Page 52 of Destroy Me
Making love, not sex. He understood the difference now. He just didn’t know if he had it in him to return the emotion Lyse gave so freely.
Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, he crawled onto the bed and hovered over her sprawled body. “Let me be taking care of ya real quick.”
Except there was nothing quick about touching her. From the back of her neck to her belly, he traced every inch, clearing away sweat and memorizing the lines of her body. Between her legs, he came to his knees and shifted her legs out, exposing her. Cleaning her. Taking care of her. Lyse hissed at the rasp of fabric against her clit, her lips, but also lifted into him, seeking more. A quick glance showed her nipples tight and straining against the air.
Feck. His cock hardened at the sight. She was fighting it, he could tell, forcing her breath to stay even, her stare fixed on the ceiling as she concentrated—but her body didn’t know how to lie, not yet. She was too new to sex for that.
She had to be sore. He shouldn’t do this. But even as he thought it, he was dropping the cloth to the floor and pressing his palm over her mound, resisting the urge to sift through the neatly trimmed brown curls there. The weight drew a moan from deep in Lyse’s throat.
“You want me again,” he said, hoarse surprise in the words.
Her eyes squeezed shut, her head turning to the side. Hiding. Lyse always hid when what she wanted seemed to be too much. But it wasn’t too much to demand pleasure; he’d teach her that.
“Lyse, look at me.”
She shook her head, eyes still closed—until his thumb pressed hard on her clit. Still so sensitive, her body pushed up on instinct, searching for more. And God, he wanted to give her more.
“Look at me,” he demanded, circling his thumb. Her eyes lost focus as they sought him out. “Do you want me again, love? Because I can give you what you need. I don’t have to be inside you to pleasure you.” The words rang in his ears, and he realized they weren’t quite true. He was already inside her, deep inside where he didn’t think she’d ever get him out. Where he never wanted to leave.
“I do,” she whispered hoarsely.
He did too.
“Touch those tits for me.” Grasping her inner thighs, he shifted them farther out, far enough to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders. Pink lips peeled open, and his mouth began to water.
In slow motion he lowered his head, gaze fixed on Lyse’s hands as they cupped her firm tits. Her fingers were small compared to his, and when they grasped her nipples, pinching, he could still see the very tips, watch as they turned berry red. He wanted them in his mouth, wanted that primal connection between breast and man and sex, driving deep inside the wet warmth of her body. But right now something else would have to do.
He opened his lips, his breath coasting over her skin. The first lick along her labia brought a shriek from her lips.
He grinned against her opening.
Another lick. Another cry of need. The scent of Lyse’s arousal filtered into his nose, and he traced over her with his tongue, one side, then the other, sucked her between his lips, stabbed his tongue gently inside. She was rocking her hips to the rhythm of his mouth. He stared along the length of her body, fascinated, as she pulled at her nipples harder than he would have dared, stretching them, bringing herself a sharp pleasure-pain to counter the softness of his mouth on her core.
Only when she was groaning deep in her throat, the sound almost continuous, did he surround her clit with his lips and suck. Gently at first, coaxing her higher, then more strongly as her hips bucked beneath him, her heels pressing into the mattress to lift her harder into his touch. She was gorgeous in her need, fighting for her pleasure. Lyse overwhelmed him, the sight of her, the scent, the taste—he realized he was pressing into the bed as well, trying to ease the ache in his cock, dragging himself against the covers in rhythm to his mouth. So close; how could he be so close when he’d just taken her, just come like he’d never even realized he was capable of?
But he was. If he kept on this way, he would beat Lyse to the finish. This wasn’t supposed to be about him, but his damn cock seemed to have other ideas.
He flattened his tongue and stroked over Lyse’s clit hard, over and over.
“Fionn!” Her hands came down, her fingers digging into his hair. “Inside me,” she begged, panting for breath. “Please.”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her clit swelled as his breath washed over it. Lyse shivered, goose bumps racing along her thighs. “I don’t care if it hurts. I want you inside me.” Her fingernails clenched against his scalp. “I don’t want to be alone right now. Don’t make me do this alone. I need you.”
She’d raised her head to stare down at him, and in those eyes he could see the truth. The hunger. The fear of flying without him after what they’d shared.
He couldn’t deny her.
Coming up to his knees, he scooted close until his balls met the wet warmth of Lyse’s opening. Wet—that’s what they needed. “All right, love.” He leaned down, nudged her hand away with his nose. “Give me that tit.”
She didn’t just give it to him; she presented it to him, cupped in her hand, nipple raised to the sky like it could stretch just the slightest bit more and actually reach heaven. Instead he brought heaven to it—clamped on, forced her nipple against the roof of his mouth, and sucked.
Moisture flooded his balls.
That’s it, love.He wanted her dripping, so wet she was drowning him. One hand went beneath her, arching her back to give him more access, more flesh in his greedy mouth. The lift slid her core along his cock, and his eyes literally crossed at the pleasure, a gasp choking off in his throat.So fecking close.But Lyse had asked him for something specific, and he’d keep his promise to give it to her. He hoped. He was right at the edge when her hands clawed down his back to grab his ass, forcing him closer.
“Fionn, I swear to God…please!”
