Nightwalker
Page 71
She looked pleased by his words, and so she should be. She should be made to feel special every minute of every night.
He leaned down and kissed her pale pink lips. He savored the feel of her, the way she sighed with pleasure, the sweet strawberry smell of her. She had gotten her own toiletries from town the night before and included in that was a strawberry scented body wash. It took the mystery out of how she managed to smell so sweet, but he didn’t care. It was still uniquely Viève. And she added a warmth and depth to it that mere fabricated scent could never accomplish.
He deepened the kiss, drawing her body into his. He was much taller so she had to perch up on the tips of her toes to meet him better. The feel of her lithe body against his took his breath away. Made him hard. He wanted her more and more with every passing hour it seemed. She had the power to ease his mind of all the weight it bore. A tremendous ability to be sure. Perhaps he shouldn’t allow it; perhaps he didn’t deserve to be unburdened, but he selfishly could not see himself bear any punishment while she was around.
He cupped her head in one hand, noticing how small it was in his large palm. He was tall and strong and athletic but he was not an overly large man, and yet he was still much larger than she was. She had the ability to make him feel as if he were a giant. Not just in size but in ability. With her he felt as though he might be able to conquer the world tomorrow.
Her hair filtered between his fingers, the slippery, silvery strands soft and silky. Her hands had been clinging to his arms but now climbed up to his shoulders, then one wrapped around his neck, her fingers toying with the crisp ends of his hair at the base of his hairline. All the while their kiss grew deeper and deeper.
His free hand moved suddenly to her breast, cupping her through the soft cotton material of her nightgown. Her unfettered breast filled his hand perfectly and his thumb brushed over the bud of her nipple that was pebbled beneath the cotton. He didn’t know which was sweeter, her mouth or the feel of her.
He began to feel a growing sense of urgency. She felt it too. He could tell by the way she clutched at him with increasing strength and the way she was starting to devour him with every clash of their tongues. He had wanted to make love to her sweetly…slowly…radiating every ounce of his feelings for her into her, saying with his body all the things he didn’t have the right to say with words.
But as was often the case with her, it would not be that way. It was becoming torrid and hot, threatening to consume them. His knees bent, his hands went to her thighs, dragging up the skirt of her nightgown before grasping hold of the bare thighs beneath and hauling her up off her feet. She flew up, her legs wrapping around his waist, her ankles latching together in the small of his back. They seemed to favor this position. He liked it because all he needed was to put a wall to her back as a counterpoint and he could thrust up hard into her, all the while looking deep into her eyes, all the while watching emotion play over her features. And she was so very expressive. He could see, and therefore feel, every single thing that she felt. Every single moan of pleasure was punctuated by the intensity in her eyes and then he was lost.
Just as he was losing himself now. He broke from her mouth, panting hard for breath while he searched the room briefly for what he wanted. There. There it was.
A wall.
He walked them over to it in three steps, her back hitting it an instant later, his mouth crushing down on hers again. He broke away only long enough to divest her of her nightgown, leaving her naked in his arms and against his bare chest. He had changed into a pair of silky pajama pants earlier, and now they rode low on his hips, leaving his chest bare to feel the warmth and sultry softness of her skin against his. He could feel the tough little points of her nipples brushing over him and the sensation of all of it, on top of her blistering kisses, made him so hard he could hardly see straight.
“Gods how I want to be inside you,” he groaned against her lips.
“Come inside me,” she invited in a soft little panting of breaths. “I’m wet and waiting for you.”
He groaned again at the erotic invitation and all the images it conjured for him in lightning fast succession. She had grown into quite the confident seductress in their time together. This fact was highlighted by the way she arched her back so her nipples rubbed enticingly over his chest and the way she trailed searching fingers in a line down his belly, below his navel, stopping only when she reached the edge of his pants. Then she found the drawstring, pulled it free with a simple tug, pushed his pants down past his hips until they pooled down around his ankles. He took only a moment to kick them away. He then planted his feet and sought upward with his hips. The head of his cock drew wetly along the seam of her outer lips, parting them around him. He hungrily lifted a breast to his lips then slid his hand down to where their bodies made contact, and through her damp curls, sought out the hard nub of her clitoris. He sucked on her nipple in time with his touch and she cried out with pleasure, her voice ringing in his ears. It wasn’t enough of course. That one little cry would not satisfy him. Not by half. He undulated his hips, drawing himself through her wet flesh. He was there…right there. A single thrust away from burying himself deep inside her. He released her breast and found her mouth, sliding his tongue against hers with wild abandon.
“Do it,” she panted, her body squirming in his arms.
“Are you rushing me?” he teased, prodding at her playfully but refusing her any satisfaction other than what his fingers were giving her.
She groaned with frustration, but then suddenly began to rethink her position. A mischievous light entered her eyes. “Of course,” she said breathily. “You’re right. We have as long as we like.” She pulled his hand away from her body and slid hers in between them instead. She slowly wrapped her fingers around his jutting length and began to stroke him tightly. He hissed in pleasure, thrusting up into her strokes until he was so hard and so needy he was dizzy from the speed of his pulse.
“Enough,” he growled.
“Never,” she growled back. “It will never be enough.”
She was so right. It would never be enough. He could have her a thousand times and he knew it would be just as intense the thousandth time as it had been the first. And he wanted her a thousand times. Ten thousand times. More.
