Page 66 of Elanie & the Empath
“Don’t be afraid, sweetheart,” he said, his lips forming the words over the skin of my shoulder. “Let it build.”
And it did, a fire burning beneath my ribs, a heart beating inside my cells. Stars shone behind my closed eyes, tiny swirls of light, fractal shapes expanding and contracting as he kissed my breast. A thread pulled tight between where his fingers moved over my clitoris and his tongue swirled around my nipple, like these parts of me shared the same neurology, the same circuitry. Like they were connected. Like it was all connected.
“Sem,” I whimpered as that deep, heavy tension swirled through me again. “It’s coming.”
He hummed, raising his head, watching me while his fingers circled faster and faster. While he tore any semblance of control from my grasp.
Flames licked at my belly as pure sensation gripped me. It built and built, and I gasped and moaned and writhedunder his touch. And just when I thought I couldn’t take another second of the pleasure winding so tightly inside me it felt like it might become pain, it reeled back, stilled, and exploded, shooting light and heat into my chest and my stomach, wrapping electric waves around my spine. Muscles I didn’t know I had squeezed and released, drumming in time with my heartbeat as ecstasy raced over my skin, up my neck, down my thighs. And I was no longer myself. I was no longer in our bed, on this planet. I was gone.
Sunny had been right, my clitoriswasthe center of the universe. And now I drifted through space, free of gravity, free of the confines of my body, of thought or speech or sound. Until I heard him say, with so much tenderness in his voice, “You’re so beautiful when you come.”
As I slowly sank back into myself, I felt his hand splayed on my belly, saw his eyes drink me in. “I am?” I asked, barely feeling my lips moving, barely hearing my own voice.
Rolling on top of me, he nestled between my legs, careful to hold his weight above me. “How did it feel?”
How did it feel? Was there a way to describe what he’d just done to me? A single word that could explain all the ways he’d changed me on a cellular level?
There wasn’t, so I settled on “Amazing.” The smile I gave him was lazy and satisfied and completely novel. “That was amazing. Can we do it again?”
When he chuckled, I felt how hard he was against me, how solid and heavy and hot.
“Of course we can do it again. You can also do it to yourself, whenever you want.”
The realization was a floodlight flicking on, illuminating a world around me that I’d kept in the shadows. “Stars, Sem. I could have been doing that to myself this whole time?”
His laughter was the sound of pure joy, and I rolled himover, propping myself up onto an elbow. As his expression settled into something hungrier, I took in his clear eyes, his smiling mouth, his strong jaw and broad chest. Then I stared down at his penis pushing against his pants. “It’s gotten so hard,” I said. “Does it hurt?”
He ran his fingers through a strand of my hair. “No, it doesn’t hurt.”
Underneath the post-orgasm ecstasy, the hormones surging through my bloodstream, a new sensation sank into me, warming my bones until they glowed. It wasn’t happiness. It went deeper than that. It wasn’t longing or desire either, because I’d never felt so satisfied. It was affection. I felt a profound affection for him. An intense desire to know every part of him—his mind, his body, even his penis—intimately. “Can I see it?”
“Are you sure?” His smile was adorably apologetic. “It’s probably got veins the size of a Kuiper worm right now. I don’t want to freak you out.”
I laughed softly. “I’m sure.”
“Then yes.” He folded his hands behind his head. “You can see it. Touch it. Study it. Whatever you want.”
Biting my lower lip, I reached for the drawstring of his pants and pulled it loose. He raised his hips, and my hands were surprisingly steady as I slid his pants down. But then his erection sprang free, and I sucked in a breath.
“Stars above, Sem. It’s practically purple.”
His stomach muscles rippled with laughter. “It turns purple when it’s hard.”
“I can touch it?”
His eyes closed, and he said, “Yes.”
Gently, I ran the tip of my finger up the side of his penis, drawing back when it twitched away from me. “Did you not like that?”
“I liked it.” He made a low, throaty noise that heated my blood by at least two degrees. “Very much.”
Since he liked it, and I wanted him to like the way I touched him, I did it again, skating my fingertip all the way up to the wide crown at the top. “It’s slick up here,” I said, sliding my finger over the slit at his tip. “Does your penis like it when its wet too?”
“Mm-hmm,” he grunted, his voice rumbling.
I circled his base with my finger and thumb, barely touching. “Can I do to you what you just did to me? Can I give you an orgasm?”
Rubbing his right heel against the sheet when I gave him a gentle squeeze, he said, “Yes. If you want to. But it’s not necessary.”
