by Lora Leigh
Levering himself over her, he stared down at her body. The skirt had ridden up her thighs, nearly showing her panties, kicking a punch of reaction in his gut that stole his breath.
Her thighs shimmered in the moonlight, like satin, like sweet, soft magic. Sabella had always been magic to him. Loving her had been his salvation and his greatest torment. His fiercest hunger.
“You’re perfect.” He laid his hand against her thigh, watched the lightly toned muscle ripple around his touch, felt her response against his palm.
“Not hardly,” she whispered, the throaty sound slicing through his senses with a surge of lust he could barely contain.
He smoothed his hand over her thigh, petting, caressing. The feel of her was like a narcotic, going to his head faster than any drug.
“I want you naked.” He wanted it until it filled his head with nothing but the remembered sight and feel of her. “Keep your hands up there.” He pushed them to the back of the seat, watching as her fingers curled beneath the shallow indent between seat and cushioned back. “That’s a good girl. Just let me touch you.”
“But I like touching you too.” She arched as his fingers went to the little buttons of her blouse. They were almost too tiny, his fingers almost too clumsy. God, he wanted her until he was shaking with it.
Adrenaline spiked through him. He could feel it. He could feel the advanced lust that surged inside him, just at the thought of having her naked.
No other woman would do. No woman but Sabella had the power to do this to him. Even during his stay in hell, when the erection throbbing between his thighs had been in agony, he couldn’t bear the thought of touching another woman.
He always knew. No matter how dazed the lust and the drug made him. No matter how much the women they brought to him looked like Sabella, the second he touched their skin, he knew. Knew it wasn’t his wife, his life, he was touching.
“I dream of you,” he murmured as the edges of her shirt parted, flashing pretty, pale flesh. “Dream.” Had dreamed. “Of touching you. Tasting you.”
“Why dream?” She watched him with shadowed, dark eyes, her lashes feathering her cheeks. “You don’t have to dream, Noah. I’m right here.”
He smoothed the shirt aside, stared down at her breasts, covered in nothing but the thinnest lace, her nipples hard, pointed. He knew the shape of them. The color of them. How they felt beneath his tongue, in his mouth. He knew and he hungered for more.
No woman should have the power over a man that this woman held over him. But he’d accepted the power she had long ago. He had accepted it. Loved it. Relished the heat and the need that flowed between them.
He pulled her hands from where she gripped the bottom of the seat back, lifted her and drew the shirt over her shoulders, his hands stroking her flesh.
He had to clench his teeth as her lips found his neck. She licked his flesh, her lips smoothed over it. He wanted to howl with the need striking hard and deep at his balls.
He pushed the shirt from her arms then flicked open the little hooks on her bra and drew it from her as well.
God, her breasts. What was it about a woman’s breasts that so fascinated a man? Hard tight nipples. Smooth luscious mounds. A woman’s response showed in her breasts. They became swollen, flushed. Nipples darkened, lengthened, and tasted like pure, sweet desire.
His hands flattened on her back, holding her in a half-reclined position as his head lowered to the tight points of her nipples.
He curled his tongue around one and her moan raced over his senses like a caress.
“I love your nipples,” he sighed, pursing his lips and kissing one tight point with a soft suckling motion. “So sweet and tight. So hot and hard.”
She tensed, arched.
Noah slid her to the middle of the seat, straddled her legs, holding her, laying her back, and lowered his head again.
“I’m going to suck your nipples, Sabella. Suck them so sweet and deep that you come from that alone.”
He had done that for her, once. Long ago. In those months before they married. He’d had her so hot, so wet, teased her perfect body with merciless hunger until the suction at one sweet nipple caused her to come.
He wanted that again. He wanted her wild and waiting for his lips against her pussy. Her juices thick and slick, clinging to his lips. He wanted her so wet, so hot, the imprint of their lust so deep inside this vehicle that she never, never allowed another man inside it with her.
