by Lora Leigh
"I knew that was a thong."
She stood still as he began moving around her, gripping his cock with the fingers of one hand, massaging the engorged crest slowly.
"How did you know?" She swallowed tightly as she felt his free hand cup the rounded curve of one cheek.
"Those jeans were nice and snug." He rubbed at the underside of her ass before his fingers moved beneath the thin band between the cheeks. "There were no panty lines."
"Oh." She was breathing roughly, her flesh so sensitized now that she swore she could feel the brush of air from the cooling unit against her, and the feel of Cam's breath on the back of her neck. It was so sensual, so intense, she could feel her body heating, preparing, growing wet and wild for him.
"How did this happen?"
She froze as his fingers caressed a scar of her own. She knew what it looked like, what it was. A perfect curve over her hip, thin and deep.
"Does it matter?" She trembled beneath his fingers, then shook as he knelt behind her. "What are you doing?"
"You kissed my scars, didn't you?"
"Oh, Lord. Cam." His lips feathered over the mark, then his tongue.
"Someone took a whip to you, Jaci." His hands framed her hips, his fingers tightening on them. "You really want to tell me who did this."
She shook her head. "There's nothing to tell."
"Are you telling me this isn't a whip mark?" His teeth raked over it.
She shook her head as she tried to draw air into her lungs. "I'm telling you it doesn't matter."
She nearly collapsed to the floor as she felt his teeth rake across it. The pleasure was simply destructive.
It shouldn't have been. It should have killed desire, the thought of that mark, the thought of how she had received it. But it wasn't the scar or the memories that weakened her. It was his touch, the shadows in his voice, the growling, primal pitch of his tone.
"I need more than a few gentle touches tonight." He laid his cheek against her hip, still kneeling, his hands holding her as she fought the tremors racing through her.
"What do you need?"
"I need to make you scream, Jaci."
"I always scream with you." Her voice was trembling now. She could feel an intensity in him, that driving heat and blazing need that he kept so carefully banked.
"But there are other ways to scream, sweetheart." He rose, his hand caressing her rear once again.
A second later a light, burning slap streaked across her rear.
"Cam!" She jerked forward, a soft cry leaving her lips as that heat moved from her rear to her clit.
How strange was that? It shouldn't have been erotic. It shouldn't have been tinged with heat and with pleasure.
"That's a nice start." His voice was harder, bolder. More dominant.
"What are you doing?"
"Letting you get to know me." His lips pressed against her shoulder.
"Really?" She breathed out roughly. "Why do I have a feeling this might not be something either of us are ready for Cam?"
His chuckle was a rough, dark sound against her neck a second before his teeth scraped there.
"There's pleasure. Pleasure that's soft, gentle, erotic." He petted her ass again. A less-than-gentle caress that had her breath catching, a whisper of a moan leaving her throat.
"Then," he continued, "there's pleasure that burns. That rides a line so close to pain that the senses open, nerve endings blaze with sensation, and when you come"—the slap at her ass was harder, hotter, and sent pulses of heated pleasure burning into her pussy—"When you come, Jaci, you're begging for the orgasm. Screaming for it. So desperate for that little death that you're pleading for more and more, until you come so hard, so deep, you swear you've died."
His hand curled around her neck again, turning her head to him as his lips touched hers.
"Tonight, you're going to swear you've died in my arms."
There was something in his gaze that captured her. Something so primitive, so fierce it stole her breath.
"No means no," he told her. "If you say no, I'll stop whatever makes you uncomfortable. But be certain, Jaci, that it makes you uncomfortable. Make certain it's not just fear of the unknown that makes you turn it away. Because if you say no, we don't revisit that again. I won't ask it of you again."
He pushed her to the bed, moving beside her as she stretched out on her stomach, that fear of the unknown already rising inside her.
"Why are we doing this now?" she whispered.
