That concerned him a little. “Hey, Lilah?”
“Huh?” The word came out on an indrawn sip of air rather than an exhale.
“I intend to linger. Go slow. You’re going to have to breathe through it.”
Deliberately she let out her breath. The hand in his hair relaxed. “Okay.”
Okay. Running his palms along her inner thighs, parting them, he kissed her through the shorts, nuzzled her long enough to leave her without any doubt that the scent of her—the heady notes of her first orgasm and the ripening promise of her next—attracted him. Her arches coasted down his hips, then back up until she parked her heels in the hollow at the base of his spine.
He curled his fingers into the waist of her shorts and tugged them down. Opting to save time, he swept her underwear along for the ride. She dug her heels in to lift her hips, then propped herself up on her elbows to watch him slide those last barriers down her legs. He tossed them over his shoulder without taking his eyes off her, then hitched his hands under her knees to prevent her from closing her legs. “Uh-uh. This tour’s just starting.”
“All right.” She expelled another breath. “I just…I want you to know you can make it a quick tour, along the line of what you did before. You could concentrate more up front, rather than—”
“Lilah?”
“What?”
“I don’t need a guide.” He couldn’t hold back a grin when she pressed her lips shut. “I’ll find my way around. I promise.”
“Oh, God. Fine.” Her head dropped back, and he imagined her staring at the ceiling like someone about to undergo surgery without anesthesia. “Do what you want. I’m just going to lie here and…ohhhh.”
That first writhing reaction to his tongue? Satisfying. So satisfying he had to do it again, and again, over and over until her gasps and whimpers became a song in his ears and the rise and fall of her body a dance with his mouth. When the whimpers escalated to moans, he raised his head, waited until she did the same, and smiled at her flushed face. “Should I stop? We don’t want to wake the baby.”
She made a frustrated little sound, flopped back against the mattress, and dragged a pillow over her face. He interpreted that as, “Don’t stop,” and continued the tour, this time taking in every wet, slippery detour her restless movements offered him. Seeing her inhibitions fall away for him broke something inside him, too. With his arms hooked around her legs, his hands gripping her hips, he took complete control, holding her fast when she might have retreated, driving her higher, faster, finding an almost vicious level of triumph in the helpless tremble of her tight, tight muscles as they clutched at the sensations his mouth and tongue delivered. He took, too. Took a punishing level of pleasure from holding out against the brutal demands of his throbbing cock to be there, right there inside her, to feel every hard, deep shiver moving through her.
When she arched up and over the first sharp peak, he gave in—reared up, bringing her knees high and wide, and sank slowly into all her soft, welcoming heat. The high-pitched cry of surprise that came from beneath the pillow she still clasped to her face worried him for half a second, until it bottomed out into a lower, huskier groan that was equal parts grateful and demanding. He understood completely.
Tearing the pillow away, he covered her mouth with his, gave her his tongue to muffle her soft cries, gave her his cock—levered his hips to the ideal angle to drag his shaft against her clit with every slow, measured stroke, to fuck the orgasm out of her in long, deep thrusts.
And when she was there, quickening around him, holding him close, kissing him fiercely and fully, she suddenly drew back and cupped his face. Soft green eyes stared into his soul. “I’m so happy,” she whispered, while her body just gave and gave and gave. Defenseless against her joy, he gave himself, too. To her, to them, to the moment—for as long as it lasted.