by Donya Lynne
When he gazed back into her eyes, he knew he had to have her forever. His heart beat harder at the prospect, and his body warmed at the thought of seeing her belly swell with his child.
Damn, but Io was in it for real with Miriam. This was bad. Real bad. Because if she thought her father would blow a gasket over his giving her an orgasm, he would likely stroke out if he knew Io was forming a mating bond to her.
Armed with the knowledge that she was his mate, Io latched on to what little momentum he had going for him, because he had to find a way for them to stay together.
“It could work, Miriam. I can talk to Tristan and convince him that I can quietly see you through your rehab here.” He lowered his voice. “No one would have to know. We could keep it from leaking out into the community. Surely your father would appreciate that.”
She eagerly rolled to her side and propped herself up on her arm. Io could see her gears turning. Miriam was almost sold on the idea.
“It might work,” she said.
Io felt like they were conspiring to rob a bank instead of trying to find a way to be together.
“Of course it will.” He skimmed his palm over her hip, unable to stop himself from touching her.
Miriam drew him in like a field of wildflowers drew in bees. Intoxicated by everything about her, Io drifted and swayed against her as his hand explored lower then slid back up and under her shirt. He sucked in his breath when his fingers touched skin.
Miriam did likewise, her fiery gaze meeting his in wonder, but unlike before, this time she didn’t stop him.
“You’re not pushing me away,” he said, slowly easing his hand up higher.
“No, I’m not.” She gently dropped back to the mattress, biting her plump bottom lip as she stared at him and held her breath.
“Are you nervous?” He stared longingly at her lip. Her teeth stretched the skin in a way that made him want to take her lip between his teeth and suck it into his mouth.
She nodded. “A little.”
“Why?” The curve of his thumb and index finger found the lower swell of her left breast, and she breathed in sharply.
“Because you excite me so much.”
Io couldn’t contain his delight and smiled. “Is that a bad thing?”
She grinned shyly. “No, I guess not.”
“Then why does my exciting you make you nervous?” His palm cupped the underside of her ample breast and pushed, making the mound of flesh bunch and press against the T-shirt she was wearing. His T-shirt.
She squirmed and shifted, letting the fabric loosen so he could more easily feel her.
“Because I’ve never felt this way before.”
“Mmm.” Io liked hearing he was the first male to please her. The idea of guiding her through all the pleasures of her body when no other male had explored her path made his chest swell.
“You excite me, too,” he said. “And what you did earlier, coming like you did…that excited me.”
“It did?” Her back rounded as his palm eased up and over her nipple and his fingers squeezed.
She moaned.
“Yes.” Io leaned down and slowly rubbed the side of his nose against her cheek and inhaled long and deep.
She was heavily aroused. Just as she had been earlier.
Her legs parted and he slid one of his between them, his thigh rubbing against hers.
“What are you doing?” she said breathlessly, her voice soft and drowsy with lust.
“Showing you how good being excited can feel.” He dipped his nose against the tender place behind her ear and inhaled her scent again, making her shiver.
“I can’t…you can’t…we can’t do—”
“Shh, baby. I only want to touch you. Just touching. Like we did before, only more skin.” He released her breast and smoothed his palm over her flat stomach. She was firm, yet soft. Strong, yet feminine.
Io couldn’t deny that he wanted so much more than to touch her, but until she was ready for him, he would take his physical affection only so far. He hoped she wouldn’t make him wait too long, because if his calling phase struck him as quickly as the link had fired up between them, he would soon need her in the most extreme sense of the word. And once the calling claimed him, he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself from taking her body as often as his hormonal heat required him to.
She relaxed against his caress and moaned. “I like more skin. I like how you’re touching me.” The tips of her delicate, long fingers tickled a sensuous path up his arm.
He liked it, too. No, he loved it.
If she were any other woman, he would have had her on her back and her legs open already, his body plowing hers like fertile ground. But this was Miriam. Perfect, pristine, absolutely exquisite Miriam. The thought of taking such a female in so careless a way seemed criminal. And if she was, in fact, his mate, she deserved better than that. When he consummated his relationship with Miriam—and by God, he would consummate it—he would do so with the utmost care. He would worship her and treat her body like the precious treasure she was.
But for now, this was enough. Touching her skin and feeling her body shiver against his palm was plenty.
“You tremble for me.” His lips brushed against her neck as he eased his hand higher once more. Her stomach fluttered.
She responded by nodding and closing her eyes.
When Io’s hand covered her breast again, she tensed and groaned, breathing heavily.
“No male has ever touched your breasts.” He whispered the words almost reverently. “I’m the first.” He wasn’t asking. He already knew the answer, but proclaiming his unique status out loud made the moment more powerful and important.
She nodded, rolling slightly toward him and arching her back.
He looked at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as she panted. Miriam was unraveling in ecstasy before his very eyes.
He scooted closer and gently pressed his thigh against the apex of her legs. Her eyes blinked open briefly, but as soon as he squeezed the healthy mound of her breast at the same time he rocked his thigh against her core, she closed them again and gasped, her head dropping back to expose the graceful curve of her neck.
