Holding himself back was exquisite agony, but he knew it would be worth it.
The slick cream from her pussy indicated her wetness, yet he wanted to take her further. She was unused to such pleasure, new to having someone touch her so intimately, and he would use that to his advantage. It was certainly something to keep in mind when they next argued. Heated and aroused, Josie was unusually compliant and obedient.
Adam’s words about her being more suited to him than to Joseph—since he would be able to take her in hand—ran through the back of his mind again. Though Elijah would have never described Josie as submissive, now he had to admit his brother had been on to something. He would have to ponder the implications later. Right now, he wanted his complete focus on his bride. His wife.
Mine.
As the sweet flavor of her arousal exploded on his tongue, the possessive thought gripped him. He was the first man to taste her nectar, to feel her shudder, and hear her cry out in pleasure. Josie was his now. Though he had always felt protective, this emotion went far beyond that. He did not know how to handle it, so he pushed it aside and focused on her.
Her moans.
Her taste.
Her squirming movements.
Her fingers in his hair, tugging at him while she moved her hips, pressing her pussy against his lips as if he needed any further encouragement.
Cock pressed against the bedsheets beneath him, Elijah’s tongue explored her soft crevices, her sensitive pink flesh while trying to ignore his own needs. Curling his arms under her thighs, his hands reached around to come over the top and spread her legs farther apart. He looked up the length of her body to see her still watching him, her eyes glazed with lust, her expression fascinated when their gazes met.
As soon as the connection was made, her cheeks blushed a very hot red, and Elijah moved his mouth up, tongue flicking over her clit. Josie cried out, body spasming, her back arching, but she looked back down at him, watching him between her thighs. Elijah stared at her as he sucked her clit into his mouth.
Nails dragged across his scalp, her grip tightening, completely worth every prickle of pain as she writhed in glorious climax.
Chapter 11
Josie
The pleasure was agonizing. There was no other word for it.
Too much. It was too intense, far too much for a person to bear and stay sane, yet she could not find the words to beg Elijah to stop.
She did not want him to.
But she was sure she would die if he did not.
What came from her lips were moans and wordless cries. She clutched his head, her thighs trembling in his grasp. If she could have closed her legs against the relentless assault of ecstasy, she would have, but his hands held them firmly apart. When she met his gaze, his eyes were hot, filled with the dark flame of his own arousal. It was Elijah as she had never seen him, never imagined him.
Fingers pushed inside her, stretching her almost painfully, and she gasped at the rude intrusion. Her muscles clenched, making his fingers feel even larger inside her, yet the sensation was pure pleasure. The fingers moved, thrusting, eliciting another gasp. It felt so very odd yet so very right. She had craved this, even though she had never experienced it. It was far, far more pleasurable than when she had performed her own explorations.
Finding a particularly sensitive spot with his lips, he sucked, and Josie screamed. Her back arched, toes curled, and tears slid from her eyes, trickling into her hair and the pillow beneath her head. It was a blissful torment, a pinnacle she tipped over, then she was falling, and falling, and falling, and he kept suckling. Waves of erotic rapture crashed over her, pummeling her senses, and she gasped for breath as the foreign sensations drowned her in their magnitude.
When Elijah finally released her from his lips, she slumped, swooning on the bed, limp and insensate. Nothing her friends had told her could have prepared her for such a devastating onslaught. She would have never believed them, even if they had been able to adequately explain.
Fingers sliding out of her, Elijah kissed his way up her stomach to her breasts, his lips moving over her so gently, so briefly, her skin shivered at his touch. She was so sensitized, even the mere brush of his lips was almost too much.
When he met her gaze again, his body settling between her thighs, something thick, hard, and heavy pressed at the entrance to her body, rubbing against her slick folds enticingly. Josie’s breath caught in her throat. Despite the lassitude wreathing her limbs, her body came alive again with nervous tension. This was it.
“Who am I, Josie?” he asked, his lips hovering over hers.
“My husband?” Confused, unsure of the response he wanted, the words came out a question.
“My name, sweetheart.”
“Elijah.”
His dark eyes blazed, his body shifting atop hers. Pressing her hands against his chest, she could not look away as he shifted his hips and slid inside her. Far thicker than his fingers, he could not push in all the way. He moved slightly, then pulled away before thrusting in again a little deeper, claiming more space in her body. Wickedly intimate, she could not close her eyes, could not look away, as he breached her virgin entrance and buried himself inside her.
It hurt more than his fingers had but felt better. When he thrust a little harder, shoving more of himself inside her, she cried out, and his lips descended on hers. The sweet, salty taste unfamiliar, she realized she tasted herself on him. The utter perverseness of the act both aroused and repelled her, but there was no stopping him now.