Was this one of the fantasies he’d once told her he had about her?
Nothing could be as explicit as her fantasies for him.
“No,” the desperate command burst from her lips as his lips lifted, from hers his head pulling back as he stared down at her. Deep sapphire-blue eyes narrowed on her as they gleamed with naked, furious lust.
“I told you, I’m going to fuck your pussy with my tongue,” he told her. “I have every intention of tasting every bit of flesh I bury into.”
Her lips parted on a shocked exclamation. A totally involuntary sound as her hands dug deeper into his hair. Her neck arched as his lips ran along her jaw, then the column of sensitive flesh as her head fell back weakly to allow him access.
Broad hands flattened on her back as he kept her close to him, despite her perched position on the table. Angling his body between her knees, he pressed her thighs apart as he nipped at her neck. Then he licked the light abrasion, his tongue rasping over the sensitive flesh with erotic roughness.
Another moan slipped past her lips. That part of her that lived in fear of losing someone else she loved was screaming out in agony. Begging her to deny him.
What was it about his touch? What made Rafer Callahan so different from the other men she had dated? So different that as he lowered her along the table, her back meeting the cool wood, she would try to arch closer in eager anticipation. So different that the voice of agony was slowly silenced. She needed this. Needed him, his touch, his kiss, like the land needed sunlight and rain.
His thumbs found her nipples as her back arched.
The exciting abrasion of his calloused thumbs against the sensitive tips had her arching, twisting to get closer.
“Suck them, Rafe,” she moaned. “Oh God, I need your mouth on my nipples again. Just one more time hard like you did before.”
She could have been shocked that the words slipped out so easily, the demand in her voice as explicit as the words themselves.
Her fingers curled, tightening in his hair.
She couldn’t stand to breathe. She wanted no other need, no other impulse, no matter how life sustaining, to distract her from his lips as they painted a trail of sizzling electric pleasure over her flesh.
The shaft of his cock pressed against the wet folds of her pussy, the grinding shift of his hips forcing her swollen folds to part and rasping at the tiny bud.
She wanted. She wanted him so badly that she could barely hold back a scream of reaction as the iron hot shaft moved against the tender bud, stroking it.
Not that she had the breath to scream. She could barely breathe.
Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze on his lips as he placed small, nipping kisses along the mounds of her breasts. His eyes glittered with wicked promise, with teasing sensuality. As she watched, his lips moved closer, then pulled back from the aching nipples.
Her nipples ached.
Licking her lips to ease the dryness there, she could watch, ache for more. As she watched his lips draw closer, closer.
“I love your lips, your tongue,” she breathed out. “I love it when you suck my nipples, Rafe. I dream of you sucking my nipples.”
Oh God.
Keening and low, shattered and weak, a moan burst from her as his lips covered an agonizing hard tip. It was like pure liquid heat surrounding it. His tongue rubbed, licked. Heated and moist, he flicked it over her nipple before he began sucking it with fiery abrasions. He drew on it with erotic hunger, sucking it, sending jagged fingers of intense sensation rushing to her womb, her clit.
“Rafer.” She was delirious with pleasure. “Yes. Suck it. Suck it hard.”
She needed more. She couldn’t get a hard-enough caress, a deep-enough touch.
At her trembling plea his lips tightened around the nerve-laden center, suckling it deeper, his cheeks hollowing, his tongue flicking against it, rasping the nerve endings as flares of brilliant flames began to ignite across her body.
“Rafer,” she cried out his name. Her fingers clenched in his hair, moved to his shoulders. Her fingers restless, desperate to experience the feel of his body just one more time.
One more time. That was all she wanted; it was all she ached for, fantasized for. She would survive if she could have him just one more time.
His lips moved from one breast to the other, copying the harder sucking motions of his mouth and the caress of his tongue. Each rasp to her nipple, each hungry draw of his mouth, deepened the hunger rising inside her once again.
“So good.” Her voice trembled. Need was tearing through her like wildfire. “Rafer. It’s so good.”
And it was.
Her hips ground against the wide shaft pressing into her folds, stroking her clit and the sensations higher as his lips, teeth, and tongue tormented her nipples.
The flares of sensation, fingers of electric pleasure that tore through her, increased the desperation growing in her womb. As though she hadn’t just come for his fingers moments before.
Lust burned through her veins as her blood thundered, rushing through her. It spiked her arousal with adrenaline and pushed her closer to a hunger she may never escape again. He had never taken her like this. He had never used such deliberate seduction and fiery caresses before.
Then his lips began moving lower. His hands gripped her hips, holding her still, steady, as she levered her upper body up on her elbows, panting, watching as intense, burning blue eyes stared up at her. He kissed his way to the moisture gleaming on her sex, his tongue licking a heated trail to her bare flesh.
His hands slid to her thighs as he moved farther down her body, slowly easing to the chair he jerked to him. He pushed his hands between her thighs and parted her legs as he lowered his head further.
Gripping her ankle, he bent her knee, pushing it back until he could place her foot on the edge of the table. The other he placed on the back of the chair still pushed beneath the edge.
She was fully open to him, the juices easing from her vagina, sliding along the crease of her rear, and heating the small, hidden entrance to her body lower.
She was too aware of each point of her body that he had paid such special attention to in the years before. His touch had that effect on her. Affected her as no other pleasure had, before or after.
Her pussy rippled with anticipation; her clit throbbed with the need for release.
“Touch your nipples,” he growled, his voice demanding and rough as he breathed the words over her clit.
Almost involuntarily she slid one hand along her stomach, moving up to the tight bud mound of her breast as his lips reached her lower belly. His fingers clenched at her hips, a groan rumbling in his throat as she found her nipple with her fingers, pinched it, rolling it delicately as several panting cries left her lips.
His lips brushed against a hip bone, went lower, moved in closer, until they were poised over the straining bud of her clit. Glistening with moisture, swollen, peeking past the folds of her pussy, the little bundle of nerves begged for his touch.
Cami could only watch.
Just watch. And wait in agonized anticipation for the touch of his wicked mouth.
His tongue licked over the slick, bare flesh of her pussy. If they ever had a next time, then she would pay him back for the weakness invading her limbs and the lack of control she had over the hunger tormenting her.
“What are you waiting for?” She moaned, prepared to beg if that was what he wanted, demanded that she do.
“What do you want?” His tongue peeked out, touched his bottom lip, then retreated back inside his mouth teasingly. It was his tongue, his lips, his hungry suckling mouth on her clit that she was dying for.
“Your tongue.” He knew exactly what she wanted. “Your lips,” she all but begged. “Your tongue. Suck my pussy, Rafer.” Her free hand was in his hair and she had no idea how it made it there. “Lick it all over like you promised.”