“You need not fight it,” she spoke in a sultry whisper. “I wish you to take your pleasure from me.”
Suppressing a groan, he closed his hand over hers, freeing it from his phallus. “After all I have said to you, is this all you think I desire? For you to service me like…like a …”
A look of pain flashed in her eyes. “You do not enjoy such pleasures? In my experience it is what all men most desire.”
“I am not other men,” he growled, “and I don’t want you to think of me in that way. I thought… Bloody hell! Am I just like them to you? Do you feel nothing more for me? I need to know, Salime, do you really desire me? Or do you only act out of your obligation to DeVere—”
Although she’d been with many men, none but Simon had ever inspired her desire. How could he not know this? She longed to feel his kisses, to see passion blazing in his eyes as he moved inside her.
She cut him off, bringing his hand to her breast and placing it over her heart. Rising on her toes, she whispered against his lips, “Can you not tell when a woman’s desire is real? Do you not feel this beneath your hand? It gallops.” She slid their joined hands to the center of her chest. “And my lungs struggle to catch up with my racing heart.”
He drew in a sharp breath when she moved still lower, guiding his hand over the plane of her belly… and lower yet, sucking in a breath with a guttural sound, when she stopped at the apex of her thighs. It was a heady thing, how powerfully the simplest touch affected him.
She pressed his palm into her mons. “And this? Do you not feel the wetness weeping from my womanhood? Do you not know this sign? I burn for you, Simon. Only for you.”
His grey eyes had grown almost black. Almost instantly he cupped her nape, claiming and branding her with a new urgency she was helpless to resist. His hands were everywhere, mapping her body, caressing her breasts, cupping her arse, sliding between her legs, while mercilessly marauding her mouth. She dug her fingers into his hair, grinding against him with aching loins. The friction of his engorged sex sent shocks of pleasure to her core.
She cried out. He swallowed the sound with his own hoarse moan, lifting her against his tumescent sex. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, and he carried her to her bed, where they tumbled headlong onto it. Limbs tangled, bodies sliding, they reveled in slick friction, and plummeted deeper into pleasure. He rolled on top of her, caging her with his hard and hot body. Bringing one hand between them, he positioned his hard member into her folds, rocking his hips slowly, coating himself in her juices. His cadence increased, his hips thrusting, his thumb circling and massaging her hooded bud. His mouth came down on her neck, sucking and biting, his breath hot and humid on her skin.
“I want to watch your eyes when I plunge into you, Salime. After that, I want to take you like the heathens and in every conceivable way. Salime… Salime,” he murmured her name. Seductive and hypnotic, it fell from his lips. “I’ve never wanted a woman as I want you.”
The symphony of sensation created by his hands, his mouth, his sex against hers, was exquisite. Mind-numbing, but it was still not enough. The emptiness was excruciating, the ache agonizing.
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked. “Still so many words? You talk too mu—”
She gasped as he pierced her, impaling himself deeply inside her in one smooth, hard thrust, but the moment he breached her, he stilled with a long hissing breath.
“Shall I milk you with my kilif, Simon?” She punctuated the question with a tiny squeeze of her inner walls that sent a ripple through the body beneath her hands. “Where I come from, the most expert of women can bring a man to completion by milking his kamış with her kilif alone. I have mastered this skill. Shall I show you?”
“Please don’t.” He hovered over her, hard and tense with his head thrown back, the veins standing out in his neck. “You must give me a moment…the sensation….”
Gritting his teeth, Simon partly withdrew then drove back into her again, stopping once more with a muffled curse. His eyes squeezed shut, and his body strained against itself. His face was drawn, and his body shone with sweat.
She moaned, basking in the ricochet of ripples created by his pulsing length. Resisting the powerful urge to move against him, she stroked his broad back and caressed his taut buttocks.
“Simon, if you are still concerned about—”
“Damn it! You will not take the lead in this again.”
“You are angry with me?”