She writhed beneath him as his head lowered again. He licked around her nipple. Kissed beneath the swollen mound. His teeth raked close to her nipple, he nipped at the creamy flesh and left a soft, reddened mark as he drew it into his mouth.
Branded her. The little love bite would darken, mark her as his.
“So sweet and lush.” He drew his shirt over his head as he watched her and tossed it aside.
“I want to touch you.” Her voice was thick with desire now, dazed, hungry. “Let me touch you, Noah.”
“Not yet.” He ran his palms over her arms, pressed her hands deeper between the seat bottom and back. “Hold on right there. Don’t move your hands, or we’ll stop.”
The hell they would. If she touched him he was going to go up in flames and slam inside her so hard and fast that neither of them would know what hit them.
“Stay right there, Sabella. Stay there, and let me love you.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
What was he doing to her? There were aspects of him that bore no resemblance to the husband she remembered, that drew parts of herself free that she knew Nathan had never possessed. Just as he gave her the parts of himself that she hadn’t known during their marriage
She arched as his hands cupped her breasts, just rough enough to spike an air of danger and overwhelming hunger. Pressing the mounds together as he licked around her nipples, stroked his fingers over them, then his tongue.
Nathan had always been a thorough lover, but now, it was as though the hunger that raged inside him raged for everything. Every part of her. Even her soul.
And her breasts were so sensitive. Her nipples were hard points of pure sensation. His short, closely cropped beard rasped against her flesh. His lips smoothed and nipped, and his tongue. She arched, twisted, and tried to get closer to that diabolical tongue as each lick around the tight points sent rapturous spikes of sensation tearing into her pussy.
She was so wet. So sensitive. She needed so bad that the moans falling from her lips were more pleas, begging need, than anything else.
“You like this.” Confidence, pleasure, filled his gravelly voice.
“I hate it,” she panted, lying, knowing better.
Noah chuckled, and for a moment she was thrown back in time. That chuckle, rough, velvety, was a sound from the past and nearly threw her into orgasm as he chose that moment to swipe his lips over a hard nipple.
“I bet you’re so wet,” he crooned roughly. “If I stroked my tongue through your pussy, your juices would cling to it. Caress my lips and make me high with the taste of your need.”
That tone, it was almost lyrical, despite the rough pitch of his voice. Sabella shivered at the sound, and felt more of her juices easing past her intimate lips, coating her bare flesh.
“Once I get down there, your curls are going to be soaked, aren’t they, Sabella?”
She smiled up at him. “I’d have to have curls there for that, Noah.”
He froze. His eyes glowed. His expression contorted with so much lust, so much hunger, that the sight of it sent a hard convulsion of sensation straight to her womb.
Oh yes, her Nathan loved her bare. He had loved sucking at the curl-free lips, licking them, kissing them.
His breathing roughened, rasping from his throat as his jaw tightened.
“Bare?” The muscles in his chest and biceps tightened, bulged.
“All bare, Noah.” She smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “All soft and silky. Nothing but flesh.”
He jerked as though a lash had been la
id to him.
One hand moved to his jeans, pulled his belt loose, tore open his jeans. His head lowered to her breasts again and she nearly screamed as his lips covered her nipple.
He was releasing himself. Stroking himself. Sabella knew he was and she wanted to touch. She wanted to taste. But his lips were consuming her, the pleasure driving hard, brutal lashes of pleasure into her womb, her pussy, until she felt an eruption.
Not a hard orgasm. A rush of fiery ecstasy detonated her womb and washed through her vagina. She cried out, shuddering and jerking against the pleasure as his tongue flickered over her nipple and a groan tore from his chest.
He jerked up, then shifted, one hand burying in her hair, lifting her head and giving her exactly what she wanted.
The thick knob of his cock pierced her lips and she sucked it in greedily. One hand pulled at the front snap of her skirt. Jerked at the zipper and pushed the material to her thighs.
Sabella lifted, using one hand to help him divest her of the skirt, leaving only her panties covering her hips. Silk thongs that did nothing to hold back the moisture glazing her now.
