Desire Me More by Tiffany Clare Page B

She waited for what felt like forever as his steely length remained still, and her body adjusted to his heavy girth.
    â€œShh,” he whispered next to her ear, sucking her earlobe between his teeth. “The pain will ebb. I promise.”
    â€œIt doesn’t hurt . . . not really. It’s . . . I can’t describe it.”
    His lips trailed over her shoulder, across her back, and stopped at the little bone at the base of her neck. “Relax.”
    Lost in the way his lips trailed over her, she was left breathless when he pulled out, only to push back inside her, his pace careful but no less titillating. The slowness was soon a torture in and of itself, and she had to move with him, against him, forward and back. Nick let her move with abandon until her body couldn’t keep up with what her heart wanted; her actions grew jerky and erratic. Nick was on his knees behind her, grasping her hips tight, sliding her along his hard length.
    Setting a steady pace, he slipped one hand between the folds of her sex again and rubbed her clitoris in hard, even strokes. She unfurled her hands, pressing one palm against his lower abdomen with each plunge forward. His fingers were like magic, building a firestorm in her so high that she was sure she would combust at any moment.
    The way he hit her inside only heightened each sensation, drawing her closer to a finale she knew would trump anything she’d ever felt. Her heart skittered and raced; each of his propulsions forward had moans slipping past her lips. His fingers drew on her harder, pulling at the swollen nub between the lips of her sex.
    And she begged. “Nick, don’t stop. Don’t stop. Please. I need to finish. I need you so badly. Please. Please . . . ”
    â€œMy minx likes to beg when I’m so close to giving her what she wants.”
    â€œI need this.”
    â€œAnd I will give it to you.”
    He scissored his fingers, sliding them around her clitoris. She cried out his name once more as she flew over the edge and straight into pure ecstasy. She felt impossibly tight, impossibly good. Impossibly free. As her body clenched and released, her cream ran down her thighs with each movement of his hand, each propulsion of his cock in that forbidden place.
    Nick shouted, and a second later she felt the pump of his seed deep inside her. He felt so different this way. It was as though she could feel more of him, every twitch, every slide like a thousand hands running over her body in unison. Nick’s movements slowed, his body collapsed on top of hers, his hardness diminishing only slightly.
    They didn’t say anything for some minutes. When their breathing evened out, Amelia spoke first. “The way you make me feel . . . that scares me about us.”
    Nick’s hand came down to rest near her head. The motion brought him completely out of her bottom, and she exhaled a small sound of relief but felt a twinge of regret at the same time. How could she want that ?
    â€œHearing that makes me feel like a monster.”
    â€œI don’t mean it that way. I just . . . I don’t know who I am without you anymore. Untie me, Nick. Please. I need to touch you.”
    He sat up on his knees and unwound the material binding her wrists together. Her hands throbbed when they fell forward. Nick flipped her onto her back and rubbed her wrists between his hands.
    â€œForgive me,” he said quietly.
    Placing one hand along his jaw, she waited for him to focus on her eyes. “I trust you, Nick. I just need to take this slow. You make me feel things that cause me a great deal of guilt.”
    â€œThere is nothing wrong with anything we do. Nothing to feel guilty about.”
    â€œYou’ll think me a ninny, but I want to see you and look in your eyes when you want something new. I want to touch you. I feel bereft, having that sense taken away from me.”
    His thumb lazily circled one of her wrists, drawing the numbness out.