“None of those women were shadow riders, bébé. I might not be happy with the way the Archambaults raised me, but I am a shadow rider and an Archambault. I believe in what we do. On some level, I knew I had already met the right woman destined for me. So, I was careful.”
The right woman destined for him. Was that who she was? What did that mean? So he could give the riders children? She wanted to look away from him. The hand around her throat was too large and kept her head in place. She wasn’t wearing cuffs, but his large frame positioned the way it was prevented movement.
His lips were back, kissing each of her eyelids, then the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth before settling on her lips. This time there was a demand in his kiss and she opened for him, unable to deny him anything.
His fingers stroked her breast as he kissed his way to the upper curve. “I assure you, Brielle, between us, there is no chance of boredom. I am very inventive. I have every intention of earning your trust. We made vows to communicate with one another. When I want something from you, I’ll tell you. You promised to tell me.”
She couldn’t help but squirm a little. She had signed that paper saying she would ask for what she wanted or needed. She would talk things over with her partner. Unfortunately, that was extremely difficult for her.
His teeth nipped and then bit down with exquisite gentleness on her nipple. It wasn’t quite painful, but just the anticipation had her catching her breath and bucking her hips. One of his hands was still wrapped around her throat, and when she arched her neck back, her pulse drummed into his palm.
“I know you have trouble expressing what you want, but we’ll keep working at it.” His tongue lapped at her nipple, sending flashes of heat through her body. “Communication is necessary in all relationships, but in one like ours, especially.”
His mouth closed around her breast, sucked deep and hard, flattening her nipple to the roof of his mouth. The jolt was like lightning streaking through her body straight to her core, igniting a wildfire. Her nipple and clit had a straight line to each other. The harder he sucked, the more the conflagration built.
His hand slipped from her throat, stroked with infinite care over the curve over her right breast until his fingers found her nipple. He rolled and tugged in time with the rhythm of his mouth pulling at her left breast. Then his fingers pinched down, gently at first, his teeth finding her left nipple to match the increasing clamp.
Elie lifted his head to watch her expression. His knees shifted, moving subtly up on her thighs, forcing them even wider apart. Because he’d started so gently and the increase in pressure was so slow, at first, she was mostly aware of the way her legs were so wide, her sex so completely open and exposed. She wasn’t just damp. She was slick, even wet, once again desperate for him. Then the burn in her breasts turned to raging pinpoints of something between pain and pleasure. The fire was exactly what she loved, bordering on too much, but not nearly enough.
She found herself arching her back, thrusting her breasts at him, not certain if she wanted more or if she was trying to ease the ache. He let go of her right nipple first and slid his hand down her belly to her stiff, desperate clit. The blood pounded there. The moment he touched her, she nearly exploded. His teeth released her, but his fingers were exploring her slick entrance as his tongue licked at her nipples.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“It isn’t difficult to tell me what you like. Your body tells me, but I prefer to hear you say it. I want to know everything I do that makes you respond to me.”
Hearing him talk made her respond to him in every way. He kissed his way down her belly, his tongue swirling in her belly button, and then paying attention once more to the scar there. She didn’t know why, but that made her feel cared for and brought tears burning close. One hand settled in his hair. She didn’t know if he would object and she almost pulled her hand back, but when he didn’t say anything, she curled her fingers deeper, needing the connection.
Brielle couldn’t take her eyes off Elie, afraid if she did, he might disappear. She might wake up to find this was one of her many erotic fantasies. Her breath exploded out of her lungs when he looped her legs on his arms, forcing them wider still, and without any preamble settled his mouth on her, stabbing his tongue deep and flicking her clit with his finger, hard.
She screamed. She’d never screamed in pleasure in her life. Never. No matter what had been done to her. Her body detonated, shattered, came apart into a million pieces at the first piercing of his tongue and the flick of his finger against her clit.
He didn’t wait for her to ease down as the orgasm rolled through her. He used his tongue, fingers and teeth to keep the powerful waves building in intensity. Brielle dug her fingernails into his shoulder and scalp, desperate for an anchor, for anything to keep her from soaring too high. She was afraid she might lose her sanity.
Colors flashed behind her eyes. There was a roaring in her ears. Her brain fogged. There was no way to breathe. Then he was moving again, looking up at her, smiling, even as her body was still convulsing with total pleasure and she could barely make him out as he casually wiped his glistening face on her thighs. She found that so sexy, her body just rolled right into another orgasm again, or maybe she hadn’t stopped.
He knelt up between her legs, his cock in one hand, pressing the broad head to her slick entrance. Again, he didn’t wait, but surged deep, his thick length driving through her shuddering folds, the friction almost unbearable. He was big, filling her, adding to the chaos in her mind. Then he began to move in her, long deep strokes that kept her off balance, kept building the inferno.
“Elie.” There was no whispering his name. She was sobbing it.
“Right here, bébé.” His fingers dug into her hips, urging her to keep up with his insane rhythm.
Brielle couldn’t stop herself from matching the pace he set. The feeling was too good. At the same time, he was too deep, too thick, stretching her so there was a burning that accompanied the streaks of lightning that rushed through her body as the tension coiled tighter and tighter. She didn’t want him ever to stop, yet she was afraid to keep going.
One hand left her hip and he flicked her left nipple hard. A flash of fire roared in a straight line from her nipple to her clit. Her channel reacted with more shudders and deep in her belly the coil tightened. Elie slid his hand down to her hip again and continued to surge in and out of her with deep, hard strokes.
His gaze seemed riveted on the two of them coming together and then up to her eyes. “Look at me, Brielle,” he commanded.
She felt a little lost in a haze of bliss. It was difficult to surface enough to do as he said, but she blinked to bring him entirely in focus.
“You’re beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful. I’m grateful you’re my wife.” He bent his head slowly forward toward her chest. It wasn’t easy. He had to lift her bottom to give himself the room. “Come for me hard. Give yourself to me.”
His mouth was on her breast, the left one, his teeth clamping down on her nipple, the pressure hard this time. Fire erupted, engulfing her from the inside out and she did exactly as he demanded. Her body took over, her sheath gripping his cock with greedy muscles, powerful and eager, contracting and releasing, determined to milk every drop from him. She felt the hot spurts of his seed as he coated the walls of her channel, sending even more shuddering orgasms rolling through her body from her breasts to her thighs.
The aftershocks rocked her, so that she couldn’t keep from crying out again. Elie was still for a few moments, breathing hard and then, once again, his body blanketed hers, pressing his chest over hers, giving her his weight. His hand slipped around her throat so that her pulse beat frantically into his palm.
Elie buried his face against her neck, and sank his teeth into her shoulder. The pain moved through her, triggering another orgasm, so that her body clamped down on his cock. She felt the instant pulsing and throbbing as if he was still expanding, not shrinking, ready to leave her body. Her lungs burned with the need for air, but she didn’t want him to move. Not yet. She struggled to breathe shallowly.