"Because it's the only alternative to the sharing that I have." He bent over her, his lips caressing the shell of her ear as his hand traveled down her back. "Because I'm burning inside, Jaci. Burning to hear you scream for me, to watch your eyes glaze over and your body shudder. Because it's a hunger I can't control."
"What are you going to do?"
His hand slid over her ass again, then lifted.
"Everything."
His hand landed on her ass again, a gentle slap, slightly more than a tap or a heavy pet.
Jaci jerked, her hips arching as she drew in a harsh breath.
"It burns a little more each time." His hand landed again, but added to the burn was the feel of his lips and teeth at her shoulder, in a caress whose pleasure seemed amplified by that slight burn at her rear.
Pleasure and pain.
Her fingers curled into the sheet beneath her as she fought to hold onto her senses. She could feel the anticipation curling inside her now, that dark force of arousal beginning to churn in her womb.
Her thighs parted as his hand slid between them. As he pushed at the back of her knee, she rose slightly until her ass was elevated.
"I want you here." His fingers slid beneath the elastic band that ran between the cheeks of her ass, and the thick pad of his finger pressed against the entrance to her ass. "Right here. I want to feel how hot your ass is, Jaci. I want to feel you taking me, hear you begging for more." His voice was a smooth, controlled demand, as her eyes widened.
She wasn't saying no. She couldn't. She could remember the feel of his fingers inside her, the pleasure and the pain, and she needed more.
"Pain and pleasure." He kissed the back of her neck. "But first things first. Turn over for me baby. Let me get you ready, then we'll fly together."
Fly together?
She turned, already burning as she stretched out on the bed before him, her thighs shifting, parting as his hand caressed down one leg, easing them apart.
Cam knelt on the bed before her, the hard length of his cock standing out from his body, tempting her.
Her mouth watered to taste him again, the desire rose inside her like a conflagration that wiped out her control.
She licked her lips and watched in regret as he came over her, that stiff length of hard flesh disappearing for a second while his lips settled over hers.
That kiss. Cameron's kiss. It burned inside her soul.
Her arms lifted from the bed and wrapped around his shoulders, her palms and her fingertips feeling his flesh, the tough, hard muscles beneath strong skin. Warm and vibrant, and for this moment, hers.
"I love your sweet lips," he murmured against them, before licking over them. "Look at me, Jaci. Let me see your eyes while you burn."
She had to force her lashes open, and when she did, a whimpering sigh tore from her throat.
His expression was filled with tormented need, with a desire, a hunger, a burning flame of desperation that pierced her soul.
"There you go," he crooned. "Just like that, Jaci. Let me see you. Let me see you need me."
He needed to see her eyes. He needed to watch her, needed to watch the fine edge of agonizing pleasure as it began to sweep over her.
Here he could forget what he had once been. In her arms, from the first touch, the first kiss, it was pure pleasure, nothing more. Just Jaci burning with him, needing him, rather than simply wanting him. Pure desperation rather than pure depraved lust. She
ached for the pleasure he could give her, and he wanted to give her so much.
Holding her eyes, he let his lips settle over hers, his tongue piercing them, sweeping inside to wrestle with hers in a kiss that had him tightening, forcing back the wild hunger.
She did that to him. She made him crazy. Made him so desperate to push her, to make her wild, that it ate at him like a sensual disease.
"Come here." He lifted his lips, then pulled her arms from around his neck, stretching them above her head. "Just like that."
"But I want to touch you." Her voice was thick, yearning.
Cam grimaced, hearing the need gathering inside her.
"Later. This time, it's just for you, sweetheart. Just feel. Let me love you, Jaci. Just like this. Watch me, feel me."
She watched him.
His lips settled over hers in a kiss that ate at her sensuality. She stretched beneath him, a ragged moan leaving her lips as her nipples brushed against his chest.
