She smiled down at him. You’re a very special man, Jason Vanderby. “Here I go with my picture.” She touched her finger to his back, the first contact a startling awakening…for them both; his muscles contracted slightly under her caress, and she discovered that his skin was both soft and firm, stretching pliantly over muscles and sinew.
She grazed her fingers straight up his spinal column to form a trunk, then dusted leaves all over his shoulder blades.
As she worked, Jason’s breathing evened out and deepened.
“Can you tell what I’m drawing?” she asked, still making leaves.
“A tree,” he answered in a voice of muffled gravel.
She jerked her eyebrows up. Impressive. “Okay, what kind of tree?” She swirled circles in the branches.
“Melon?” he mumbled.
A laugh escaped her. “Melons grow on vines.”
“Ah, yeah…I don’t care. What you’re doing feels great. Keep going.”
She laughed again, softly. “It’s a coconut tree.”
The side of his mouth she could see bent into a smile. “Then I would have to counter with this: coconut trees have fronds, not leaves.”
She swatted him.
He chuckled groggily.
“I can see I need to draw something more complex.” She swiped her palm over the full expanse of his back, saying, “Erase.” Then she began at his lower back as before and stroked her fingers straight up his spine again, creating a thinner line—a stem. She went on to draw an intricate network of petals. She sat back. “Well?”
He garbled out his guess.
“What?”
“A twister.”
“You mean a tornado?”
He grunted.
“It was a rose!”
His tone turned dry. “Now why didn’t I get that?”
“Would you prefer that I draw a machine gun, Commander?” She made her tone just as droll.
“Yes,” he murmured. “I really would, Doctor.” He tucked his face deeper into the pillow. “Although you’re not supposed to tell me beforehand.”
She chuffed. “Let me think of something else.” She brushed a stray piece of bed lint off his back, and her mind wandered away from drawings. She studied him, a picture in and of himself. The fan of his lowered lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, and the sight reminded her of how he’d looked their first night together in the horse barn. She’d been fascinated by his body, then, his hands, his wrists, his long legs…his phallus.
So many discoveries had followed; the idea that not all male sex organs were repulsive, that desires, both emotional and physical, could be healthy and good, that sharing trust and secrets didn’t have to drop the sky on her head…that her search for intimacy had been realized. Here Jason was, laid out before her, giving himself to her completely. She just needed to take what he was offering.
She glanced again at his buttocks. “For this picture,” she said around a soft lump in her throat, “I’m going to need more surface area.” She pinched up a corner of the sheet covering his lower half, and her next breath hovered poised in her lungs. She pulled the sheet down, exposing his naked buttocks, a magician revealing a wonder. She kept tugging, drawing the sheet down to his knees, uncovering the lovely arch of his hamstrings.
A small shudder rippled over Jason’s body, although no goosebumps appeared on his bottom—she knew this for certain; she was avidly scrutinizing the rounded hill of muscles.
“Ready?” She rose up high on her knees.
An anticipatory tautness rolled off him. He was, without doubt, no longer groggy.
Neither was she. She settled all her fingers high up on his shoulder blades, then dragged them down slowly. When she came to his waist, she continued onward, riding over the twin hills of his butt.
The tips of his fingers pressed into the mattress.
“It’s rain,” she told him in a raspy voice, caressing the length of his hamstrings down to the backs of his knees. “A lot of rain…a storm.”
She sat back on her heels.
Small areas of quivering tension danced all over his body.
She studied his bare buttocks, the powerful shape of the muscles, the smooth, hairless skin. She reached out and stroked down the center furrow.
A swift breath escaped him.
She didn’t stop, but trailed her fingers all the way to his testicles and gave them a tickling fondle.
He came up on his elbows and turned slowly to look at her. A muscle fluttered along his jawline. His eyes were whiskey fire.
She set her hands in her lap.