She swallowed the head of his erection into her mouth, licked the underside, sucked and moaned around the taste of the precum that had spilled from the tiny slit at the tip.
“Yes,” he hissed with brutal pleasure. “God, your mouth is good. So hot and wet. Suck me deeper, Sabella. Suck it deeper, baby. Just a little bit deeper.”
She took him deeper, flattening her tongue as he slid in and back, slow, deliberate strokes that filled her mouth and her senses with his taste.
Noah stared down at her, watching her as she watched him, her mouth moving over the torturously hard knob of his cock. Her mouth was so hot. So brutally good. God, sucking him like she loved it. Loved the taste of him, the feel of him in her mouth.
And he loved his dick in her mouth. Loved watching her, that little edge of innocence in her expression making him harder, hungrier, if possible. As though she were almost a virgin. Almost as innocent as the first time he took her.
Noah gripped the base of his cock, his thighs tightening, as she slid one hand up his thigh, cupped his balls.
He snarled at the ecstasy of her touch. The firm, liquid hot suction of her mouth.
He ran his hand down her flexing abdomen, pushed his fingers beneath her panties, and paused. Not yet. If he let his fingers feel the slick moisture now, he’d lose it. He’d pulse between her lips, fill her hot mouth with his come and all hope of control would be shot to hell.
“Look how bad you are.” He let a tight, approving grin curl his lips as she teased him with her lips and tongue.
She pulled back, curled her tongue over the lip, flickered against it as a groan tore from his chest.
He pulled his fingers back from beneath her panties, stared down at her with wicked promise, then laid a light, sensual little tap against her pussy, over the wet silk of her panties.
She froze. Her gray eyes nearly went black then her mouth covered the head of his cock and she was sucking with hungry, aroused demand.
“Like that, baby?” he whispered. “Should I spank that pretty pussy for you?”
She jerked, the sweet suction of her mouth deepened, drawing his balls impossibly tighter as he laid another heavy caress to the silk-covered mound and nearly blew every ounce of come tightening through his cock.
Sabella tried to scream as she sucked him deep. The heavy caresses, not really smacks but a deep, fiery impact against her sensitive flesh, were flashing through her nerve endings, ripping through the rest of her body.
It was nothing gentle. She didn’t want gentle. For each fiery caress she sucked him deeper, firmer, lashed her tongue over the sensitive crest and told him with more than words the pleasure tearing through her.
“You love it.” He cupped her pussy, rotated the pad of his palm over her clit. “You like it just a little rough, don’t you, baby? Just a little bit. Enough to make it burn.”
She loved the burn.
She couldn’t believe he was doing this, here in his truck. He’d never done anything this extreme in the whole time she had known him before his disappearance. He had never loved her like this, taken her with such lust and hunger.
Holy hell. Noah felt the need exploding his brain. Adrenaline punched through his system. Lust sliced through his senses. He wasn’t going to be able to hold back. If he didn’t get her sweet mouth off his cock he was going to explode.
He pulled back. Smoothed his palm over her wet panties and heard her sharp intake of breath. He laid another heated caress. It wasn’t a slap, it was a heavy pat, enough to make her burn, to make her clit pulse and throb, but not enough to make her come. Not yet. He wanted her to come on his lips, against his tongue. He wanted to feel her pussy clenching, creaming, tightening for him.
He pulled back, lifted her, moved her until her head was in the corner across from the steering wheel. He spread her legs wide, stared down at the pale peach wet silk that covered her mound.
He drew her panties over her thighs, pressed her legs together, her knees back, lifting her legs as he drew the silk off her legs and then stared down at the pretty pink folds and the curve of her ass.
Smoothing his hand over the pretty rise of her butt he lifted it, then tapped it. Just a little smack.
The light of the moon gleamed over the pale flesh as his fingers slid to the narrow cleft, caressed, felt her juices coating the little entrance there, below her pussy.