Cam framed her face with his hands, caressed her jaw and down her neck and was kissing her with a fierce driving hunger that reflected in the green fire of his eyes. Lips, teeth, and tongue, he devoured her until she was shaking against him, reaching for more, her body lifting to him as desperate mewls of pleasure echoed in her throat.
When she was certain the need couldn't rise higher, his lips slid from hers, nibbled down her neck, and kissed over her shoulder while her neck arched and her lashes drifted closed.
"Look at me, Jaci. Watch me." The hunger for it was a growl in his voice.
Her lashes lifted, her head lowering again as her panting became low, pleasure-filled cries.
"So beautiful," he whispered, touching her cheek as his lips hovered over a nipple. "Your eyes, Jaci. I can see straight to your soul. See the pleasure building inside you. I want to see that, baby."
She could barely see him. She was dazed from the pleasure to the point that she had to force her gaze to clear, force his face into focus.
That did nothing to help her self-control. His dark face was flushed, the color of his eyes darkening as his head lowered. His gaze locked to hers as his lips covered her nipple and he drew it into his mouth.
Her cry was ragged, shocking her. She fisted her fingers in the sheet, pulling at it as his hand slid down her stomach, caressing and touching as he suckled at her.
The sensations were building inside her. One atop the other, each touch making each shard of pleasure sharper, deeper. Opening her soul further to his touch, despite her vow to keep him from that deepest part of her.
But he was taking it, overtaking it, overwhelming her. As she stared into his eyes, she could feel him inside her.
His lips moved from one nipple to the other, his palm cupping the mound while his other hand slid between her thighs, his fingers feathering over the curls there.
"I want you bare here," he told her, the words barely registering. "Promise me, Jaci. I want your pretty flesh bare for me. Nothing between you and my touch."
"Yes." She was only barely aware of what she was agreeing to—to the need to feel him, skin on skin, on every part of her body.
His smile was tight, triumphant, as he licked at her nipple, then moved lower.
His kisses were like touches of fire, laser points of exploding, cascading desire that wrapped around her mind and her senses.
"I need to touch you," she cried out as his lips traveled down her stomach, his hands pushing her thighs farther apart.
"Not yet," he breathed against her flesh. "Stay just like that, Jaci."
His breath whispered over the saturated curls between her thighs as she arched and fought to breathe. Oh God, she couldn't handle this. It was too much.
She could feel the perspiration gathering on her body, heat filling her to the point that she expected to see flames at any second.
"Get ready." His fingers parted the swollen lips between her thighs. "Now it gets hot, Jaci."
It wasn't hot yet? She was dying.
She stared down at him, her eyes widening as he reached to the side of the mattress and lifted several items she hadn't seen him place on the bed.
"Cam." She heard the hesitancy in her own voice.
"No means no," he told her again, pausing. "Be sure before you say no, Jaci."
She licked her lips, catching the lower curve between her teeth as he laid the items between her thighs.
"One step at a time," he promised. "One pleasure at a time. I promise. Slow and easy."
His head lowered and his tongue swiped through the juice-laden slit, flickered around her clit as her senses exploded.
Jaci felt her hips arch involuntarily, felt pleasure wash over her in blinding, heated waves. The sound of his murmur of approval against the swollen bud was nearly too much pleasure. Her lashes fluttered, almost closing before she forced them open once more, locking her gaze with his.
"Good girl," he whispered, and delivered a gentle, sucking kiss to the tormented bud, and she trembled and shook at the sensation.
It was never-ending. The pleasure kept rising and rising inside her. His tongue licked and stroked, two fingers slid inside the weeping entrance of her pussy, where he stretched her, caressed her, and had her arching closer.
Her orgasm was just out of reach. Tormenting, burning. It built inside her with no hope of ease. He slowly pulled back.
"Don't stop." Her voice trembled as hard as her body. "Please, Cam."
"Turn over for me." His hand cupped her hip and lifted.
"Not yet," she cried out. "Don't stop yet, Cam."
