His lips were on her breasts; his tongue stroked over her distended nipples as they rose beneath the lace cups of her bra. His groan echoed around her, but his flesh was there for her touch.
Touch. He promised her touch.
She felt her hair across her shoulder, stroking her, feathering against her flesh as his fingers lowered the lace covering her breasts and his mouth captured a tight nipple in the wet, heated confines.
She jerked, arched. Flares of explosive pleasure tore along the nerve endings from her nipple to her pussy. Her juices were hotter, coating her pussy now, electrifying her clit.
It was just touch. Touch alone would swamp her in the dark abyss that threatened at the reaches of her mind.
“Yes, love.” His whisper was a dark croon to her senses. “Let me touch you. Taste you. You’re sweet, Risa. As sweet as sunshine.”
A moan gathered in her throat, a trailing little cry as she felt the closure of her pants release, the zipper rasping down.
Then he was touching her there. Touch, just touch. His fingers circled her clit, rubbed against it. His teeth rasped over her nipple, sending a surge of painful pleasure to attack her system.
She moved against his fingers, lost in the building sensations. She wasn’t frightened. There were no waves of darkness. The darkness was already there. It eased around her, slowly, washed her in warmth. It wasn’t dizzying. It wasn’t frightening.
She was barely aware of the cries falling from her lips. Her hips writhed against his fingers as he continued to rub around her clit, against it. He didn’t go lower. He didn’t invade the spasming, desperate clench of her pussy. He didn’t penetrate it, didn’t touch it.
His lips suckled at her breasts; his fingers rubbed at her clit. He stroked and she swore she might have screamed out his name.
One arm wrapped around her hips, but he didn’t restrain her; he didn’t hold her in place. He let her move. His fingers followed. Bright pinpoints of light began to flare behind her closed eyes. Flames began to race over her body, and before she could control the darkness, it rose in a sudden wash of light and color and exploded through her system with an ecstasy she couldn’t imagine.
She screamed his name. She arched, bucked in his grip, and then flowed with the next eruption of pleasure as his fingers finally eased. But he didn’t move. His palm cupped her mound, the pad pressing into her flexing clit as she rubbed against him, taking the last remaining pulses of sensation as she rubbed against him with jerky abandon.
She finally collapsed against his chest, her breathing ragged as shudders continued to race through her body. Her nails eased their grip on his bare shoulders; her thighs melted; then each muscle in her body followed suit. She was limp against him, torn by the knowledge that such pleasure could exist from touch alone.
“Precious Risa.” He kissed her forehead, pulled her hair back from her cheek, and kissed there as well.
He touched her with gentleness, though she could feel the tension in his body and sensed his lust raging through him.
“You didn’t,” she whispered, knowing he hadn’t found his release. “Again.”
“Shh. My time will come,” he told her, his voice raspy as he kissed the lobe of her ear. “This was for you, love. And trust me, feeling your pleasure race through you more than makes up for any discomfort I may feel.”
His hand still cupped her, but his palm rasped against the ultrasensitive bud of her clit, but only when she wanted it to rasp.
Risa kept her face buried in his neck as the final shudders eased through her.
She had never known that touch alone could be so destructive. She couldn’t have imagined that such pleasure could exist. This was what she had fought the night he had taken her? How insane could she have been?
“Do you know,” he whispered at her ear then, “a man who understands true pleasure understands that his woman’s pleasure is tied directly to his own? It’s a very hollow release, Risa, for a man who understands that, when his lover has not found her
pleasure as well. But it is a pleasure untold simply to see and to feel his lover’s release, whether he gains his or not.”
She burrowed closer to him, feeling a blush heating her skin. “Your accent is slipping again,” she said weakly.
He chuckled at her ear. “So it is. You’ll have to forgive me. I’m still immersed in my lover’s pleasure.”
She almost laughed. A smile did curve her lips, because she could still sense his own unrelieved need.
“Does it hurt?” she asked then.
“Does what hurt?” His hand eased from her, only to pull her closer, to allow her to feel the hard ridge of his cock rising beneath his jeans. “This? After several days in your presence, I’m becoming quite familiar with the situation.”
Risa lifted her head and stared back at him. There was amusement in his black eyes, in the shape of his lips. He wasn’t angry, but he was still very much aroused.
“I could try.” She swallowed tightly. “That wasn’t fair to you. We could go to the bedroom.”