53
Her reward was a lusty masculine growl that excited her dreadfully.
Tightening his arms around her he lifted her up against him and fed her legs around his waist, then just stood there with her clamped against him, their parted mouths fused together and the intimacy taking place with their tongues a shattering mimic of something else he was doing to her.
His hands were splayed across her silk-covered buttocks, the fiercely bold evidence of how he was feeling shocked and excited her in equal amounts. When she moved voluptuously against him she felt his shudder that blew the last of his common sense to bits.
Turning to walk with her over to the bed, as they landed on the mattress in a tangle of clinging limbs, he pulled his head back. “What did you come here for?” he rasped out.
Having to fight to try and understand the question, Vivian opened her eyes and just stared blankly up at him. His mouth was barely an inch away, his warm breath scoring her face. She could feel the pounding pump of his heart against her tightening breasts as he waited for her to give him a response. To tell him she had come here to ask for a couple of headache pills was just not going to leave her warm moist swollen tongue. This was more important. She no longer even had a headache!
When she didn’t say anything, with a softly grated curse he repeated the question, watched her blink slowly, watched her teeth press down into that hot plump lower lip-and lost patience.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.
“Well, I’m in no mood to stop now,” he groaned thickly. “So if you decide that you do want to stop you’re going to have to say it loud and clear.”
But Vivian did not want to stop. And she proved it by running her fingers into his thick black wet silken curls on his head and drew his mouth back to hers. She could not explain it, did not want to try and explain it. All she knew was that, tough as he was, and hard and cold and dangerous as he was, Scott McCall had grabbed something from her that day she made that decision to sneak into his hotel room and deposited this terrible need for more of him in its place.
The kiss drove out any need for more talking; it was hungry and it was deep. And he was so practiced at this she barely felt his weight on top of her or the deft way that he undid her robe belt. The burning pleasure when she felt their naked bodies come together was just about the most overwhelming sensation she had ever felt.
He knew what he was doing, so she just hung on and followed where he led, reveling in each new and exciting experience. He knew just where to touch her, knew just when to break their mouths apart so he could drive her frantically with slow moist kisses down the length of her body. He splayed long fingers around one firm tender breast and teased its shy sensitive bud to flower and tighten, then caught his prize in his mouth.
Wild pleasure took her over, her body arching and her thighs trembling as she gasped out his name. His fingers stroked her ribcage, trailing a path of fire down to her stomach and, finally, shocking her into complete stillness when he made that first sweep between the thighs.
Her breathless stillness brought his head up, eyes drugged and blackened by passion honing on to her face. Her hair flowed across the pillow; her hands still held his head. Her eyes were closed, her soft lips parted, and she was quivering -flesh, muscles, bones all vibrating in unison at the first exploratory caress he made. She did not seem to have any control over what she was feeling. Control, Scott realised, belonged exclusively to him. When her restless fingers trailed his nape, then slithered down his burning chest, he groaned as his body responded violently.
She shaped the bunched muscles in his wide shoulders as her slender hips arched into his. She held nothing back, and he felt so intoxicated by her he sunk them both down-down into the dark heat of passion until it was all she could do to cling to him and let him dictate the rest.
It was like being lost, floating on a rocky sea of building pleasure, Vivian likened hazily. When he reared back from her to remove his towel, her heavy eyes drank in the powerful beauty of his body-coveted it, reached out and touched the whirl of dark hair between his bulging pectoral muscles and made him shudder as she scored him with her fingernails.
He came back to her on a hiss of hunger, lay over her, letting her feel the glorious heat of his naked flesh against her own once again. It was power versus weakness, hard versus soft. He nibbled at the corner of her mouth until she twisted her head and anxiously demanded the full onslaught of his mouth.
Passion, desire, overrode everything. He made love to her slowly and erotically and intensely, his sensual caresses moving her closer and closer to a place she had never been before. Her fingers plucked restlessly at his flesh, her teeth fastened on to his throat. He was hot, a film of salty male sweat tasting on her tongue. She could not keep still and she could feel the tense state of his erection pushing against her thigh.
“Scott” she whimpered over and over for some dizzyingly important reason she could not understand. He understood though.
She felt her first spark of self-consciousness when she suddenly remembered that she was nothing like the long slender women he was used to looking at like this. She had curves. She had a waist and hips and full real breasts, not fakes. As if he was thinking along similar lines an odd twist of a smile curved his lips as his gaze flickered down to that other difference she was suddenly acutely aware of, the triangle of ebony curls nestling at the juncture with her thighs.
Then he bent down and kissed her navel; it was so shockingly unexpected, her muscles jerked violently in response. One of his hands stretched out, grabbing hold of her hand as it went instinctively to push him away from her, long fingers closing around her fingers as he repeated the kiss with a slow and sensual glide of his tongue lower and lower.
“Scott, no,” she groaned out.
He ignored her protest and was so ruthless about his intentions that she surrendered to the silky waves of pleasure he was making her feel, her eyelids folding downwards as he traced each moist, hot, swollen part of her. Within seconds he was carrying her way beyond sense, drugging her with the newness of one sensation laid on top of another. The way he used his tongue to pleasure her, the way he continued to clasp her hand. The way her limbs had gone boneless and restless, the way there was a slow languorous drag of her breathing.
He knew exactly what he was doing to her as he moved up her body to the flat of her stomach, the curve of her ribs, the tight tender peaks of her breasts and finally, with a hungry molding of his lips, to her mouth.
And with a single lithe move he arrived on top of her, his narrow hips pressing between her trembling thighs and at last she experienced the sense-spinning intimacy of his bold erection sliding into her like hot smooth silk. He entered her with one slow, powerful thrust, impaling her, making her his and she felt it pierce her almost to her heart as he began to move inside her, almost passing out with pleasure as he began a slow rhythm, touching his lips to hers as he did so. It seemed so familiar and yet so different- and, oh, how could she have forgotten just how wonderful it felt, to be made love to by a man?
She wrapped her legs possessively around his back and heard him groan in response. He lost himself in her dark, warm heat-giving himself up to sensation, but not completely-watching Vivian, reveling in her own uninhibited pleasure, nearly going out of his mind as she moved in perfect synchrony with him. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. And only when did she gasp, once, his name, and her eyes snap open in a kind of startled recognition-did he allow himself to let go, and it went on and on and on. Unknown words were wrenched from his mouth as the sound of her small, gasping cries rang in his ears.
Vivian stared at the ceiling. Now what?
Fighting sleep, she stirred a little beneath the weight of his inert body and realized that he had fallen asleep. She shook him, gently, her fingertips kneading into the oiled silk of his skin.