He smiled. Warmth, lust, desire, and hunger were reflected in the curve of his lips. Approval glowed in his eyes, but it didn't sway him.
"We're not finished yet, sweetheart. Just a little while longer. Just a little more pleasure."
"You're going to torture me," she moaned, but she couldn't complain too hard—because it was unlike anything she had known before, anything she could have ever imagined.
Sweet heaven, the pleasure was incredible. It was flashing through her, brilliant rays of sensation so hot, so incredibly deep, that she wondered if she would survive it. And he said there was more?
19
Cam watched her eyes for as long as possible. Those brilliant green-and-blue-flecked depths, not really hazel, the colors too intense for that, as they glazed over, grew mesmerized with the pleasure.
She was wanton, adventurous, more so than she even suspected. He saw it in her eyes, and when she settled on her stomach, he saw it in the quivering curves of her ass.
She knew what was coming. She knew what he needed. At least part of it.
There was a point where a woman surrendered everything to her lover—physically, mentally—when she gave up control, trusting the one that held her to protect her pleasure, to draw her into the final sphere of pleasure.
At that point, her body belonged to the hand that brought that pleasure, and her body was willing to give up every measure of sensuality and surrender to the right touch.
He smoothed his hand over her ass. Soft, rounded flesh trembled and tensed, and he smiled tightly. She was almost there—not quite, but getting closer.
He eased the thong from her, watching as her thighs and buttocks tightened, lifted to him, then eased back to the mattress. Once there, she shifted again, pressed deeper, searching for enough friction to ease the ache in her clit.
His hand landed on her ass, the flesh blushing slightly as she gasped and grew still.
"Relax," he murmured.
"Relax?" The moan in her word was filled with need.
"You need to relax for this." His hand lowered again, delivering a burning little caress to her rear, and this time, she lifted to him.
Moving to her side, he let his lips trail down her spine. For every kiss along the silken flesh, his hand landed on her rear. The delicate, burning little slaps had her moaning within seconds, lifting, reaching, the additional sensations whipping insid
e her as she begged for more.
Her voice was dazed, almost incoherent. Her body shook, trembled, and the muscles of her ass eased; and as his lips reached the dimpled rise, the cleft of her buttocks parted easily beneath his fingers.
He kissed each cheek, then kissed inside the cleft. A second later, his tongue rasped around the puckered entrance as a shuddering cry tore from her lips.
He was burning with her now. He could feel the edge of his control fraying as he lifted her hips, turned, and eased his head beneath her before pulling her to him. He needed this. Needed to show her what she meant to him. The need for it tormented him.
His lips sank into fragrant, sweet juices. Her cry filled his ears. As he licked at the spill of sweetness he lubricated his fingers, then found that tender, tiny entrance once more. The toys. The play. Keeping her sexually off balance aided the slight distance he needed now.
Jaci's eyes flared wide and unseeing, ecstatic, burning pleasure swamping her senses, as she felt the smooth glide of his fingers in her rear, his lips at her sex.
She tried to twist in his hold, to get closer, but his arm tightened around her hips, holding her in place.
His finger slid deeper, retreated, then another joined and entered.
She screamed out at the sensations. Surely she couldn't bear it. It was too much. Too much pleasure, too much heat. She could feel tiny explosions whipping through her senses, her mind, her body. Nerve endings were exploding with pleasure, burning.
Her nails dug into the bed, fractured cries tore from her lips as his tongue circled her clit, drew it into his mouth, and brought her close. Oh God, so close. She was so close to exploding, to finding a pleasure she knew for certain would destroy her, tear into her soul, leave her wasted and reaching for more. She would always need more now, would always beg for it.
Just as she was begging now, her voice torn, ragged, as he stretched her where she had never been truly stretched before. Preparing her for a possession of more than just her body.
"Now!" He pulled from between her thighs, ignoring her attempts to scream, to protest the throbbing, aching emptiness inside her pussy, the gnawing agony of her clit.