Page 65 of A Dream of Redemption
Clary clenched his jaw and endured her touch, when all he wanted was to throw her on the rug and sink into the heaven between her thighs. He wanted to bury himself so deep and let her wrap those gazelle-like legs round him. Each time she caressed him he could feel himself heal, and his past didn’t fill him with self-loathing.
Her touch was pure heaven, her instincts sound. He watched the wonderment in her smile and another surge of heat, of pure unadulterated desire rose, hardening and lengthening the part of his anatomy that was currently the determined focus of her being. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold himself in check.
Not long, as it turned out. He made the mistake of looking down as she sent her thumb stroking over the aching head of his shaft and found a latent drop. She looked deep into his eyes, brought her thumb to her lips, and tasted, murmuring approval.
“I loved pleasuring you with my mouth. Can I do it again?” and she made to bend to take him in her mouth.
Control slipped. It would be over too soon if those luscious lips touched him there. He caught his breath, nudged her face up and found her lips again, drawing her into a kiss, and ruthlessly, deliberately, took over. He didn’t hold back. He seized and devoured, claiming her mouth, her lips, with a promise of a night of pleasure she would never forget.
He would dictate the pace. He impatiently drew her hand away and efficiently divested himself of the rest of his clothes.
—
He looked magnificent. An Adonis in the flesh. She took in the sight, drank in the glory.
He drew her close, then closer until there was not even air between them. Silken skin caressing his chest, his arms, his erection, cradled in her softness, while he plundered her mouth, holding her, and her senses, captive.
Helen tried to move closer, tried to merge herself with him. She wanted him more than she’d wanted anything in her life. Wanted him to be her husband, to share herself with him from now until eternity.
Far from resisting, she sank into his arms, gave herself up to his commanding kiss, surrendered and waited, nerves tight with anticipation.
Without breaking their kiss, he rolled her beneath him. The heat from the fire causing a sheen of sweat on their skin.
Helen let out a cry of disappointment when his lips left hers, only to moan in relief as his mouth found one tight, furled nipple.
His hot mouth suckled and savored; her gasp shivered through the room. He feasted, taking his fill of all she offered him. He laved her breasts, suckled, nipped—sending arrows of heat to her core. His hot mouth gave such pleasure she prayed he never stopped. Her hands closed onto his head, holding him to her; she was never letting go. His mouth was heaven on her flesh.
She rode the waves of delight he evoked. His hands roamed her curves while his mouth devoured her breasts. A wild wantonness erupted within and she reached for him. She gloried in the feel of his hard body, the evidence of his desire never more real. Helen stroked his cock once, and he growled deep in his chest. Her skin was flaming, her body melting, all her senses heightened and in scattered disarray.
Helen almost couldn’t breathe when his muscled thigh, raspy with masculine hair, rode against her dampness, but his groan of admiration saw her glory in wanton excitement. He deliberately shifted, pressing against the most sensitive spot, knowingly winding her tight…Her breath tangled in her throat.
She traced the rock-hard muscles in his arms as he braced himself over her, his other knee joining the first, pushing her legs apart, spreading her thighs so he could settle between them.
Their eyes locked and silently communicated. He looked down her bare torso to where their bodies would join, and the set of his face told her all she needed to know. The angles and planes were sharp with desire—sharp with love.
He lowered his head to place a gentle kiss on her lips as he shifted between her thighs. The hardness she’d been caressing probed her slick entrance and she watched fascinated as the broad, blunt head and its inherent strength inched slowly within her.
“So tight. My God if you only knew how this feels…” and he groaned.
He flexed his hips and pressed farther in. She felt every inch of his hardness, stretching and filling her.
“Oh, I know how it feels,” and she drew her knees up to his hips, opening herself wider so he could fill her completely.
He repeated the process several times, both of them mesmerized watching his thick cock move in and out of her. Each stroke enough to tantalize, to drive her insane. She moaned his name.
He covered her lips, took her mouth, adding to her screaming senses. She was combusting from the inside. Soon she was lifting her hips, writhing, urging him for more, her body aching, wanting…
He continued teasing her, only just entering her and then withdrawing, until she was wet and open and almost delirious with desire. Moving in a rhythm that was as ancient as time.
She lifted her head and found his lips. He took her mouth, his tongue mimicking his delicious torture below. He slid deeper, and his tongue plundered, ruthlessly. He settled more heavily between her legs, and she felt the power and strength of him.
He began to thrust faster, more powerfully. He didn’t stop but drove on, all the way in, steadily pushing deep, stretching her, impaling her. She tried to remember to breathe as the sensation of him, hard and strong, overwhelmed her.
He rose up on his forearms and his eyes, coal black under his lashes, glinted down at her, the weight of his lower body holding her immobile as he looked down and watched as he withdrew and slowly, even more powerfully, entered her.
“Is it always like this?” She looked at him with such love in her eyes.
“Only with you. Only with you.”
