Blood Wicked by Sharon Page

sensation, dazzling sensation, rushed through her. She gasped. In shock. In astonishment at the pleasure. He didn’t try to penetrate, he just stroked her.
    She’d never let anyone touch her like that. It felt so amazingly good.
    And pain vanished.
    He slid two fingers into her cunny, while his tongue made mind-numbing spirals over her clit. Her passage clutched and squeezed as though begging for his cock. She’d never been so wet. She’d never felt so empty inside.
    She needed him. Ached for him.
    She was wantonly grinding her face on him. She stopped. She must be hurting him.
    But his hand tightened across the cheeks of her rump, pulling her tighter to his face. He must like her being rough. He clamped her so her cunny was pressed tight to his mouth. His fingers slid out of her quim, but his index finger still played merry havoc with her tense, aroused anus.
    It was so good. She’d forgotten pain. And warmth blossomed inside her. Warmth fired by the intense heat in her quim, the heat of Heath’s hands on her bared bottom, the heat of his breath blowing across her most intimate place, and the slick fire of his tongue licking her.
    His every caress felt intense, as though she’d never been touched before. Certainly no one had ever licked her quim while dallying with her bottom. Then, to her shock, he slid his finger slightly inside her rear. Withdrew. Did it again.
    Her body resisted. But she liked it, and that resistance made it all the more thrilling.
    Then he did everything to her at once. He flicked her clit with his tongue, slid two fingers inside her hot quim, and pushed two fingers inside her welcoming bottom. A scandalous two in a place she’d never allowed a man to touch her. Never had she guessed it would feel so good. His fingers in her quim made her rump feel so tight, and his fingers filling her derriere made her cunny so wonderfully full.
    It was too much. So much pleasure, racing from everywhere at once.
    Her body went off as though he’d touched a trigger. She came. Exploded. Her cries rang up to the ceiling, and she rocked madly on him. He held her while she went wild upon him. Moans filled the room—her moans, as her orgasm kept exploding inside her. It seemed it was never going to stop.
    He kept licking her. Taking her beyond what she’d ever known before. It was delicious. Unbearably thrilling. Rather … frightening.
    She’d never come without it being at her touch. She aloneknew how to pleasure herself to make herself climax, and even with a protector, she would cleverly touch herself to find her pleasure.
    Heath had stripped her control away. And coming that way, with it being entirely at his touch and his command had been … exhilarating.
    The pleasure was fading. And she was still on top of him. She stretched her hands, her toes, stretched languorously and squirmed and moaned in delight.
    He lifted her and set her back across his shoulders. “How do you feel, love?”
    She gazed down at him. His lips and cheeks glistened slightly in the lamplight. Heavens, her juices coated his mouth and chin. He licked his lower lip, smiling cheekily, tasting her.
    “Good,” she managed to whisper.
    “No pain?”
    “Heavens no.” And she realized. “No. I’m not cold—” An agonizing pain spiked through her heart. She clutched her chest. Collapsed on him.
    Through the roaring in her ears, she dimly heard his voice.
    “Damn, it wasn’t enough. But I can’t do it, Vivienne. I can’t put my cock inside you.” His voice was hoarse and she whimpered. The pain had doubled. She had curled into a ball on top of him.
    “I can do everything else,” he whispered. “Anything else we can imagine.”
    She felt the thud of his heart. How she could feel it so acutely, she didn’t know. She was half draped over his hips, her belly pressed to his long, hard erection. Some instinct drove her to rise on him. To slide her hands over the powerful muscles of his chest. Then go lower, over the hard plane that