He went down on his knees. He ran the flat of his hand across her straining belly and up to her breasts until she arched back, pushing out to him. Encasing her hips in his hands, he pushed her back into the wall, hard. One hand roamed her body freely, running down her leg, behind her knee, up her silky inner thigh. The other hand held her hips tight against the wall. She put her head back, her eyes closed. But he wanted her to watch. Watch what he was going to do to her.
“Look at me, Raven.”
She dragged her face down. Dark hair streamed in rampant curls around her slender shoulders, down to her hips, and her heavy-lidded green eyes invited him to push her further. Her red lips were parted, her chest heaving, and her fingers slowly entwining in his hair.
With his elbow he nudged on her inner thigh, coaxing her to open for him. She did. She parted her legs with him kneeling at her feet. He slid a hand under to cup her buttocks. Leaning forward, he ran his tongue along the hot, wet seam of her womanhood.
Her body bucked into his deft hands. “Griffyn, no!”
He clamped his palm harder and pulled her forward. He licked again, pressing the tip of his tongue in a little further.
Her fingers clenched in his hair. “Oh, no,” she moaned, but this time her hips pressed forward, into his touch. His. Surrendered. Dizzy with victory, he slid his hand up and glided gently along the hot, pink seam, plied back her folds with his thumb and licked again, the smallest, fastest, tautest lick, right at the apex of her womanhood.
She erupted in a howl of such pleasure he almost spilled himself. He moved in again, sweeping his tongue against her in rhythmic strokes that made her writhe against the wall. His hands gripped her hips while he licked at her and whispered, asking her questions she couldn’t answer, speaking forbidden words of desire against her flesh, driving her to a mindless state of craving, her body quivering beneath his touch. Small helpless whimpers and moans slipped out of her passion-torn body, hot, wet breathy things.
He spread her apart with his fingers and nuzzled deeper into the hot, slippery cave of pulsing pink flesh. Her strangled cries and pleadings grew louder. Licking and stroking, he let one, then two, fingers slip inside. Spreading her legs further, he stroked her with a third. She flung her head back so hard it hit the wall, her fingers restlessly tugging in his hair, a whimpering-wet goddess of passion.
Another slippery, pressured push came from his fingers deep inside, and Gwyn felt something start building in huge wakes. It shuddered in a slow wave through her womb, her legs, her head, her everything. It snaked in wicked ribbons up her back and down her legs and pushed at her, rolling her towards some cliff.
She arched her head back and wound her fingers more tightly in his hair. “Oh, Griffyn.”
“Does it please you?”
Her gaze was locked in his as he ran his tongue across her again, and nudged his thick, wet fingers up inside her further, curling them at the tips.
“Ah, Griffyn, aye…aye…” she howled in a throaty cry as the pounding wave crashed and exploded and rocked her inside out. She fell and fell and tumbled into a river of such perfect pleasure she almost died. It was everywhere and everything, rampaging, wicked redemption.
Griffyn watched her come apart. Her head was thrown back, her face contorted in pleasure, her body shuddering against him in helpless spasms as she cried his name over and over, her wetness sliding against him, her fingers tugging helplessly at his hair, and she shuddered down the wall in a frenzied, moaning heap of kissing, panting, furious femininity. He could barely get his arms around her as she kissed him and sucked his lips and raked her nails along his back, wild and wanton and perfectly woman.
Somehow he dragged them to their feet and pushed her onto the closest object, which praise God was their bed, he thought dimly, b
ecause he’d have taken her in a water trough if that had been nearer.
He pushed her onto the mattress and knelt over her, ripping off his clothes. He lowered himself, stretched out over her, and ripped open the thin linen shift he hadn’t got off before. Then he rested one elbow on either side of her head.
“You’re mine,” he whispered hoarsely, and closed her nipple between his teeth. Her breath exploded out of her as he flicked the nub with his tongue, still clenching it gently within his sharp teeth. He flicked again, harder and faster, his teeth an erotic danger just shy of pain, and she shuddered off the bed, up into his arms.
It was exquisite torture, holding her there, vibrating halfway into rapture. He released her breast and nipped a searing path down her belly and back up to the other, sucking her whole breast into his mouth while sliding his hand down her leg. He cupped her knee from the underside and bent it, pushing it out and down towards the mattress.
“Now the other one, Gwyn,” he rumbled, licking a path of wet heat up her neck to her ear.
Her breath exploded out of her, around a heated whisper of his name.
“Spread your legs for me,” the masculine growl came from beside her ear.
Her breath exploded out of her. She bent her other knee and let it fall down towards the mattress. Now she was nothing but open territory.
He positioned himself between her trembling thighs. “You are mine,” he growled again, then thrust into her. It was a single, slow, determined onslaught. Her tight, slippery sex closed around the length of him, pulsing and pulling him in deeper. “Mine.”
“Aye,” she panted. “Yours.”
He thrust again, another long, slow penetration.
“Griffyn,” she moaned, her head twisting back and forth, her eyes half-closed in drugged lust. Her body rocked into his, her hips thrusting up and down, her nails bit into his forearm, returning his damaging passion measure for measure.
Their lovemaking was as fierce as anything Griffyn had ever known, battle or rage or fear. Occasionally their lips crossed one another, but mostly it was a hot, hard thing, their union more about possession and being possessed than tender affection. It was a damaging rhythm.
His head lowered, his forehead almost on her chest, he surged into her again and again, filling her, pushing her wide. Her panting became rhythmic, her thrusting hips more fierce. Release barreled down for him. He plunged deeper, pushing higher. Suddenly she froze.