“Do you need, baby?”
“Noah.” She moaned his name, her voice dazed, her fingers clawing at the leather seats behind her, marking them forever.
The abuse to the leather filled him with a sharp surge of satisfaction. Marked. Branded by her passion. Just as he was.
He lowered her legs, spread them again, and stared at the pretty, shadowed folds of her pussy. His jaw clenched. He wanted to see more.
He flipped on the dim floor lights, his jaw clenching, teeth grinding at the sight of the silky moisture glazing her pussy.
“I’m goin’ down on you,” he bit out, moved back until one knee braced on the floor and his head lowered to the sweet, pretty flesh of her pussy.
His Sabella.
Wet.
Hot.
“God. Noah. Yes.” Her hips arched to him.
“What do you want, Sabella?” He breathed over the wet flesh. “Tell me, baby. Tell me how you want it. Slow and sweet?” He licked through the swollen folds, gathered her juices, and groaned at the fresh, sweet taste of her.
“Or hard? Fast?” He lifted her, shoved his tongue inside her as a thin, ragged scream left her lips.
He felt the delicate, feminine muscles clamping on his tongue, milking it. His cock jerked in response. The engorged crown throbbed, pulsed. Hell. If he didn’t touch her, taste her, take her, he was going to die. If he didn’t have her one more time he was going to expire.
He wanted all of her. Every touch, every taste.
Her hands moved to her side. Her nails dug into the folded back of the seat. Long scores, ripping the surface of the leather. Another brand. Another mark. She would never forget. Never lose the memory of who she belonged to.
To him.
He flicked his tongue inside her again. Licked at the sweet softness meeting his tongue, flickered over hidden nerve endings and felt her rising, lifting.
She was shuddering in his grip as he pulled back. Kissed the swollen folds. Sucked at them, licked at them, his lips moving ever closer to the swollen bud of her clit.
He let his fingers part the folds. As his lips pursed over her clit, he slid one finger into the heat of her sex, the other, he worked slowly, gently, until the tip penetrated the little entrance of her ass.
“Noah.” Her hands tangled in his hair. Her hips lifted, pressing her clit deeper between his lips. “Oh God. Noah. Please. Please suck me. Suck my clit. Make me come. Oh God. Make me come.”
He sucked her inside, flicked his tongue around, around, sucked he
r sweet and easy, then harder, filled his senses with the taste of her and felt the explosion rip through her.
Noah jerked back. He gripped the hardened shaft of his cock with one hand as he came over her, felt her arms curving around his shoulders as he tucked the crown against the slick, hot folds of her beautiful sweet little cunt.
“I want to take you slow.” He could barely push the words from his lips for the sheer pleasure enveloping the blunt head of his cock. “Slow and deep.”
She lifted against him, her nipples stroking over his chest, burying in the mat of hair covering it. He could feel them, like little hot pebbles burrowing against him.
“You’re so tight, Sabella.”
She stared back at him, her expression tight with pleasure, her eyes heavy lidded, her face flushed with arousal.
God, he loved looking at her while he took her. Loved watching her face, the expressions that flickered across it, the almost painful need that filled it.
He worked the thick crown inside her, watched her breath catch, and felt his muscles tighten as he fought to hold back. He had to hold back. Just a little bit. Just a few more minutes of sheer overwhelming pleasure.
Sabella’s gaze dimmed as she felt Noah begin to push inside her. The thick crest pierced her, worked inside her, spreading and stretching her until she could feel the burn beginning to blaze inside her.
His eyes held hers, the blue candleglow, flickering with emotion, brighter, darker than they had ever been for the emotions raging through them. His eyes were shadowed, but the lust filling them wasn’t.
He burrowed inside her, his long hair falling over his face, touching hers, as a grimace contorted his face.
“I can feel you.” His voice was a hard, delicious rasp. “Tightening on me.”
She could feel the muscles inside, flexing, milking him as her juices built and flowed against the heavy width invading her.