“No, Salime.” He shook his head. “But please let me take this at my own pace …and in my own way. What kind of man would I be if I cannot even control—”
“You need not be ashamed,” Salime interjected softly. “It is what I want—for you to give me your boşalma, your release. After this you will be relaxed. And then once you have recovered,” she smiled. “We shall begin again.”
Good God! How much could a mortal man take?
She was his heaven. His hell. And everything in between.
He surrendered with a guttural sound, thrusting into her. Hard. Deep. She clutched his buttocks tightly, bucking her hips in counterpoint to his every thrust. Once. Twice. Thrice. His sac tightened. His eyes fluttered. He cried out long and loud, his body racking with tremors as he spent infinite streams of hot seed inside her.
Simon collapsed on the bed with his hand over his face, wallowing in his ineptitude. Even after six years of agonizing abstinence—of fruitless fantasizing, Simon’s greatest desire had been to ensure her pleasure before taking his own. He’d once prided himself on being a considerate and attentive lover. Now this?
“Please believe that was not how I wished to comport myself.”
“It was only because you think too much. Now you are relaxed and I can show you ways to make it last—”
“—for endless hours?” he finished with a dry laugh. “I think your expectations might fall a bit short, considering I barely made it thirty seconds.”
“Do not torture yourself over this. If you will trust me…”
“Yes, Salime,” he sighed. “I’ll do anything you want. I’m your bloody slave.”
“Good.” She returned a sly smile.
After a moment, she climbed on top of him, straddling his belly, and dipping her head for a slow and lingering kiss, a kiss meant to re-stoke the lust that still smoldered in his loins. He was surrounded by a curtain of dark silky hair that caressed and tickled his skin as she worked her way down his body with hot biting kisses and long lush swipes of her tongue. She lingered at his nipples, circling and suckling, slowly blazing a trail to his sex. To his profound relief, he was hard again in seconds.
She clasped his rod with deft fingers, stroking him with a smile. “You are exceedingly virile to be ready so quickly.”
Her words of praise made him bloom to full length.
Guiding his rigid length into the cleft between her thighs, she inebriated his senses with hot slick friction, gripping his head, circling it at her entrance, tempting, teasing, turning his mind into a muddled morass of lust. Primed and nearly panting in his need to penetrate her, he gripped her hips hard, urging her downward onto his shaft.
She resisted with a taunting chuckle. “You wish me to ride you like a stallion? I know a better way.” She pivoted on top of him, drawing out his torment with exaggerated movements, arching her back until her sleek and shiny hair caressed the dimples of her arse. She leaned forward to grip his ankles and with excruciating deliberation, lowered herself onto his shaft.
Simon stifled a moan at the simultaneous sight and sensation of his prick piercing her body. She was wet and tight. Her sheath gripped him like a vice, pulsing and squeezing with sweet agony. Lost in a helpless haze of intoxication, he watched her take him inside, and then release him again with slow and steady undulations. It was the most erotic vision he’d ever imagined. It was her dance of seduction all over again with her every movement designed to ratchet his need. He was quickly reaching the point of no return.
“En
ough, Salime! If it bloody kills me, I will not spend again until you come.”
“As you wish.” Almost immediately he felt the pressure of her fingers in the smooth space behind his sac and within seconds, the frenzy of his need subsided. Simon exhaled a long gush. Once more she had taken him to the edge of ecstasy only to ease him back again.
She glanced over her shoulder, explaining, “This is one of the secrets to protracting pleasure. Each time it is done, it only heightens the intensity of the boşalma.”
Simon understood what she had done and why, but rather than gratitude, he felt only growing frustration. The woman he wanted most to please had once more taken charge in her cool and detached manner. Damn it all! Was he now so inept that he could no longer invoke mindless passion in a woman?
“Turn around, Salime,” he said.
“But then I cannot do this for you—”
“I want you to turn around. Now.” He gripped her hips again, guiding her off his body, ignoring the bereft feeling as he slid from her sheath.