The thought gave him a moment’s pause, causing him to go still. She looked at him with curiosity. “What is it?”
He leaned down and kissed her pale pink lips. He savored the feel of her, the way she sighed with pleasure, the sweet strawberry smell of her. She had gotten her own toiletries from town the night before and included in that was a strawberry scented body wash. It took the mystery out of how she managed to smell so sweet, but he didn’t care. It was still uniquely Viève. And she added a warmth and depth to it that mere fabricated scent could never accomplish.
He deepened the kiss, drawing her body into his. He was much taller so she had to perch up on the tips of her toes to meet him better. The feel of her lithe body against his took his breath away. Made him hard. He wanted her more and more with every passing hour it seemed. She had the power to ease his mind of all the weight it bore. A tremendous ability to be sure. Perhaps he shouldn’t allow it; perhaps he didn’t deserve to be unburdened, but he selfishly could not see himself bear any punishment while she was around.
He cupped her head in one hand, noticing how small it was in his large palm. He was tall and strong and athletic but he was not an overly large man, and yet he was still much larger than she was. She had the ability to make him feel as if he were a giant. Not just in size but in ability. With her he felt as though he might be able to conquer the world tomorrow.
Her hair filtered between his fingers, the slippery, silvery strands soft and silky. Her hands had been clinging to his arms but now climbed up to his shoulders, then one wrapped around his neck, her fingers toying with the crisp ends of his hair at the base of his hairline. All the while their kiss grew deeper and deeper.
His free hand moved suddenly to her breast, cupping her through the soft cotton material of her nightgown. Her unfettered breast filled his hand perfectly and his thumb brushed over the bud of her nipple that was pebbled beneath the cotton. He didn’t know which was sweeter, her mouth or the feel of her.
He began to feel a growing sense of urgency. She felt it too. He could tell by the way she clutched at him with increasing strength and the way she was starting to devour him with every clash of their tongues. He had wanted to make love to her sweetly…slowly…radiating every ounce of his feelings for her into her, saying with his body all the things he didn’t have the right to say with words.
But as was often the case with her, it would not be that way. It was becoming torrid and hot, threatening to consume them. His knees bent, his hands went to her thighs, dragging up the skirt of her nightgown before grasping hold of the bare thighs beneath and hauling her up off her feet. She flew up, her legs wrapping around his waist, her ankles latching together in the small of his back. They seemed to favor this position. He liked it because all he needed was to put a wall to her back as a counterpoint and he could thrust up hard into her, all the while looking deep into her eyes, all the while watching emotion play over her features. And she was so very expressive. He could see, and therefore feel, every single thing that she felt. Every single moan of pleasure was punctuated by the intensity in her eyes and then he was lost.
Just as he was losing himself now. He broke from her mouth, panting hard for breath while he searched the room briefly for what he wanted. There. There it was.
A wall.
He walked them over to it in three steps, her back hitting it an instant later, his mouth crushing down on hers again. He broke away only long enough to divest her of her nightgown, leaving her naked in his arms and against his bare chest. He had changed into a pair of silky pajama pants earlier, and now they rode low on his hips, leaving his chest bare to feel the warmth and sultry softness of her skin against his. He could feel the tough little points of her nipples brushing over him and the sensation of all of it, on top of her blistering kisses, made him so hard he could hardly see straight.
“Gods how I want to be inside you,” he groaned against her lips.
“Come inside me,” she invited in a soft little panting of breaths. “I’m wet and waiting for you.”
He groaned again at the erotic invitation and all the images it conjured for him in lightning fast succession. She had grown into quite the confident seductress in their time together. This fact was highlighted by the way she arched her back so her nipples rubbed enticingly over his chest and the way she trailed searching fingers in a line down his belly, below his navel, stopping only when she reached the edge of his pants. Then she found the drawstring, pulled it free with a simple tug, pushed his pants down past his hips until they pooled down around his ankles. He took only a moment to kick them away. He then planted his feet and sought upward with his hips. The head of his cock drew wetly along the seam of her outer lips, parting them around him. He hungrily lifted a breast to his lips then slid his hand down to where their bodies made contact, and through her damp curls, sought out the hard nub of her clitoris. He sucked on her nipple in time with his touch and she cried out with pleasure, her voice ringing in his ears. It wasn’t enough of course. That one little cry would not satisfy him. Not by half. He undulated his hips, drawing himself through her wet flesh. He was there…right there. A single thrust away from burying himself deep inside her. He released her breast and found her mouth, sliding his tongue against hers with wild abandon.
“Do it,” she panted, her body squirming in his arms.
“Are you rushing me?” he teased, prodding at her playfully but refusing her any satisfaction other than what his fingers were giving her.
She groaned with frustration, but then suddenly began to rethink her position. A mischievous light entered her eyes. “Of course,” she said breathily. “You’re right. We have as long as we like.” She pulled his hand away from her body and slid hers in between them instead. She slowly wrapped her fingers around his jutting length and began to stroke him tightly. He hissed in pleasure, thrusting up into her strokes until he was so hard and so needy he was dizzy from the speed of his pulse.
“Enough,” he growled.
“Never,” she growled back. “It will never be enough.”
She was so right. It would never be enough. He could have her a thousand times and he knew it would be just as intense the thousandth time as it had been the first. And he wanted her a thousand times. Ten thousand times. More.
The thought gave him a moment’s pause, causing him to go still. She looked at him with curiosity. “What is it?”
