He pulled her closer to him and held her tight. She heard his breath fill the space above her shoulder by her ear. “I will not simply be done with this. I do not intend to rush. Tell me what happened that you are suddenly shy again.”
“I can’t,” she croaked, fighting back a sob.
“Did I do something you did not like?”
“No.”
“Am I moving too fast?”
In her opinion he was moving too slow. Silus had never taken this long. She shook her head.
“I know it is uncomfortable for you to discuss such things, but I cannot make it better if you do not talk to me.”
She turned her head away in shame. “I am…” Tears choked her. In a hoarse whisper, she confessed, “I am wet.”
He stilled above her. He was surely repulsed. When he still did not say anything after several minutes, she turned and peeked at him through her lashes. When she saw him pressing his lips tightly together as if trying not to laugh at her, she scoffed and frantically began to push at his chest. “You…you are laughing at me!”
“No.” He sobered and gazed down at her. Apologetically he said, “I am not laughing at you, bellissima. I am laughing at my own inability to explain the laws of nature to you. I am sorry. Please do not think I am laughing at you.”
Her feelings were hurt. Her pride stung. Why were relations so humiliating? She pressed at his chest once more, but he only settled more of his weight over her, stilling her protests. He watched her, waiting for her to calm herself. When she relaxed he placed a chaste kiss upon her lips and quickly shifted his position. Before she understood what he was doing, he was over her, his long legs trapping her bare ones.
Her arms were bent to her chest and wedged between them. She felt his maleness pressing into her hip, yet he would not be able to enter her with their legs entwined the way they were.
“Your body’s reaction is natural, Larissa. Do you feel how the more I touch you, the harder my body becomes?” He pressed his hardness into her hip and she gasped. “That is the natural response of an aroused male. Females are different. Females are a soft place for our hardness. When I enter you, you must be prepared for me so that I do not hurt you. Your body knows this. Like a flower instinctively produces nectar to attract bees, a female’s body produces nectar as well.”
She had never heard of such a thing. She was about to argue as much when he suddenly said, “Let me show you.”
He sat back and she suddenly felt exposed. She covered her breasts self-consciously. He scooted down her body and her gaze caught on the bulge behind the snap of his pants. She gasped and quickly turned her head.
He laughed softly. “It’s okay. You may look at me.”
Slowly she turned back to face him. His body was so much larger than it appeared beneath his clothing. His arms were enormous, bulging with swells of muscle under smooth, tanned skin. The lower portions of his arms were covered with dark, wiry hair. The same dark hair formed a line down the center of his abdomen. Unlike her soft belly, his was rigid with muscle. His chest was wide and firm. Where her breast had small, pink peaks intended for nursing young, his chest had flat, dark buds. She wondered why a male would have such parts.
Her eyes traveled lower. His belly button was covered with wiry fuzz that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. When her gaze touched on the bulge there, she jerked her gaze away again.
“Have you ever seen a male, Larissa?”
“You forget I was married for a year, Bishop.”
“I forget nothing. Now answer my question. Have you ever seen a male, actually looked at him?”
Her cheeks burned. “No.”
“Would you like to?”
“No!” How could he ask such a thing?
“Fair enough,” he chuckled. Did he think she was some sort of deviant? “Now, as I was saying. A female is like a flower. She is pleasing to look at, her fragrance is enticing, and she is soft and delicate, and often coveted for her beauty. There is a theory that if you sing to a flower, it will bloom, but if you do not love it properly, it will wilt. When we make love, our bodies are singing to each other.”
He slowly pulled her arms away from her chest and pressed them out to her sides. “We will call these your buds.” He cupped her breasts and trailed his thumb over each pink tip, causing the skin there to pucker once more. He leaned down and pulled one pink bud between his lips. Heat from his mouth spread over the tip and her body arched. He leaned back. “Beautiful.”
She watched him silently as he leaned down and repeated the same attention to her other breast. He suckled her and her body tightened. The fire that had burned low in her belly came blazing back to life. He stared back at her with half-lidded eyes as he continued to pluck at her buds with his mouth. She yipped when he nipped at the sensitive tip and he smiled, showing her that he held her flesh tightly between his teeth.
She sucked in a breath and he released the tip then licked over the abused point. He sat back on his legs again and she waited. Her chest rose and fell as her breath came quickly. He had left her skin damp where his mouth had been and the cool air sent chills shivering up her arms.
He scooted lower and pulled her feet apart so that he could sit between them without crushing her. She kept her knees firmly closed. He reached forward and feathered the edge of his thumb through her soft curls. “This is where you are most like a flower.” Without forcing his way between her thighs he simply ran his fingers up and down over her thighs. With each gentle stroke, she felt herself relax a bit more.
“When your body opens to me, it will be like a rose beginning to bloom. Soft and delicate, your petals will flower apart and that is where I will find your nectar. And deep inside of your petals is a hidden bud designed to make you weep with pleasure.”
She sucked in a breath and held it as he leaned down to her belly and placed a kiss on the arch of her hip. Dragging his tongue across her lower belly, he found her other hip and kissed her there as well.