“What is wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing and everything,” he said. “I won’t have you like this. You go through the motions of love-making as if you are an automaton. It’s not enough for me.”
Her mouth quivered. “I do not please you?”
“God no! It’s not that.” He cupped her face between both hands. “It’s just my pride can’t endure it if you do not burn for me as I do for you.”
“But I do find pleasure in our joining,” she insisted.
“No, Salime.” He shook his head with a dry laugh. “Please believe that I know the difference. I have not forgotten either the look or the sounds of a woman who is pleased with her lover. I need to know I am still capable of this. No, my dear, this time must be for you. And only for you.”
“I do not understand what you want from me—”
“Nothing,” he answered darkly. “It is true that you have many secrets, my love, but after a long and thorough study of women, perhaps I have a few of my own.”
Hungry. Predatorial. Salime could almost feel his gaze devouring her by pieces. His commanding manner made her breathless. His promise made her body thrum with anticipation, with desire. This man was not the Simon she knew.
“Please don’t refuse me.” His voice rumbled in her ear, sending a tiny shiver down her spine.
She trembled at the first feathery contact of his fingers caressing her cheek, his moist, hot breath, as he nuzzled his face into her hair. “What is your answer, my love?” He brushed his thumb lightly over her mouth.
“Yes, Simon. I will do whatever you wish.” She tilted her head and parted her lips, but he denied her the kiss. What was he about? What game did he play?
She grew increasingly breathless as he stroked the backs of his fingers over the length of her neck. His lips followed, lingering at the sensitive spot between her collarbones. Warm, wet flicks of his tongue caused an equally warm and wet gush between her thighs.
He moved on to her breasts, caressing the undersides and then cupping her mounds of flesh then strumming her nipples. Reveling in his touch, she arched her back, nestling into his caress like a purring cat. As if in answer to her invitation, his hot mouth descended, rooting from side to side, licking…kissing…biting her breasts. She sucked in a sharp breath and then whimpered for more. He drew one aching nipple into his mouth, suckling hard before moving to the other. The sharp nip of his teeth made her cry out.
She reached for him, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling him harder into her breasts. “Please. Don’t stop.”
He released her nipple abruptly. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear,” he softly rebuked. “I want you to do nothing, Salime. Put both arms over your head and keep them there. If you can’t refrain from touching me, I will remove the temptation.”
“What do you mean? You would bind me?” Until now, she had always been in control. Suddenly, he would take that away from her. Panic squeezed her chest.
“Only if need be,” he said, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. “I intend to explore every inch of you before I am finished, and you have agreed to let me. But perhaps I shall now work my way up instead of down.” Starting at the space between her collarbones, he stroked a solitary finger down the middle of her chest, running it under the curve of each breast, and then down to circle her navel. It was a gossamer touch that teased and promised decadent delights.
It was nothing…and it was everything.
Her sex already throbbed like a beating heart, but his words spiked her fever another hundred degrees.
Although he could have slaked his lust like any other man before him, it seemed Simon was bent on a slow seduction. The realization that he intended to use anticipation to heighten her arousal and her pleasure, sent a new wave of desire, pulsing thick and heavy through her veins.
“I’ve discovered numerous places where women feel intense pleasure. Every woman has sweet and unexplored spots that men neglect. I want to discover all of yours, Salime. I want to make you mindless with pleasure.”
His gaze never leaving hers, he grazed his finger gently over the cleft of her vulva.
She drew in a sharp breath but blew it back out in a disappointed huff when he skirted deliberately lower. Instead, a lone finger blazed a heated trail along the inside of her right thigh, firing a path of gooseflesh in its wake.
He knelt at her feet, raising her leg to rest on his shoulder.
“The feet and ankles are often exceedingly sensitive and sadly overlooked.” He rubbed his lightly bristled cheek against her foot and then followed with a slow scrape of his teeth against her instep.
Her foot! He was kissing her foot—a place of defilement! No man had ever done such a thing. It was all too much. “This is not fitting!” She tried to jerk it away.
