“Touch me.” His tone returned to the husky whisper that made her think of moonlight liaisons. Her hands lifted without delay to press against his chest.
The next stroke of his hands along her thighs did not stay on top of her leg. He smoothed one firm palm over the top of her thigh and onto the delicate skin of her inner leg. Her passage was quick to recall how good it had felt when he fingered her sex. Hungry and yearning, her body lifted toward his, her knees willingly spreading.
“That’s the way, my sweet, trust my touch to pleasure you.”
His fingers found the little nub between the folds of her sex that burned for friction to satisfy it. Lightning shot through her at the first rub, and she clutched at his neck to avoid falling back across the table.
“I have waited years to feel your arms about me.”
His whisper awoke tenderness inside her. Such soft words from so hard a man. She had never expected them. It almost sounded as though he needed her.
He stroked her slit, running his fingers through the wet flesh from her clitoris to the entrance of her body. Need clawed her, breaking down every thought until she was reduced once again to a whimpering creature.
She craved penetration. No matter how coarse such an idea was, she wanted him to thrust deep and hard into her sheath. Reaching out, she found his shoulders and pulled him nearer. The head of his cock pressed against her sex hot and hard. She muttered approval while he teased the entrance of her body once again. It was impossible to remain still. Her body began lifting to that finger, desperate to take it deeper. Inside her passage, the walls were sensitive and alight with more pleasure just from being touched.
“Forgive me, Bridget, I would save you this small pain if I could.” His words were too soft for all the yearning churning inside her.
Her hands became claws on his shoulder, her fingernails biting into his skin. “Enough. I am not so delicate like a child. I am a woman grown.”
He chuckled, his chest rumbling. “What you are is my woman!”
Curan’s hands cupped her hips, closing around them in a grip that was as solid as steel. He closed the remaining space between them until she felt the hard touch of his cock against her slit. Her folds were wet, allowing his rigid erection to slide easily between them and into the opening of her sheath.
Hard and hot, his flesh pressed against her, finally breaching the thin membrane and stretching her body until pain pinched her along every point of contact. She would have shifted away, but his grasp held her in place for the invasion. He paused when she drew in a harsh breath, her fingernails digging in deeper.
“Finish.” She hated being suspended in that moment of dread. Lifting her chin she stared into his eyes. “Now.”
His eyes glittered, his lips pressing into a hard line in response to her words. His hands renewed their grip on her hips before he withdrew from her body. Relief swept through her, but it was nothing compared to the longing she had for him to return.
“As you wish.”
The words might have been designed to be conciliatory, but he punctuated them with a firm thrust that didn’t stop partway into her. His hard flesh penetrated her deeply, and he held her steady while his cock burrowed into her. Pain burned along every inch of contact, her passage becoming a hotbed of torment that stole her breath. Her muscles drew tight, her back arching away from him, but there was no escaping his grasp.
The pain receded almost as quickly as it had begun. She dragged a deep breath into her lungs and gasped when she realized how deeply her fingernails were clawing into his shoulders.
“Leave them. I enjoyed sharing the moment with you.”
“You are coddling me by saying such a thing.”
Curan chuckled again. It was a rich, male sound that struck her as somewhat wicked.
“I am not coddling you, Bridget.” His hands released their grasp and massaged her hips for just a moment before resuming their hold. “I am making you mine.”
He pulled his length free and thrust smoothly back into her. “Completely mine.”
Enjoyment edged his words. They were arrogant and possessive, but she was too distracted by how good his cock felt sliding against her clitoris to give her temper any attention. She shuddered, wanting him deeper, willing his thrusts to be harder, but her position did not allow her to move very much, only a slight tilting of her hips toward each plunge of his length.
“That’s the way, ride with me, Bridget.”
His words were whispered against her ear because she was pulling her body so close to his. Twisting her hands around his neck, her hips curled up to each thrust. Pleasure tightened deep in her belly, more intense than the last time he had touched her. This need was deeper, stronger, and she cried out with the desire to gain release from the mass of need consuming her.
Her lover did not disappoint her. Curan’s breath was harsh, and a soft growl issued through his teeth as his motions became more frantic. He thrust harder and faster into her body, his hands holding her hips in place for each penetration. He lingered deep inside her for a moment each time before withdrawing and thrusting once more. Her heart accelerated faster and faster until she was sure it would burst, but she did not care. All that mattered was the brightening flame of pleasure burning beneath the path his cock traveled.
Pleasure erupted deep inside her, spraying up to cover her in thick delight. She bucked toward her lover, pulling on him because she wasn’t close enough. Her thighs clutched at his hips to hold his cock deep inside her. Curan snarled and thrust hard a few final times before he stiffened, holding himself rigid as she felt his hot seed flooding her. That set off another ripple of enjoyment, her passage gripping his hard length while she shivered with enjoyment. No words could express this need to remain close to her lover.
Their skin was dewy with perspiration in spite of the night air. Bridget felt his heart hammering as fast as her own, and his breath blew past her ear. He shuddered, his larger body quivering just a tiny amount. Her own became limp, every muscle losing the ability to cling to him. She became grateful for the table and its support. To stand felt impossible. Little ripples of enjoyment ran along her limbs, with only a dull ache to mark where he had taken her innocence.
