Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake
Page 89
She lifted again, trying to increase their contact, and, again, he pulled back. She narrowed her eyes on him. “You know what I want.”
He pulled her pouting bottom lip between his teeth and suckled gently before moving his hips firmly against hers, giving her precisely what she’d been seeking. “Is that it, Empress?”
She gasped and nodded as he repeated the motion, drawing more of her sweet rain down to moisten the soft, swollen lips that cradled him. It was his turn to groan then. “Oh, God, Callie…you’re so sweet.” He thrust again, the tip of him rubbing against the place where all her pleasure seemed to pool.
She sucked in a harsh breath at the sensation. “I want—” She started to speak, then stopped, uncertain.
“Tell me, love.” He laved the spot where her jaw met the soft skin of her neck with his roughened tongue as one hand idly stroked a turgid nipple, and he moved against her in a rhythm that was certain to drive them both mad.
“I—I don’t know what I want.” She ran her hands down his back, lifting against him again, drawing a harsh exhale from him. “I feel so—” He lifted his head to watch her search for the word…“Empty.”
He rewarded her for the words, so raw and wanting, kissing her passionately, tongue thrusting deep into her mouth. Then he moved slightly, fitting his hand between them and, with the tip of one finger, he traced the entrance to the core of her. “Here, love?” he whispered against her ear, the words more caress than sound. “Do you feel empty here?” He pushed the finger deep inside her as she sighed his name. “Do you want me here?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“Say it, Empress. Tell me.” A second finger joined the first, stretching. Filling.
“I want you.”
“Where?” The fingers thrust in unison, showing her the answer.
“Gabriel…” The word was equal parts plea and protest.
He smiled against her neck. “Where, lovely?”
He was killing her. “Inside me.”
His fingers disappeared and she lifted her hips, the movement protesting his retreat. He placed a line of soft, velvet kisses along her collarbone as he settled between her open thighs, replacing his knowing fingers with the hard length of him—poised at the entrance to her. He took her face in his hands and met her eyes, unwilling to let her hide from him in this supremely intimate moment.
Her breath caught as he pushed just barely inside her, stretching, opening. He stilled, the hardest thing he’d ever done, as the swollen head of him was cradled in her velvet, wet heat. He watched the flicker of sensation in her brown eyes. “Does it hurt?”
She closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head. “No,” she whispered, “Yes. It feels…I want…” she met his gaze, “I want more. I want all of it. I want you. Please.”
The raw emotion laid bare in her words and in her look was enough to send him over the edge, but he refused to allow himself to ruin this, her first taste of passion. He paused in his movements, sipping at the tips of her br**sts and returning his hand to the hard, straining nub at the core of her. He rubbed a slow circle there, watching as pleasure flared in her eyes at the caress. “Callie…” he whispered, “I am going to hurt you. I cannot prevent it.”
“I know.” The words were breathless. “I don’t care.”
He kissed her then, his tongue slow and seeking, stroking the soft skin as though they had all the time in the world. “I care,” he whispered, his thumb stroking faster against her, causing her hips to rock against him in a rhythm that set them both aflame. “But I shall make it up to you.”
He rocked against her, gritting his teeth against the sublime pleasure he felt as he moved carefully, inch by slow inch, traveling slightly deeper on each smooth thrust, then pulling out completely, giving her time to adjust to him.
And then, when she was writhing in pleasure, he pulled back and thrust to the hilt, the hard length of him stretching the untried flesh at the heart of her. She sucked in a deep breath at the pain, and he stilled above her, the muscles of his arms and shoulders and neck coiled with rigid tension. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, raining kisses along her cheek to her ear.
She turned to meet his gaze with a small smile. “No…it’s not…it isn’t bad.” She cocked her head, as though considering the sensations within her. “Is that it?”
He gave a little, strained laugh at the innocent question. “That’s not even close to being it.”
“Oh.” She moved against him, and it was his turn to gasp. “Oh…that’s quite…” She moved again and he stilled her hips with a strong hand, unwilling to trust himself if she continued her rolling motions.
“Indeed,” he said, suckling the tip of one breast idly. “It is. Quite.”
He retreated almost entirely from her passage and thrust again, a smooth, long movement that chased away the residual pain and replaced it with a spark of pleasure. “Oh…yes.”
“Yes?” he teased, repeating the movement.
This time she met his thrust with her own and sighed. “Yes,” she agreed.
“My sentiments, exactly,” he said, and began to move rhythmically in deep, smooth strokes designed to drive them both wild. After several long moments of his rich caresses, Callie began to move beneath him, canting her hips to increase the pressure of his thrusts.
Ralston shifted to accommodate her body’s request, increasing his speed and force. Clenching his teeth against the pleasure of her body, so tight and hot around him. Callie began to cry out, little mewling cries of pleasure that made him wild, so real and honest was her passion. Never in his life had he wanted to find his release so badly; never had he so desperately wanted to hang on, to give his partner the pleasure she deserved.
