Page 22 of Nauti Kisses (Nauti 6)

There was no pain.

There was only John’s touch, the feel of his lips and tongue stroking their way to a nipple as it rose hard and tight for his lips.

“Don’t tease me, John,” she moaned, arching closer to his lips, desperate to feel them enclosing her nipple.

“You’ve teased me,” he whispered, pure sex filling his voice. “For a year, Sierra, the thought of your touch has teased me to near insanity. ”

His head lowered, the feel of his tongue licking around the sensitive, hard tip of one nipple, stole her breath. The damp warmth stroked sensations through the flesh that sent her senses spinning.

Slow, deliberate licks, each one avoiding the nipple, stroking around it, teasing her so unbearably that her hands slid into his hair to hold him to her.

Which was more destructive? she wondered. Those lazy licks, or if he actually took her nipple into his mouth?

She had no idea of the answer to that question, but she wanted to know it.

Before she could voice the demand, the plea, his lips covered the tender peak, sucking inside his mouth as the nerve endings began to riot chaotically.

Sierra could feel her nipples becoming impossibly harder. The tender tip he held between his lips throbbed and ached, ecstasy spiking through it and slicing to her womb as he sucked it harder.

Rubbing his tongue against it a murmured growl of approval rumbled in his chest as she arched, trying to get closer, fighting to press deeper into his mouth.

The feel of his shoulders, the muscles shifting and bunching beneath her hands, had her nails digging into the flesh as his tongue licked over nipple again.

The suction of his mouth combined with the lash of his tongue against the nerve-ridden tip had a cry tearing from her lips. He sucked her harder now, deeper, his tongue whipping over the sensitive tip with such destructive pleasure that she felt her senses rushing out of control.

Her hips arched, her thighs opening wider as she pressed the wet, aching heat of the enflamed folds against the hard strength of his thigh and rode it in pleasure.

He had to know how desperate she was for his touch now. How desperate she had always been. There was no disguising it at this point. No matter how much she wished she could fight against it, it was still overwhelming.

“John,” she panted his name as his hand slid from her waist to her bare thigh. “What are you trying to do to me?”

She was so wet she could feel her juices collecting thick and heavy on the bare folds of her pussy as he moved back, holding her still with one hand as the other caressed and stroked. His fingers stroked along her thigh, growing closer as his lips moved to her other nipple, enclosing it in the heat of his mouth as she arched and allowed her thighs to fall wider apart. She needed his fingers closer to her aching flesh, to the pulsing heat of her clit.

As his lips drew on her nipple, his fingers found the delicate knot of tissue, surrounded it, and oh so delicately began to milk the little kernel.

Sierra’s eyes widened. Her thighs tightened until she could feel the muscles straining, trembling. She could feel the orgasm rising inside her. She could feel it pulsing, pounding through her senses, riding a wave filled with heat and desperation.

What the hell was he doing to her?

She strained, trying to lift closer as he milked her clit with slow, firm strokes. Strokes that edged pleasure-pain, that had her body straining in pleasure.

“John . . . ” she panted his name, her head thrashing in desperation.

Sierra could feel her juices easing from the flesh between her thighs, a thick, heavy dew, coating the intimate folds, preparing her flesh for a penetration she felt as though she were dying for.

Lifting his head slowly, John stared back at Sierra’s dazed features. He licked one nipple, then the other, feeling her shudder in response as he continued the delicate plumping of her swollen clit.

She was so fucking close to orgasm. So close he could nearly taste it spilling to his lips.

“I remember tasting you that night, Sierra,” he groaned as he began kissing his way down her torso, loving the sweet-salty taste of the perspiration lying on her skin. “The feel of my tongue inside your pussy, feeling how snug and hot you are. I swear, the taste of you haunts me. ”

She jerked in his grip, hips arching, nails pricking his shoulders as his lips neared the silken, flushed, glazed mound of her pussy.

Damn. He was going to enjoy this. He was going to make sure she enjoyed it.

This was his sweet. His treat.

His tongue slipped inside the narrow slit, and in one long, slow lick he swore he became drunk on her. The taste of her exploded against his tongue like spicy honey, like addictive, sensual nectar.

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