The knowledge that no male had ever touched her in this way had Io’s cock harder than a marble column. She was his. All his. Untouched and pure. So perfect.
Miriam’s erect nipple teased his palm, and from the looks of the peaked fabric over her other breast, she had marvelous nipples that rose like small towers at the crest of her heavy breasts. Io had to see them. He couldn’t stand feeling one beneath his palm and seeing how the other teased his T-shirt without letting his sense of sight partake in his exploration of her.
“I want to see you, Miriam. God, but I want to see what your body looks like under my clothes.” His voice was raw with lust, but he would keep his promise. He would not take her virtue. He would touch her, taste her, gaze upon her perfect beauty, but he would not violate her.
Miriam opened her eyes again, her gaze filled with curiosity, as well as the hint of something more…the thrill of rebellion, perhaps? She was breaking all the rules now, and it seemed the further she let him go, the further she wanted to take him.
She hesitated then slowly reached for the hem of the shirt and gradually pulled it up. Io held his breath, his gaze falling to her breasts, waiting for her to reveal them. Her skin was as pristine as he had imagined, unmarked and smooth, lightly tan and exquisite.
Higher the shirt rose until finally she bared herself to him.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice rushing on a breath.
Her rounded, full breasts swayed as she lifted the shirt over her head then self-consciously brought it down to cover her chest, her skin flushing. Apparently, not only had she never been touched, but no male had ever gazed upon her naked flesh, either.
Io grinned. “I’ve already seen you. No need to hide now.” He gently tugged on the T-shirt.
“I’ve never…” She too
k a deep breath, the hint of a thrill crossing her face.
“…done anything like this?”
She nodded.
“Miriam, I promise. I won’t do anything you don’t want. Do you want me to stop?”
God, he hoped not.
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head.
After a moment’s hesitation, during which she kept her blue eyes locked to his, she slowly let go of the T-shirt and let him pull it away, exposing her magnificent breasts again.
Her nipples were large and dark pink, and just as he had expected, they stood a good half-inch at attention, as if reaching for him. And who was he to deny them?
He rolled one between his thumb and forefinger, leaning down and kissing the other so softly his lips barely met her skin. She hissed through her teeth, sucking in a blast of air, then moaned as she sank back and exhaled. Her gaze filled with hunger, her eyes watching him with eager anticipation, and he leaned down again and quickly flicked his tongue over her hardened nub. Miriam gasped and squirmed, grinding her hips against his thigh.
The amount of power he had over her was such a turn-on, but the fact she trusted him not to abuse that power excited him even more.
She took a shuddering breath through parted lips, her gaze locked on his as her chest rose seductively.
“Tell me, Miriam,” he said, drawing closer. “How do I make you feel?” His lips brushed over her other nipple, but he kept his gaze connected with hers.
She blinked dreamily and licked her lips, taking another strained breath.
Io swirled his tongue around her hard nipple before sucking it into his mouth. He would make her delirious with need, push her to her limits, make her want him so badly she would never want to leave.
“God, yes.” One of her hands clamped onto the back of his head and her fingers fisted into his hair as her chest rose to meet his mouth.
Io loved the way her body responded to him, and he loved that he was the one getting the opportunity to show her the delights a man could give a woman.
“Tell me how I make you feel,” he said again, allowing his hand to travel back down her stomach to tease the loose waistband of the sweats she wore.
Miriam’s body quaked again. Damn, she was sexy. No female had ever responded to him like this. So raw and primal. Her actions held no ulterior motives, and even under her obvious desire, her innocence was ever-present.
“Decadent. Desirable. Free.” Her voice was a mere whisper and she breathed out a sigh between each word.
“And beautiful.” Io added.
His hand slipped inside the sweats and her grip on the back of his head tightened as she reached down and grabbed his forearm with her other hand.
An instinctual response?
“Do you want me to stop?” he said. His lips teased her nipple.
A choked groan caught in her throat and she writhed against him, but she didn’t pull away or tug on his arm.
“Tell me, Miriam.” He took her nipple in his mouth again, flicking it with his tongue.
She shivered and squirmed then released his arm. “No, don’t stop.”
“Mmm.” Io’s hand sank deeper.
* * *
Io’s subdued moan sounded almost serene, but Miriam knew better. Io was a male. A powerful male. And yet he handled her with tenderness. The dichotomy tingled her spine, and her blood heated further. Who would have thought she would take to such a male? Strong, virile, a member of the working class yet more like a prince with every gentle caress he lavished on her, whether with his hands or his tongue.
Was he always this way with the women he took to his bed? Or just her? Io didn’t seem like the kind of male who was used to holding back or putting the pace of the action into someone else’s control.
On one hand, she wanted to abuse the power he had given her. This was her chance to have all that a male could give her. All she needed to do was say the word and it was bye-bye virtue. She would finally know the feel of a male. Not just his touch, but how he felt inside her, body-to-body, locked in a primitive dance as old as time.