He pulled her pouting bottom lip between his teeth and suckled gently before moving his hips firmly against hers, giving her precisely what she’d been seeking. “Is that it, Empress?”
She gasped and nodded as he repeated the motion, drawing more of her sweet rain down to moisten the soft, swollen lips that cradled him. It was his turn to groan then. “Oh, God, Callie…you’re so sweet.” He thrust again, the tip of him rubbing against the place where all her pleasure seemed to pool.
She sucked in a harsh breath at the sensation. “I want—” She started to speak, then stopped, uncertain.
“Tell me, love.” He laved the spot where her jaw met the soft skin of her neck with his roughened tongue as one hand idly stroked a turgid nipple, and he moved against her in a rhythm that was certain to drive them both mad.
“I—I don’t know what I want.” She ran her hands down his back, lifting against him again, drawing a harsh exhale from him. “I feel so—” He lifted his head to watch her search for the word…“Empty.”
He rewarded her for the words, so raw and wanting, kissing her passionately, tongue thrusting deep into her mouth. Then he moved slightly, fitting his hand between them and, with the tip of one finger, he traced the entrance to the core of her. “Here, love?” he whispered against her ear, the words more caress than sound. “Do you feel empty here?” He pushed the finger deep inside her as she sighed his name. “Do you want me here?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“Say it, Empress. Tell me.” A second finger joined the first, stretching. Filling.
“I want you.”
“Where?” The fingers thrust in unison, showing her the answer.
“Gabriel…” The word was equal parts plea and protest.
He smiled against her neck. “Where, lovely?”
He was killing her. “Inside me.”
His fingers disappeared and she lifted her hips, the movement protesting his retreat. He placed a line of soft, velvet kisses along her collarbone as he settled between her open thighs, replacing his knowing fingers with the hard length of him—poised at the entrance to her. He took her face in his hands and met her eyes, unwilling to let her hide from him in this supremely intimate moment.
Her breath caught as he pushed just barely inside her, stretching, opening. He stilled, the hardest thing he’d ever done, as the swollen head of him was cradled in her velvet, wet heat. He watched the flicker of sensation in her brown eyes. “Does it hurt?”
She closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head. “No,” she whispered, “Yes. It feels…I want…” she met his gaze, “I want more. I want all of it. I want you. Please.”
The raw emotion laid bare in her words and in her look was enough to send him over the edge, but he refused to allow himself to ruin this, her first taste of passion. He paused in his movements, sipping at the tips of her br**sts and returning his hand to the hard, straining nub at the core of her. He rubbed a slow circle there, watching as pleasure flared in her eyes at the caress. “Callie…” he whispered, “I am going to hurt you. I cannot prevent it.”
“I know.” The words were breathless. “I don’t care.”
He kissed her then, his tongue slow and seeking, stroking the soft skin as though they had all the time in the world. “I care,” he whispered, his thumb stroking faster against her, causing her hips to rock against him in a rhythm that set them both aflame. “But I shall make it up to you.”
He rocked against her, gritting his teeth against the sublime pleasure he felt as he moved carefully, inch by slow inch, traveling slightly deeper on each smooth thrust, then pulling out completely, giving her time to adjust to him.
And then, when she was writhing in pleasure, he pulled back and thrust to the hilt, the hard length of him stretching the untried flesh at the heart of her. She sucked in a deep breath at the pain, and he stilled above her, the muscles of his arms and shoulders and neck coiled with rigid tension. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, raining kisses along her cheek to her ear.
She turned to meet his gaze with a small smile. “No…it’s not…it isn’t bad.” She cocked her head, as though considering the sensations within her. “Is that it?”
He gave a little, strained laugh at the innocent question. “That’s not even close to being it.”
“Oh.” She moved against him, and it was his turn to gasp. “Oh…that’s quite…” She moved again and he stilled her hips with a strong hand, unwilling to trust himself if she continued her rolling motions.
“Indeed,” he said, suckling the tip of one breast idly. “It is. Quite.”
He retreated almost entirely from her passage and thrust again, a smooth, long movement that chased away the residual pain and replaced it with a spark of pleasure. “Oh…yes.”
“Yes?” he teased, repeating the movement.
This time she met his thrust with her own and sighed. “Yes,” she agreed.
“My sentiments, exactly,” he said, and began to move rhythmically in deep, smooth strokes designed to drive them both wild. After several long moments of his rich caresses, Callie began to move beneath him, canting her hips to increase the pressure of his thrusts.
Ralston shifted to accommodate her body’s request, increasing his speed and force. Clenching his teeth against the pleasure of her body, so tight and hot around him. Callie began to cry out, little mewling cries of pleasure that made him wild, so real and honest was her passion. Never in his life had he wanted to find his release so badly; never had he so desperately wanted to hang on, to give his partner the pleasure she deserved.
