Samson's Lovely Mortal
Page 75
“I can give you a hundred reasons to stay.” He took her upper lip between his and sucked gently. “That’s one.” His tongue swept over her lips. “Here’s another. We’ll talk about it tonight. But right now …”
He flipped her masterfully and brought her underneath him, gazing into her eyes for a long moment.
Samson took what was his, and Delilah surrendered to his mouth, his tongue, his hands, and his body. His lovemaking was more tender than he thought he’d ever be capable of. There was no rush to join his body with hers. They would have plenty of time to explore each other.
This time all he wanted was to feel her, experience her body’s heat, feel her heart beat against his lips with an excited rhythm. Under his hands and his mouth, he felt her come alive and open up.
Delilah arched toward him every time his hands stroked from her neck down to her navel. Like Magellan, he circled her breasts and sailed South, only to detour before reaching the South Pole. He navigated the small channel between her breasts like the Bosphorus, not being able to decide whether to lavish his attention first on Europe or on Asia. Both looked equally enticing.
What perfect mountains with rock-hard peaks. His tongue lapped at her engorged tips teasing a strangled moan from her throat.
“Sweetness, I haven’t even started yet.”
Her breath caught. “Oh, mercy.”
Mercy wasn’t what he had in mind. No, he was headed for the lush canopy further South which sheltered a treasure beneath—one he was determined to reacquaint himself with.
His searching fingers found the hooded nub and brushed over it. Delilah’s pelvis bucked toward him instantly, pushing his hand onto her moist petals. Unable to resist, he slipped his finger into her welcoming sheath.
“I want you now.”
Samson had never heard her voice with such a husky undertone.
“You have me.” He underscored his statement by plunging his finger deep into her. She had no idea how she owned him – body and soul. He would tell her, soon.
The urging of her body became more intense, her hips moving in synch with his hand, riding him, like he knew she wanted to do with his cock. And she could ride him whenever she wanted to: he would never be able to deny her.
With slow movements, Samson eased himself above her, centering his aching cock. And inch by inch he descended until he was deeply lodged inside her. Every thrust made their joining deeper, connected their bodies more until they moved as one.
They weren’t only connected by his erection impaling her, but also by their legs entangled, their arms intertwined, their lips merged. Her body fitted perfectly to his, as if someone in heaven had molded her for him.
Samson had never felt closer to any woman than to Delilah at that moment. He could feel as her excitement built, as her pelvis started grinding against him more urgently. He responded in kind, moving in the rhythm she demanded. He realized how it filled him with joy, knowing he could pleasure her.
Samson held himself right at the edge, denying his release until he could be sure she was close. Her urgency took over, demanding he’d thrust harder and deeper, and he complied all too willingly despite the strength it cost him to hold back his own climax.
“Don’t stop.” Her wish was his command.
“Not a chance.”
Her heels around his backside dug in deeper, and her fingernails on his back would have drawn blood if he’d had the fragile skin of a human. Then her orgasm hit him—as if her body was about to shatter into a million pieces. And like a row of dominos it reached him, taking him with her, igniting his own release, making him spread his seed in her.
But it wasn’t over. He kept moving inside her, rocking back and forth, kissing her lips, holding her until he felt the last of her spasms subside.
As he locked eyes with her, he couldn’t speak. And didn’t want to break the magical moment of complete and utter bliss. He rolled to the side, taking her with him, unable to release her from his embrace, unwilling to leave her body.
When he finally spoke, his voice echoed in his ears: hoarse, colored by passion and desire, and something else he hadn’t felt in a long time—affection.
“I can give you a million reasons not to leave.”
And he would draw on every single one to convince her to stay.
THIRTEEN
It happened frequently that Amaury spent time in a bed which wasn’t his, but generally for other reasons than on this occasion. By the time he and Samson had looked up from their work helping Delilah, it was too close to sunrise to risk him going home. As much as he hated to intrude on the two lovers, he had no choice but to stay in the guest room.
He flipped her masterfully and brought her underneath him, gazing into her eyes for a long moment.
Samson took what was his, and Delilah surrendered to his mouth, his tongue, his hands, and his body. His lovemaking was more tender than he thought he’d ever be capable of. There was no rush to join his body with hers. They would have plenty of time to explore each other.
This time all he wanted was to feel her, experience her body’s heat, feel her heart beat against his lips with an excited rhythm. Under his hands and his mouth, he felt her come alive and open up.
Delilah arched toward him every time his hands stroked from her neck down to her navel. Like Magellan, he circled her breasts and sailed South, only to detour before reaching the South Pole. He navigated the small channel between her breasts like the Bosphorus, not being able to decide whether to lavish his attention first on Europe or on Asia. Both looked equally enticing.
What perfect mountains with rock-hard peaks. His tongue lapped at her engorged tips teasing a strangled moan from her throat.
“Sweetness, I haven’t even started yet.”
Her breath caught. “Oh, mercy.”
Mercy wasn’t what he had in mind. No, he was headed for the lush canopy further South which sheltered a treasure beneath—one he was determined to reacquaint himself with.
His searching fingers found the hooded nub and brushed over it. Delilah’s pelvis bucked toward him instantly, pushing his hand onto her moist petals. Unable to resist, he slipped his finger into her welcoming sheath.
“I want you now.”
Samson had never heard her voice with such a husky undertone.
“You have me.” He underscored his statement by plunging his finger deep into her. She had no idea how she owned him – body and soul. He would tell her, soon.
The urging of her body became more intense, her hips moving in synch with his hand, riding him, like he knew she wanted to do with his cock. And she could ride him whenever she wanted to: he would never be able to deny her.
With slow movements, Samson eased himself above her, centering his aching cock. And inch by inch he descended until he was deeply lodged inside her. Every thrust made their joining deeper, connected their bodies more until they moved as one.
They weren’t only connected by his erection impaling her, but also by their legs entangled, their arms intertwined, their lips merged. Her body fitted perfectly to his, as if someone in heaven had molded her for him.
Samson had never felt closer to any woman than to Delilah at that moment. He could feel as her excitement built, as her pelvis started grinding against him more urgently. He responded in kind, moving in the rhythm she demanded. He realized how it filled him with joy, knowing he could pleasure her.
Samson held himself right at the edge, denying his release until he could be sure she was close. Her urgency took over, demanding he’d thrust harder and deeper, and he complied all too willingly despite the strength it cost him to hold back his own climax.
“Don’t stop.” Her wish was his command.
“Not a chance.”
Her heels around his backside dug in deeper, and her fingernails on his back would have drawn blood if he’d had the fragile skin of a human. Then her orgasm hit him—as if her body was about to shatter into a million pieces. And like a row of dominos it reached him, taking him with her, igniting his own release, making him spread his seed in her.
But it wasn’t over. He kept moving inside her, rocking back and forth, kissing her lips, holding her until he felt the last of her spasms subside.
As he locked eyes with her, he couldn’t speak. And didn’t want to break the magical moment of complete and utter bliss. He rolled to the side, taking her with him, unable to release her from his embrace, unwilling to leave her body.
When he finally spoke, his voice echoed in his ears: hoarse, colored by passion and desire, and something else he hadn’t felt in a long time—affection.
“I can give you a million reasons not to leave.”
And he would draw on every single one to convince her to stay.
THIRTEEN
It happened frequently that Amaury spent time in a bed which wasn’t his, but generally for other reasons than on this occasion. By the time he and Samson had looked up from their work helping Delilah, it was too close to sunrise to risk him going home. As much as he hated to intrude on the two lovers, he had no choice but to stay in the guest room.
