“I know you are darling.” He didn’t move. Didn’t reach out for her. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I’m going to touch myself again,” she whispered, her hand straying south already, slipping beneath the waistband of her skirt.

“You don’t want me to help?”

“Not yet.” She still wasn’t ready for that. “I need to do it now.”

His eyebrow flickered. “It’s that bad?”

She licked her lips. “Worse.”

“Then rest up so you can concentrate.” He patted the mattress next to him. He knew how weak her legs were, how badly they just wanted to slide apart.

She flopped onto the edge of the bed and lay back to concentrate on where she needed that touch.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispered beside her.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You ask too much.”

“Honesty shouldn’t be too much. Not in this,” he argued softly. “It’s only sex. Only desire. There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone. In seeking the pleasure you know you can get from them. I know how good you’ll make me feel. Now you know it too.”

“I don’t think I can express the kind of pleasure you might be able to give me,” she whispered. “I don’t think I dare admit it to myself.”

“You want me to help you? Want me to talk you through it?” he muttered, closer now. “You show and I’ll tell. Deal?”

She loved that raspy edge to his voice—as if it were rarely used. It was so erotic.

“Yes,” she groaned.

“You like relief?”

“Yes.”

“You want my hands on your thighs.”

She wasn’t one for talking dirty—but this wasn’t dirty. This was just real.

“Your hands and your mouth,” she muttered, her mouth was so dry she almost choked.

“My tongue?”

“Yes,” she groaned.

“What about my teeth?”

A wave of heat so blistering rolled over her and she moaned wordlessly.

“You want me to eat you?”

She closed her eyes at his enflaming commentary. She wanted that so badly.

“Can I stay beside you, or do you want me to stand again?” he gritted.

“Stay. But don’t touch.”

“Only talk. I get it.”

She licked her lips, hot but nervous.

“You want me to kiss you?” he asked softly.

She did. “Hard,” she confessed. “Lots. Long.” She ached for that. She licked her lips, eager to assuage their dry hunger.

“Do I take off your clothes?”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“So I slip my hands underneath already?” His lips quirked.

She pulled her hand away from herself. He was right, she moved too quickly. She breathed out and slowly touched her breasts through her bra, feeling the tightness of her nipples as they poked hard against the satin, just as he’d said.

“I kiss your nipples, suck them into my mouth,” he said softly. “I want to make that silk wet enough for me to see through it.”

She groaned.

“I’m gonna have to suck one and tease the other with my fingers. Then I cup your breasts and push them together so I can swipe both nipples with one long lick. You’ve got a gorgeous rack.”

She wanted to close her eyes. But she wanted to keep looking into his. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him.

“Keep touching,” he said in that low voice. “Enjoy each moment.”

But she stirred, her hips lifting. She needed that release again. “I ache too much,” she muttered.

“It’ll get easier.”

She shook her head.

“I love that you don’t wear panties,” he muttered idly, distracting her. Tormenting her. “You should never wear them. You’re open and wet and hot. I can slide my hand beneath your skirt and tease you anytime.”

She couldn’t hold back anymore. She slid her hand to where she needed it most and rubbed her clit.

He was suddenly there—close to her on the bed, his tantalizing words whispering right in her ear. “Let me give you something to squeeze onto. A helping finger. That’s all.”

She drew in a suffering breath.

“It’ll be better with something to ride on,” he whispered wickedly. “Trust me.”

She stared into his eyes. She did trust him. She didn’t trust herself. “Yes.”

Gently he slid his hand up the inside of her leg.

“Oh yes,” she breathed. “Yes. Yes.” She shook at that tiniest of touch from him and her hand fell away.

She heard his ragged breath as he skated the tips of his fingers higher.

“Luisa,” he muttered. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Not as hot as you,” she moaned and let him take over. She fisted her hands into the linen coverings of the bed.

He laughed beneath his breath. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Please.”

He pressed his mouth on hers—open and hot and every bit as passionate as she’d ached for. So intimate. Finally she tasted him and felt his overwhelming masculinity, his truth. She’d known he’d be like this—all power, all pleasure. He growled in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss. His tongue swirled into her mouth—teasing, possessing. And then he slid a finger into her. She ground on him—so she was rig

ht on him. And he was right, it was better. It was so, so good. She groaned into his mouth.

He was strong and his rhythm was so good. Just what she needed. How did he know that? She arched again, aching for so much more. For everything. He fed her, forcefully fingering, until she was unable to move—she was locked on the edge, anchored on him. His tongue claimed ownership of her mouth, his fingers stroked her intimate space until finally she convulsed around him—holding him tight inside her. Her nipples were screaming. Her skin so sensitive it felt like she’d been flayed alive. She clamped on him, gasping as the waves of orgasm washed through her.

“Still going,” she tore her mouth from his and panted, her body crunched in the agony of ecstasy. “I’m still going.” She’d never been though the wringer like this.

He caught her mouth with his again, swirling his tongue into her in a luscious, teasing stroke. Then soothing—helping to bring her back down gently.

She twitched as aftershocks ravaged her, moaning a little as he lifted his mouth only an inch from hers. His fingers slipped from between her legs and he brushed her skirt down.

“I’m happy to do whatever it takes to get you off sweetheart,” he whispered. “And I’ll do it as many times as you like. You’re fucking delicious.”

Dear heavens. She was limp—every muscle useless, while her heart felt about to burst it was pounding so hard. As the intensity ebbed, the most delicious warmth rolled in.

“Better?” he asked.

She stared up at him. Better wasn’t the word. The supreme relaxation she felt now was like nothing she’d experienced in all her life. Tender warmth flowed through every vein.

But coldness slowly snaked in as her brain clicked back online. With only a few kisses, only a couple of fingers, he’d ruined her. He’d gotten inside her mind. Inside her most secret fantasies and switched them up—she feared she was never going to get him out of there. Even when she was alone, she’d now hear his voice. His promise. She was always going to ache for more. She ached for more now. Which was why this had to stop. Right here in this instant. He was too much. She’d known that from the moment she’d first set eyes on him. This was exactly why she’d run. He made her feel too much and that was dangerous. It only ended in hurt and she’d had way too much of that.


Tags: Natalie Anderson Be for Me Erotic