Page 49 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream
He moves his hand to the other breast and does the same, holding his hot palm steady until my nipple swells painfully, then his thumb swipes gently across it.I hear the sound of him wetting his lips and something makes me clench my thighs together.
He smooths his hand down my chest and stomach and I stiffen, terrified he might go lower and feel my scars beneath the satin shorts. His fingers drag the fabric of my camisole upward until they touch my bare naval. I suddenly feel hot all over. Beads of sweat surface through the pores on my forehead and upper lip, and flashes of heat pass across my collarbone. A rough groan begins in his chest and issues from his throat.
The smallest of sounds but the hardest of impacts. “So soft…”
Blood rushes to my face. I’ve spent so much energy worrying about my scars, I overlooked the rest of my body. I’m soft because I carry more weight than I need to. The only time in my life I’ve lost enough weight to be deemed ‘slim’ was after Trilby’s wedding and my shock engagement. And it was Andreas who made me pile it back on again. The food his chef made was annoyingly delicious and full of calories. It built me back to my normal self, but my normal self would be considered ‘heavy,’ not ‘soft.’
His hand moves to my breasts again, and this time it’s bare skin against bare skin. No one hasevertouched me there before and I feel like I’m crossing all the lines at once.
A small whimper passes my lips when his thumb brushes my nipple again.
His gaze darts to mine then softens around the edges. “Is this okay?”
I nod, partly in acquiescence, partly in terror.
He takes my left nipple between a thumb and finger and lightly pinches it, lifting me off the mattress.
“Yes,” I breathe, then I flush hotly.
He shifts his weight until he’s leaning over me, then he pulls the sheets down and lifts my top until my bare breasts rise up, my nipples standing painfully high and taut. My chest rises and falls like that of a character from some Regency novel.
Andreas lowers his head and his lips part, then his tongue laves at my breast. I watch open-mouthed, growing hotter by the second. When his lips latch onto my nipple, sucking it into his scorching mouth, the relief is immense. The place between my legs starts to throb and I release a weak moan.
Sucking sounds fill the room as his lips part to take a mouthful of breast, then close slowly over my nipple before releasing and latching again. It feels so incredibly good that my nerves melt away.
When my left breast feels as loose as butter, he moves to my right and pays it an equal amount of attention until I’m squirming involuntarily in the smooth sheets.
I’m floating in such heated bliss that I only notice he’s lowered the waistband of my shorts when he starts to pull them south.
I tense again, instantly afraid of how far he’s going to go.
“Please, um…”
His head lifts and the heated look on his face makes me swallow several times.
“Please can we shut off the lights?”
Disappointment flashes across his face briefly, but he speaks a short voice command and the room falls to darkness.
There’s no time to sigh with relief when I feel his hot breath skate across my collar bone and his fingers slide down over my clit. I jump nervously, but he doesn’t stop.
He gently circles that cluster of nerve endings with soft, persistent fingers, occasionally pushing them toward my entrance, only to return them moist and slippery.
Then hehums, the sound low and untethered.
My head spins. I’m beginning to feel a need I’ve never felt before. I push my hips impatiently into his hand.
He lets out a pained groan, chased by soft words in a rough timbre.
“You are so beautiful, Serafina. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful bride.”
I release an incoherent sound, all my senses focused on the fire building between my legs. His words are only stoking it and I don’t have the capacity to hate them—or him—right now. I just want him to make this pressure bubble burst.
“What do you like?” he asks, like I’m supposed to know the answer.
He smooths his fingers over my swollen clit, arching my back, and drawing a quick breath from his lungs.
He takes my clit between his finger and thumb and pinches it. My gasp makes his eyes widen a fraction.