On the other hand, she didn’t want to ruin the beauty of what Io was doing to her. For the first time, she felt like a princess, because Io almost seemed to be worshipping her. To take away what seemed to be a pivotal moment for him, as well as her, by rushing into full-blown sex would be wrong. Talk about a law that shouldn’t be broken. This was one of those times.
His fingers glided over her nether lips, and she stirred uncontrollably through the shot of heat that pulsed like rays of sunlight from her center. Her toes tingled, her fingers curled, and her legs opened as he gently rubbed her up and down, up and down. Soft and slow, he seduced her body as well as her mind, his teeth nibbling the puckered flesh of her breast.
This was good, so good, so beautiful.
“More,” she said, the word more of an exhale than a spoken syllable.
Io complied and lifted himself over her body to take her other nipple between his lips as his index and ring fingers parted her so his middle finger could massage her swollen clitoris.
“You’re so wet,” he said before opening his mouth and drawing in her entire areola, sucking and licking her into a frenzy.
His middle finger slid through her slick offering and dipped inside. Not far, but far enough that he pushed against the barrier of her hymen with the tip of his finger.
“Oh fuck,” he said, his deep voice growling through the words. “You’re pure.”
The crude obscenity pleased her more than offended, and the satisfaction and reverence in his voice made her insides melt like candle wax against a flame.
“I knew you were, but….” He placed his forehead against her sternum, his finger still inside her but unmoving. His breath rushed out over her chest and against her stomach.
Io seemed to be paying homage to her, honoring and admiring her chastity, and she combed her fingers through the hair on the back of his head before flattening her palm against his scalp. Holding, just holding…and breathing.
He lifted his head and looked at her. “I knew you were pure,” he repeated, “but feeling it for myself—feeling the proof with my own hand—does something to me. I….” Io hesitated as if choosing his words wisely. “Miriam, you have a hold on me I’ve never known. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
The reverence shining in his eyes and the timbre of his voice, so solid and sure, nearly undid her. Io captivated her. He knew the penalty for what he was doing, but he did it, anyway. Not even the knowledge that her father could kill him for his actions kept him from her.
Some would call him reckless, but she disagreed. Io wasn’t reckless. He was fearless. And that was just the quality she needed in a male. To hell with what her father wanted for her. She knew what she wanted, as well as what she needed. And none of the suitors her father would match her with had half the spine and mental prowess Io had. None were strong enough to handle her, let alone meet her halfway.
But with Io, she was putty in his hands. Hot putty ready to be molded and cultivated into a work of art. Io didn’t just meet her halfway and handle her with an expert hand, he urged more from her than even she knew she was capable of. The orgasm he had given her earlier, for example, had shattered her. And as her body had slowly glued itself back together after its glorious rapture, she was like a stretched rubber band, unable to return to the exact shape she had been before.
Io was a male she would die and kill for, and who she instinctively knew would die and kill for her.
And that connected them somehow. Miriam couldn’t explain it, but something magnetic and larger-than-life was happening between them.
“Io…?” She pushed her fingers through his thick, dark brown hair.
His finger was still inside her, applying pressure that felt heavenly, making her want more.
Io’s body shifted against her and she felt his hard length rub against her thigh. His breath rushed over her breast as he rocked his hips against her ag
ain, then again.
He was pure masculinity. All hard male and domineering strength, coiled and powerful.
Suddenly, she needed to feel him, his skin, his fire.
“Take off your shirt,” she said, pushing up the hem.
She hated that he had to take his hand away from exploring her, but the payoff was in watching him reach around, grab the back of the shirt at the neck, then pull it off in one husky yank to display his olive skin and chiseled body.
And then his hand was back inside her sweats. His fingers massaged her, his body rose up, and he repositioned himself between her legs, poised partially on his knees so his fingers could continue their fiery caresses against her slick heat.
“Don’t stop,” she said, tracing her fingers over the swells of his chest. He had a deep, pronounced dip between his pecs, and she imagined licking him there. Maybe someday she would, but right now, she was enjoying the simple act of admiring his body while he played his fingers over her sex.
The pad of his thumb circled her clit, pressing and stimulating her. She knew she was going to come again. She could feel it working its way to the surface.
“Yes, like that. Just like that, Io.”
He was hers. She already knew it. Somehow, she just knew.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Io had never treated a woman with such care. He had never given so selflessly of himself. Until now, he hadn’t wanted to. For the first time, a woman’s pleasure was more important than his own. In fact, her pleasure drove him toward his own. Simply watching her body undulate and shake, listening to her deepening moans and uttered words of encouragement, and feeling her hips rotate against his hand as he stroked her clit with his thumb, was enough to push him to the threshold of his body’s sexual limits.
Her arms around him tightened, pulling him down as her legs quivered. The moment his chest pressed against hers, she convulsed and cried out as she came.
He pressed his palm fully against her, feeling her muscles clench and spasm.
“Oh my God, Miriam,” he said. His cock ached to spend itself.
“Io….”
That nearly did him in. Hearing her moan his name as she continued coming was better than a blow job, and his cock wept on the inside of his sweatpants as he groaned long, low, and deep.