He slid a palm along the top of her thigh. “What do you say,” he asked in a tone as soft and textured as moonlight, “that we go back to that first thing? If you’re not my flavor, I promise to stop.”
Her heartbeat fumbled about. It felt like it was trying to figure out if it should trip or skip.
“Farrin, a woman’s…um…” he paused, then uttered, “vagina…is not yuck, trust me. Not to me, at least.”
Trust me… She chewed at her upper lip. “What do I have to do?”
“Just lie back,” he said, eyes heavy-lidded. “Put your bottom right about here,” he patted the mattress again, “and relax.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Farrin’s heart ticked up from medium speed to fast as she got herself situated on her back. Maybe Jason wouldn’t immediately throw himself headlong into her crotch and start doing—
One of his hands settled on her belly.
Her skin leapt.
A corner of his mouth climbed upward. “I’m crazy about your body, by the way. I stole a glance at you when you were in your bra in Usman and Afia’s backyard. Very much liked what I saw.”
She flashed her eyebrows up. She’d never caught him peeking at anything other than her lips. How sneaky. “You said my bra was like a bathing suit to you.”
His eyes gleamed, the gold flecks near his irises growing more pronounced. “Bra or bathing suit,” he drawled, “either shows what a nice rack you have.” Leaning in close, his elbow braced on the mattress, he brushed a delicate kiss over the top of her nipple.
Her nipple instantly sprang taut. A quickening shiver trembled through her.
She inhaled a breath, deep and calming. If he planned to focus on her breasts, then she was going to be fine. She liked what he’d done to her earlier.
His tongue skimmed out, a sweet, brief enjoyment of moist softness that sent fiery streaks of sensation through her chest and down the length of her thighs. He grew more attentive, gliding his tongue over her nipple in slow, languorous laps, his head gently moving back and forth. Her stomach drifted lazily into the clouds. She watched him through half-closed lids. Having the lights on was so much better than darkness. The dim, yellowish bulb brought out the strong angles in his face, turned his supple skin to honey, and reproduced a shadowy outline of his aristocratic profile across her belly. And…there was something very sensual about being able to see what he was doing at the same time she felt it.
The magical excitement he’d awakened earlier when he kissed her and fondled her breasts stirred to life again. She knotted a hand delicately in the bedsheets, and—
She jumped and flared her eyes when he unexpectedly latched on hard to her nipple and sucked it aggressively. Her next breath whooshed out of her. More burning streaks of pleasure spiraled through her, shooting into her belly…and lower. An unfamiliar heaviness weighted her private area, and a foreign urgency stole over her.
Releasing her nipple with a firm tug, he skimmed kisses down the center of her cleavage. He kept going, forging a path down her body.
She gathered a lungful of air and held it.
He kissed her belly, a hipbone, her inner thigh, his breath hot and ticklish on this ultra-sensitive flesh. He journeyed steadily toward her core.
Her lungs hurt.
“Breathe,” he commanded her in a whisper.
Oh. She did, then grimaced at the ceiling. Relax! There was absolute
ly no justifiable rationale for her being nervous. Say it again, Farrin. Repeat and repeat again, until you get it. She was not a virgin. She wanted this new memory. She’d given Jason the lead to make it happen, so maybe she should actually let him have control. And, okay, she still hadn’t figured out what to do with her new desires, but wasn’t that all the more reason to go with the flow?
Well, then. I’m a grown woman with a good head on my shoulders.
His fingertips grazed over her mons, then slid down the entire crease of her vulva, riding slickly on the moisture gathered there.
Her hips jerked. Not her fault; her hips had done that on their own.
“Whether or not you realize you want this,” he said, “your body does. You’re very wet,” he added in a smoky tone.
So that’s what the heaviness down low was: her body’s natural lubrication. She’d never been aroused to this point before. Raham had always just clambered on top of her, slapped on some jelly-like lubricant, and forged ahead.
Jason moved back to her mons, and, with a rough sound, nuzzled his face all around in her pubic hair.