He held it firm. His unexpected chuckle filled her ears, sending a warm and rumbling reverberation through her body. Ignoring her protests, his hot tongue laved her ankle, and then he nipped her Achilles tendon, shocking her with a jolt of sensation that made her inner flesh flutter.
She gasped. He knew exactly what he was about.
Simon next explored her legs with hot open-mouthed kisses and tantalizing flicks of his tongue, lingering, nibbling, and licking the sensitive place behind her knee. Every stroke of his velvet tongue felt like a touch to her throbbing core. She was ready to climb out of her skin.
He worked his way up her body until both thighs rested on his shoulders, a position that exposed her womanhood completely to his gaze. She’d never felt more vulnerable. When he refused to release her foot, she squeezed her legs together, but the pressure only heightened the pulsing between her thighs.
“Why do you do this?” Her nerves were stretched so taut she whimpered. “Please stop. I cannot do this.” Her legs tensed, squeezing against his shoulders.
Simon’s slate-colored eyes met hers. “Didn’t you agree to do as I wish?”
“Yes, but this is—”
“What I want, Salime. My desire is to make your pleasure mine.” His expression hardened. “Close. Your. Eyes, Salime,” he commanded, kissing one thigh, then the other. Every nerve ending prickled with awareness as his mouth moved mercilessly closer to her womanhood.
Alternating between kissing and licking, Simon nuzzled between her thighs, aching with the overpowering hunger to smell her…to taste her. He pressed her legs gently apart until her sex unfurled to his view. It had been so long, so bloody long, since he’d been this intimate with a woman.
She was bare and delicate as a hothouse orchid and glistening with the evidence of her desire. His nostrils quivered with the sweet scents of jasmine and Salime. Raw lust sluiced through him on a dizzying wave.
Shutting his eyes, he inhaled her musky perfume, filling his lungs with her. He’d sworn to make her forget every man who had come before. It was past time to make good on the promise.
Before she could sound another protest, he gripped her thighs against his shoulders, then p
lied his mouth to her sex, moaning in ecstasy at the first taste of her tangy essence. She gasped as he traced her delicate inner folds with long slow swipes of his tongue, returning to circle her bud and then repeating again with quick flicks and darts.
She writhed restlessly, bucking against his mouth with strangled sounds, undulating as he kissed, licked, and sucked her without mercy. Releasing one hand, he slid it slowly down her thigh, probing her entrance even as he devoured her with his mouth. So slick. So hot. So sweet. He plunged his fingers into her with a moan that mingled with hers, immersing himself in her sultry sighs, gasping breaths, and soft whimpers—the resonance of rapture. Finally, her climax was his to command.
“Please,” she cried, her head thrashing from side to side, her body begging for more even as she pleaded for him to stop. Her fingers tore through his hair, digging painfully into his scalp as she writhed against his mouth.
“You are mine now, Salime,” he murmured low and dark. “And I have a promise to keep.”
He intensified the rhythm of thrusting fingers and lashing tongue until a shrill scream tore from her. Her eyes flew open, locking with his as her body seized, quaking in long, powerful, orgasmic waves.
Simon could not tear his gaze from her face. The intensity of her climax had almost been his undoing. Her lips were slightly parted and wore a red mark where she had bitten them. The seconds lengthened into minutes until the dazed look passed from her face. Pulling her into his arms, she wrapped her arms around his neck with the soft sigh of a sated lover.
Salime found herself wrapped in Simon’s arms, limp and spent. Of all things she could have imagined, this was the very last—to lose herself in the most exquisite of kisses. His mouth on her sex had done wicked and magical things, firing the heat that smoldered low in her belly and sending countless waves rippling through her body.
In all of her years as a courtesan, she’d never surrendered herself completely to a man and had never experienced the rapture of such a surrender. They’d only been interested in taking their pleasure. None had ever cared about hers.
Romantic Legends Page 92
