The Darkest Touch

Merciless, he teased her, outlining the edges of the material. Her hips rolled, trying to force him where she needed him most. But he always remained a whisper away, and “damp” soon became “soaked.” He rewarded her by shifting the panties out of the way and plunging a finger deep, feeling not only her tightness and warmth, but her readiness for him, too.

She cried out, then cried out again as he pulled out.

Her eyelids flicked open, glowing with wild, reckless need. “Torin.”

He let her watch as he sucked the moist finger into his mouth. Let her witness his enjoyment as he sampled her taste.

The roll of her hips became frenzied. “Don’t be selfish. Give me a taste of your lips.”

“Until I’ve finished touching all of you, I’ll be as selfish as I please...and you’ll like it.” He traced the length of her legs, slowly, leisurely, up, then down, stopping to play at her knees and then her ankles before tapping the end of each of her toes. Her body was a treasure map, and every spot should have been marked with an X. No matter where he ventured, his every nerve ending reacted, catching fire.

“Torin.” Her breathlessness thrilled him to his soul. “Please.”

He tore off his shirt, and she purred her approval. He surged up, pressing his mouth into hers. Her tongue met his with a hard thrust, and it was fuel to an already-raging inferno. He kneaded her beautiful breasts, not even trying to temper his strength. But then, he knew how much she reveled in his fierceness.

Her teeth bit into his tongue, his lip. He pinched her nipple, hard, and she screamed, “Yes, oh, yes, yes!” while writhing against him, her softness providing the perfect cradle for his hardness.

He hissed in a breath, thinking this had to be the sweetest agony he’d ever known. The scent of her arousal permeated his senses, made his mouth water all over again.

“I’ve touched you and kissed you, you’re right about that,” he said. “But next I will taste you the way I’ve dreamed.”

A ragged purr. “Not sure I’ll survive.”

“Try.” He chuckled with dark promise and licked his way down...down her curves. Starting with her breasts, sucking on those gorgeous nipples, stopping at her navel to play. “Keep your hands over your head,” he commanded. “I mean it. Don’t let go.”

“Wouldn’t dare.” A tremor rocked her. Such a heady sight. “What my warrior wants, he gets.”

He spread her legs, until her knees rested against the mattress—completely defenseless to my every whim. Or rather, he was completely defenseless to hers. Her panties were utterly drenched.

With a satisfied grunt, he ripped the material off her and bared her—bared perfection. Made for me. He took a good, long lick, his eyes closing as he savored the sweetness and heat.

A ragged plea for more escaped her. He obliged, could deny her nothing, even as his own desire raged. Another long lick before he tunneled his way inside, mimicking with his fingers what he would soon do with his shaft. When she was undulating wildly, muttering incoherently, her honey a drug he couldn’t resist, he sucked on the tender bud of her arousal.

Her scream of satisfaction echoed off the walls.

Pain hadn’t managed to draw that sound out of her, but pleasure had. He was smiling as he sucked harder. Her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on.

“Demanding little princess.” He loved it. But he still forced himself to stop.

She moaned, tried to push his head back down. “Torin! You’re not done!”

“Hands.” One word. One command. But she understood, and she obeyed. And the moment she was once again gripping the headboard, he set back to work, licking and sucking, even biting.

“It’s good. So good.”

Her thighs squeezed his temples, the pressure a testament to her mounting desire. But he knew what she was doing. Trying yet again to gain control. But he knew his girl and knew she didn’t want control, not really, not here, so he forced her legs to part again, keeping her wide open. She trembled with vibrant desire and begged him to do more, to take her further, deeper, and he did...deeper into a realm where sensation prevailed.

He fed her dripping core a finger, and she climaxed, clamping down around it, screaming his name again and again. He inserted another finger, pushing in deep, drawing out the orgasm, making it last. Licking her, sucking her, still moving in and out of her...until she sagged against the mattress, panting.

He withdrew from her and sat up, watching her for several seconds, drinking in the sight of her satisfaction. His woman, satisfied. It was a heady thought and only increased his need for completion.

It was time.

“Unfasten my pants.”

Eager, she sat up. Her hair was a tangled mess, her skin flushed a dusky rose. His chest constricted. Mine, all mine.

With trembling fingers Keeley freed his throbbing erection. And as she did so, she watched him lick her honey from his fingers once again.

“I could live on you, princess.”

“Could you?” She took his hand, pulled his fingers from his mouth—and sucked them into her own. “I could live on us.”

The pressure, hot and wet, made him shudder with delicious need. Need her. Have to have her.

She protested when he pulled away from her. But still he did it, standing beside the bed, shucking his boots and kicking off his pants. He took a condom from the pocket and sheathed himself. Though he wanted to take her bare, to feel her that way, a child would never be an option. His motions were harried—if he wasn’t inside her within the next few seconds, he might as well curl up and die.