This again? What in heaven’s name was that about? Angling her head off the bed, she peered down at him.
“You always smell so damned good.” He buried his nose more deeply into her triangle of curls and took in a long, full inhale.
She flushed. What—?
He stopped what he was doing and glanced up at her. “Are you still relaxing?” he chided gently.
With an uneven huff, she collapsed back on the bed.
He grabbed her knees and moved her legs wider apart.
Her thighs quivered. No hiding. No covering. From her periphery, she saw his head dip down, and he—wild ecstasy blasted through her as something incredibly soft swiped across her clitoris. She yelped and bolted upright.
He looked up at her.
She looked down at him—and saw that her fist was tangled in his hair.
“How many times am I going to have to tell you to lie down?”
“But…” Her lungs worked. Both of her nipples stood erect and swollen on her breasts. “You surprised me.”
He grinned, devilishly handsome. “It’s good, right?”
She blinked. Swallowed. Yes, actually. It was. Clinically speaking, she understood that the clitoris was the area of the female sexual genitalia most densely populated by nerve endings. Reality-wise, that knowledge, experienced and felt, was something altogether…indescribable.
He cocked his head. “Do you want to watch me?” He dipped back down to her privates, despite the lion’s grip she had on his hair, and parted her fleece with his thumbs.
She felt her internal muscles flex. Not with nerves. With anticipation.
His tongue reached out, and she watched as just the point of it touched the tip of her clitoris, a butterfly kiss that was a thousand pounds of sensation. Wetness flooded her privates in a deluge of warmth and pressure. A small cry escaped her. She continued to watch—oh, shamelessly devoured the sight of—her little pink bundle of wonder bobbing around under his swirling and flittering treatment of her. And something happened to her. She bloomed and blossomed, softer and wetter. Sublime tension twisted into warm clusters throughout her pelvis.
Letting go of his hair, she gripped the bedsheets on either side of her. She arched her back and pushed her pelvis forward. Oh…good…
In a surprise move, he abandoned her clitoris and slid downward, finding her vagina. He immersed his tongue inside her damp core, and the flood of heaviness in her privates grew denser. You’re very wet. Now she felt almost painfully drenched. No longer able to hold herself upright, she let her arms slide out from under her and she plopped onto her back.
In and out, in and out… In the blanketing quiet, she could hear the steady squish-squash of his tongue rhythmically penetrating her. He was making love to her with his mouth, as he’d said he would. The sensation was unutterably good. A throaty sound tumbled out of her. Her legs shook and her toes tried to crawl off her feet. An ache for something more built inside her. Something…something… The tension would barely let her breathe. She twisted her spine.
In another surprise move, he abandoned her altogether. Just…stopped.
She heaved onto her elbows, panting audibly, and stared down at him, her vision blurred by need.
He was peering at her from between her legs, his lips moist.
“I’m okay,” she rasped.
His eyes sparked. “I know. More than okay. In fact, I’m about to make you scream, so I need you to take hold of a pillow and put it over your face when you do.”
She continued to stare at him. There were little round droplets of sweat clinging to her eyelashes. “You want me to do what?”
“There’s still one SEAL on post, guarding the outfit. We don’t want him to come running, do we?” He pointed his chin to the right of her. “Pillow.”
She picked it up and clutched it to her breasts.
“Okay, lie back down now. Here we go.”
She laid back down, her heart thundering, her belly muscles tight.
He edged in closer. His shoulders grazed her thighs, and then he—
She gasped out a sob of pleasure.
She wasn’t sure what he did, but it felt like his velvety tongue was mashed against her clitoris. Such soft, steady friction…back and forth, back and forth… She moaned out from the depths of her chest. With his fast breaths ruffling her pubic hair, he never lost contact with this most reactive part of her… Back and forth, back and forth…
A couple of those sublime clusters broke apart. A shudder of ecstasy rocked her. Her hips strained.
He held her strongly in place.