“Will you allow me to touch you there, Larissa? I promise to be gentle.” When she didn’t answer, could not answer, he said, “How about you shake your head no if you do not want my touch there and I will stop.”
She could not tell him no. It was against her nature to do so. She also was not sure she wanted to say no. She remained completely still, careful not to shake her head in the least.
He slowly began to draw her legs apart. Her limbs felt slightly stiff and trembled uncontrollably. He looked at her there and her chest constricted, finding his acute appraisal difficult to endure. He dragged the back of his fingers through her dark curls and she gasped when she saw evidence of her dampness there.
“Shh, remember what I said. It is natural for a female to become wet. It tells me your body is enjoying my touch. You are beautiful here. Your petals are pink just like your nipples, the same dark rose as your lips, glistening with nectar.” He lowered his hand and she lost sight of his fingers. She stiffened as she felt them petting her folds.
“Relax, my love. Gentle.”
As he continued to move his fingers over her folds, she felt herself open for him. It was as he described it, a flower beginning to bloom. He settled more between her legs and used his other hand to press her knees farther apart. She had never felt so exposed in all of her life. Her heart was racing incredibly fast.
Suddenly she felt his finger swirl at her opening, spreading her nectar over her petals. She cried out at the light intrusion, not expecting the contact. Before she could pull her knees together, he placed a staying hand on her thigh and drove one long finger deep inside of her and held it there.
“Feel how your body accepts me?” he asked, his voice hoarse and strained. “The more aroused you become”—he swallowed—“the more your sex weeps.” He pulled his finger out and she moaned as he pressed it back inside, slightly deeper. He repeated the motion several times, each time drawing her nectar out a bit more and slicking his way back in. He was mimicking the rhythm of mati
ng. Why would he use his finger rather than his maleness?
Her body tightened when he pressed back inside and somehow she was fuller than before. The intrusion caused her to grumble softly and he looked at her. “I am stretching you. You will become accustomed to it, just be patient.”
Eleazar continued to press in and out of her. The more he invaded her, the tighter the knots inside of her pulled. With each retreat of his hand, a small tug pulled at her belly, tickling some unnamable part of her. She wanted to identify that part and press against it, but it remained elusive, nothing more than a phantom sensation she could not reach.
She licked at her dry lips and began to breathe through her mouth. It was as if she could not take in enough oxygen.
“Does it feel good, Larissa?”
Unable to answer, she tilted her head back and pressed into his hand. She could feel her moisture trickling down her soft flesh, but tried not to think about that. She needed—she didn’t know what—something. Her eyes closed as she arched farther into his caress. He shifted, but she could no longer watch him, it had become too difficult to keep her eyes open. He settled into a different position, his fingers still pumping into her core, but from a slightly different angle.
His warm, hard flesh nudged her legs wider apart and suddenly her body felt hollow, his fingers completely gone. She whimpered, but before she could sit up, his hands returned. Rather than entering her, they rested over the inner creases of her thighs and gently separated her petals. What she felt next she was not prepared for.
Her spine stiffened and she cried out as he kissed her there. Positive that such a thing was wrong, she began to squirm out from under his hold. His arms wrapped around her thighs and held her in place as he whispered words instructing her to be calm. She could not allow him to do such things to her.
“Bishop—” He nipped at her thigh and she yipped. Then his mouth was back to kissing the petals of her sex. “Eleazar, please—” His tongue penetrated her much like a male’s shaft only softer. He was lifting her bottom to his mouth and feasting on her. She had to stop him. Nothing that felt this decadent could be good.
And then suddenly everything shifted. His mouth latched on to that secret place she could not locate. He pulled at the bud and flicked his tongue over the sensitive point. Larissa shouted and every knot that had been slowly weaving together suddenly slipped tighter than a hangman’s noose. She dragged in deep gulps of air as her body drew tighter than a bow. She could not control her movements.
She practically thrashed out of his hold, but he would not release her. His mouth only tightened over that incredibly sensitive spot. His arm slid from over her thigh and reached under her to where his mouth kissed, licked, and sucked at her flesh. When he pressed his fingers into her sex, he was not gentle, but seemed to know exactly what her body needed.
His mouth tugged at that bundle of nerves and his fingers rapidly pumped in and out of her. Repetitive cries filled the room with each thrust of his fingers and Larissa realized the cries were coming from her. He suddenly lowered her bottom to the bed, but never lifted his mouth from her. The new position somehow allowed him to reach even deeper within her core. His fingers began to press firmly inside of her channel as if searching for something. His other hand found her breast and pinched the tip, shooting a bolt of fire through her belly.
His fingers brushed over a soft spot deep inside of her and her body jolted at the contact. She could not keep still. It was all too much. The hand that had been playing with her breasts slid to the space just below her belly button. As his mouth sucked ruthlessly on her oversensitive flesh, his palm spread across her belly and held her in place. She shouted words that made no sense and his finger, deep inside of her, curved and pressed firmly into that soft spot. She felt as if she was being pinched from the inside out and that was when she shattered.
She screamed as her muscles locked and her limbs began to tremble uncontrollably. She felt a release somewhere inside of her and all of that fire seemed to transform in to liquid heat and burn through her veins. By the time her tremors subsided to sporadic pulses and twitches, she was sobbing. Truly sobbing.
