fucking supposed to.
She was lying next to him on her side, watching him as he watched her. They did a lot of watching. They always had. They liked to look, study, stare . . . hell, even glare—a lot lately especially, though it hadn’t always been that way. But it didn’t really matter how they looked, just that they looked, constantly, incessantly, obsessively.
He loved her lips. They were angelic, sweet, delicious. He hadn’t kissed her until tonight, and he suddenly had no idea why he wouldn’t have before. He’d eaten her pussy, she’d sucked him off, he’d toyed and played with her, and yet, he’d withheld it. He wasn’t even sure if it had been intentional or not. But it was subconsciously cruel if nothing else. Now he couldn’t stop. He leaned to her mouth, he licked her lips the way she’d licked his, and he slipped his tongue between them. She tasted of very faint beer, and for a moment his brain almost went somewhere he didn’t want it to. She’d never been a drunk, not ever, regardless of what her graffiti-covered home had said, but that alone reminded him of something. He buried it as he pushed his tongue deep into her mouth.
He focused on the memories of where his fingers had gone shortly before. The sudden tension that was trying to set in slipped to the background of his mind, and he could focus again. She looked nervous when he finally released her lips, but he wasn’t. Or maybe he was, but he was so ready for this, he didn’t give a shit about his nerves. “Why do you look so frightened?”