There was no escape, no quarter, and she blew apart, all the clusters exploding and flying every which way. She pulsed all over; her body, the entire length of her vagina, her womb—more powerfully than she could have ever imagined, wave after wave of rapture spasming through her, redefining her. A raw cry tunneled up her larynx. She barely managed to shove a corner of the pillowcase into her mouth before she screamed it out. Her hips pumped up beyond her control, her buttocks flexing rigid. The convulsions seemed endless, and the pure emotional impact of it brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d never felt this before, not in all her life.
Stars sprinkled behind her vision as she finally drifted back to earth, her body lolling into the mattress. She softly whomped her noise-dampening pillow over to the side. Her nipples were pebble hard, her breasts flushed with warmth.
Jason rose above her, his irises darkened to cognac. His dog tags swung forward and rapped her on the chin. He quickly unlooped them from his neck and tossed them on the bedside table. “Condom?”
Her brain was soup. It took her a moment to form a sentence in English. “Don’t you have one?”
“No.”
“I thought all men carried condoms in their wallets.”
“Mine tend to expire.”
“But… Oh, wait. There’s a condom in the first aid kit from your pack. It’s in my bag now, over by the chest.”
He leapt off her, his jutting erection leading the way to her bag. It was the first time she’d seen his erect penis naked. She was no expert, but it seemed a perfect creation to her. He dug out the prophylactic, unrolling it onto his sex even as he regained the mattress and knee-walked over to her. “Bend your knees, okay, and angle your bottom up a bit for me.”
She glanced down at herself. She was sprawled loosely on the bed like a deflated dancing air-tube man, a pool of moisture beneath her. She bent her knees and spread her legs to make room for him. His hips were broader than they looked, pressing her wider as he found a place between her thighs.
He planted a hand on one side of her while he used his other to guide his penis.
She put her palms on his ribs, holding on as the blunt head of him parted her labia. She lost her breath. Not in a good way. Even though he was slow and careful in the way he pushed inside her, an unexpected ele
ctrical panic shocked her.
A penis was entering her body again.
He sank all the way in, his pelvis locking flush against hers, and her hands flew to his shoulders.
He froze. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said automatically. Agreeable Farrin.
He studied her expression doubtfully…or maybe it was her fingernails gouging his shoulders that gave him pause. “I can stop if you need me to.”
Running her tongue along her bottom lip, she gazed into his eyes, the mesmerizing amber drawing her deeply into their depths. Thank heavens for the light. She was able to see his caring expression…and also to confirm to the broken side of her mind that this was Jason. Jason. No one else. He didn’t feel like anyone else, either. So strong and masculine, the length of his sex a solid and virile presence inside her, stretching and filling her in a way she’d never known before…healing her, instead of emptying her out. Emotion balled in her throat. “I’m fine. Just…taken aback by how good you feel.” She touched his cheek. “Keep going.”
The ghost of a smile stole across his lips. “All right. But if anything goes haywire, you let me know.”
“I will.”
He lowered himself onto her, six feet several inches of wonderful man, his broad and unyielding muscles pressing down on her breasts. He began to rock between her thighs, thrusting smoothly, the slide of his soft chest hair against her aching nipples making them pulse. The friction of their sexes was astonishing, the slow, luxurious plunge and drag of his organ inside her body sending her racing forward from Excitement Phase to Plateau in a millisecond. A moan rushed out of her as dozens of those sublime pleasure clusters formed again.
Gradually, he took longer strokes, tension mounting in him. His fierce face was close to hers, sweat leaking down his temples. He made a muffled snarl. “So damned good.”
His loud breathing surrounded her…
She hugged her arms harder around his neck. This is Jason. Jason. No one else. The sounds he was making were even different—the rough, heavy panting of a lover striving to give pleasure, not the terse, staccato straining of a man taking gratification for himself alone. Yes… She squeezed her thighs around Jason’s hips.
Wings of Gold Series Page 77