Eleazar kissed her thigh and pulled her into his arms. He rocked her as she cried. She wasn’t quite sure why she was crying, she only knew that she could not seem to stop. The bishop held her tightly to his chest and smoothed her damp hair away from her face, placing gentle kisses upon her temple. He made promises that everything would be all right and told her that she was the most beautiful female he had ever known. All of his kind words and gestures only made her cry more. It seemed she was not programmed for such kindness.
Something warm began to spread through her chest. Her heart quickened and while the emotion was very comforting, it was also incredibly frightening. At first she didn’t recognize it. It was different than what she felt for her parents and siblings, but still somehow the same. Once she identified the emotion, she forced her cries to quiet down, afraid she would somehow speak her revelation and spoil everything. She pressed her lips tightly together as if she could trap her secret inside. It was hers and she savored it. For in his own patient way, he had showed her she was not broken, and Larissa knew in that moment that she had fallen a little bit in love with Eleazar King.
Chapter 18
He loved her. There was no doubt in his mind that he loved her. He loved her courage. He loved her softness. He loved her vulnerability. He loved her innocence. He loved her stubborn pride. He loved everything about her. He only hoped that he could somehow earn her love in return. He silently vowed to always do right by her and protect her so that she never lost the innocence she so humbly shared with him.
He held her close as her sobs subsided. He knew she was not distraught, but rather overwhelmed. She had gone to pieces in his arms and he had never seen anything so beautiful in all of his five hundred and twenty-six years.
His body was suspended in a place of agonizing need and emotional bliss. He wanted to claim her completely, make her irrevocably his, yet he needed to pace himself. She was incredibly vulnerable at the moment and he needed to bring her back to earth slowly.
She shivered in his arms. Eleazar reached for the sheet at the foot of the bed and carefully drew it over her. He shifted and laid her back on the bed, coming down gently beside her and pulling her close.
She looked up at him with those diamond eyes shining in the darkness like two silver moons. He had not been prepared to experience her pleasure with her, yet that seemed to be the case. Every caress, every flick of his tongue, touched his body as if it were she doing such things to him. He had never heard of mates sharing such sensations. Yet it seemed the more effort he placed into her pleasure, the more he felt. It was as if she somehow reflected everything he gave her right back to him.
He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her nose. Her lips trembled but slowly formed a tentative smile.
“You take my breath away, Larissa.”
She blushed at his words and lowered her gaze. Although she said nothing, she gently laid a hand over his heart and he felt her sentiment more than any words could have described. He placed his large hand over her small hand and gave her an affectionate squeeze. It was the first time she had voluntarily touched him and he feared she would remove the contact too soon.
Her eyes wandered over him and he remained still as she looked her fill. She tentatively touched his lips, running a delicate finger over his lower one, testing its softness. Her fingers explored his hair and traced his eyebrows.
“I expected every part of you to be hard as stone, yet you have soft spots, too,” she whispered.
He would wait to inform her that certain parts of him were hard enough to shatter stone. Her fingers trailed down his throat and she shyly pulled the sheet back. He smirked at the way she managed to keep her own body covered while exposing his. Eleazar rolled to his back and breathed in deeply as she continued to touch him.
Her touch was light, her fingers cool a
nd smooth. She drew circles around his nipples with her nails and the dark flesh there pulled tight. “Why do you have these?”
“I beg your pardon?”
She flicked his nipple lightly with her thumb and he felt a jolt of pleasure race down his spine and directly to his shaft. “Your…buds. Why do males have them? You cannot nurse young.”
“I suppose men have nipples for pleasure.”
“You can have pleasure here?”
He smiled at her curiosity. Her fingers continued to tease and his body gloried in her touch. “Yes, just as you can.”
She frowned, her brow creasing into delicate lines. “Do females…are females expected to kiss a male there like a male kisses a female?”
“No, not expected. I suppose it is up to the female. If she wants to kiss a male there and if he finds pleasure in the gesture, then it is acceptable. Every individual has different tastes and preferences.”
She thought about that for a moment then asked, “Would it please you if I were to kiss you there?”
“Larissa, anywhere you kissed me I would find pleasing.”
He was stunned by her boldness as she slowly leaned over him and licked at his nipple. He groaned at the sight and feeling of her little, pink tongue skimming over his flesh and she smiled. Looking back into his eyes as if seeing if what she was doing was all right, she slowly moved over him and kissed his other nipple. Her hair formed a curtain between them and he gently gathered it in his hand and lifted it out of the way.
When her mouth latched onto the tiny, pebbled tip of his nipple, his cock twitched and he growled. She was making him crazy. Her hand slowly coasted over his shoulder and gripped his neck. She scattered kisses up his chest and to his throat. When she was only a breadth away from his mouth, she whispered, “I have decided I enjoy kisses.”
He grabbed for her and pulled her mouth to his. He kissed her properly and to his delight, she kissed him right back. When they pulled apart, her lips were again swollen and wet. She rested her head on his shoulder and he found comfort in simply touching her hair as she lay there.
Calling for a Miracle [The Order of Vampyres 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 20
