Fly with Me (30 page)

Those
dexterous fingers trailed around the sides of her breasts, traced
the rounded contours, slid to her nipples, and then stopped. Oh
God, it felt like the tips of her nipples were on fire, the little
buds straining demandingly to the lightest touch of his
fingers.

Still he
didn’t release her eyes, the fire in his building, the carnal
desire he felt for her banked with a tenderness that just wrung her
heart.

Doing the
unexpected yet again, he dropped his forehead to hers, bound them
so closely together with the spell of his eyes, holding her in a
soft, floating heat as his palms pressed flat against her breasts,
fingers spreading around the generous globes, just holding her.

Her heart felt
like it was going to hammer clear out of her chest, her breath
stuttering from the sensations sparking out from his hands to fill
her.

He moved
again, slid his cheek against hers, turned so that his mouth was
against her ear, lips lightly tracing the line of her throat to her
shoulder, making her shiver, making her want to tuck her shoulders
up yet arch for him all at once.

His hands
shifted, moved down in perfect symmetry, over her belly, lower,
fingers grazing her mound. In a gentle yet definite demand, his
hand nudged between her thighs and blindly she obeyed, the
sensations he was building inside her making her give herself over
to him.

He felt her
surrender, knew it instantly, taking her mouth in a kiss that was
suddenly, unexpectedly demanding, sweeping away her last
reservations at the same time his hand slid fully between her
thighs, long fingers sliding unerringly between the sheltering lips
of her labia, finding the slickness, pressing up against her
perineum, making her arch up into him, whimpering as sensation
after sensation crashed through her.

He didn’t
hesitate, tipping her back on the bed, following her down before
she could think, his lips finding her nipples, latching on and
sucking, drawing her nerves into deliciously taut strings of
desire.

“Simon,” she
moaned. “Oh God, Simon, please.”

Big hands
caught her hips, fingers curling firmly into her flesh, holding her
still as he shifted to her other breast, caught the little nipple
straining for attention, laved it hard, sucked it firmly, plucked
the strings stretched tight low in her belly.

Twisting her
hands in the sheets, she held on, head arching back as he sucked,
that magical mouth pulling at her breast, sucking her with
constrained power.

He moved
lower, tongue licking down the middle of her, dipping into her
belly button in a wicked, wet lap.

Suddenly she
realised where he was going, what he was doing, and her heart
somersaulted. Almost jerking upright, she began, “Simon, no. Simon,
I can’t-”

“You can.” His
hand spread on her belly prevented her coming up further, making
her rock back down onto her elbows. “You will.” Looking at her from
his position so low down her body, eyes glittering with lust,
desire flooding the hazel irises with heat, his voice was almost
hedonistically guttural.

Gone was the
sweet, laughing, patient man she’d first met, gone was the daring,
challenging man of last night, gone was the wicked amusement. Now
it was pure concupiscence, carnal eroticism. Passion. It oozed from
him, filled his eyes, seemed to seep from his body, slip into her,
spreading heat everywhere he touched, he kissed, he held.

And he did
hold her, captured her with those burning eyes, held her down with
that tall, muscular body, controlled her with those big, firm
hands.

She couldn’t
think, could only swallow, her throat dry, pulses pounding, body
screaming for him, fire dancing along her skin tracing the
tantalizing path he’d licked down her body.

She bit her
lip as he shifted lower, moving almost sinuously, sliding further
down, strong hands urging her thighs apart as he settled between
them, his broad shoulders pushing her so much wider, baring her to
his view.

Baring
everything she had, she was. Christ, she felt like he was consuming
her with his touch, his eyes - and then his mouth.

His head
dropped, fingers gripped her hips as he licked along her hard,
sudden, a swipe of pure possession that had her shuddering, throat
arched.

Elissa had
heard of men giving oral sex. Had heard that some women liked it,
some didn’t. Some men liked to give it, some didn’t. It was
amazing, wonderful, magical.

It was nothing
like this, nothing like her wildest dreams.

So vulnerable,
open to him, dependant on his control of his teeth and tongue,
totally at his mercy, Elissa could only writhe on the bed, arch,
shudder with every swipe of his tongue, every decadent lick, and
when his lips fastened over the little bud previously hidden and
now bared by his gentle ruthlessness, she could only scream his
name as he flicked, sucked, rolled the little bud, massaged it with
his tongue, throwing her over a fiery ridge that threatened to
consume her very soul.

He pushed her
over it, dragged her through it, forced her back panting and almost
crying with sheer ecstasy as he continued to tongue and suck, lick
and lave, her desire warring with frustration when he deliberately
left her shivering once again on that pinnacle.

Half dazed,
trembling, passion’s heat firing along her skin, she watched him
push to his feet and shrug his flannel shirt off followed by the
t-shirt, revealing all those hard muscles that bunched as he moved.
The snap of the button and the sound of the zipper seemed almost
overly loud to her sensitive ears. Thumbs in the waistband of his
jeans, he shoved them down to his ankles, stepped out of them along
with his socks, tossed them aside. When he straightened, her breath
caught.

God, he was so
perfect, all hard lines, bunched muscle, tall and strong, his shaft
hard and curving up against his belly.

Feeling his
gaze, she lifted her eyes to see him looking down at her.

His eyes were
so hot, the desire for her stamped almost harshly on his face. That
he found her desirable was no longer in question. Spread out before
him as she was, she was naked, open, there for him to feast his
eyes on much the same as he’d feasted on her secrets.

Lifting his
hand to his mouth, he ripped the packet open she hadn’t even
noticed him holding. Gripping that hard, thick shaft, he rolled the
condom down the length before he took the step needed to bring him
beside the bed.

“Jesus, Lis,”
he breathed huskily. “You are so beautiful.”

A move, a
shift, muscles bunching and flexing, and his hard body came over
her, covering her, his skin so hot pressing to hers, muscular
thighs sliding between her softer one’s.

There was no
doubting the hard length like a thick brand between them, pressing
urgently against her belly, just as there was no doubting the
hunger with which Simon took her mouth.

He ravaged it,
plundered deep, took everything she had, his hands cupping her
cheeks so that she couldn’t turn from him.

Nothing would
have done that. Elissa kissed him back desperately, wanting him,
wanting everything he had, everything he was, wanting to taste him,
feel him everywhere.

Coming up on
one elbow, Simon looked down, lifting his hips slightly as he slid
his hand between them, slid them once more between the now highly
sensitized labia that he’d awoken with his ministrations.

Unerringly he
found her opening, rubbing it with his finger, teasing the fragile,
moist rim.

“Oh, don’t.”
She almost sobbed it, grabbed his shoulders, pushed her hips into
his hand, seeking so much more. “Do.”

“Don’t?” His
laugh was low, darkly teasing. “Do?”

“Do.” Surging
upward, she pressed her mouth to his, lightly bit his lip, looked
him in the eyes. “Do it. Do me. Do
me
now.”

The hedonistic
burn in his eyes was scorching, his smile so filled with wolfish
heat that she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d bitten her in
passion.

“Oh Lis,” he
growled, “I am going to do you right -” His hips lifted, hard shaft
sliding down her belly, over her mound and down further to where
his finger rested against her opening, “-
now
.”

There was no
niceties, no laziness, no easy entry. A flex of his hips and he
drove inward, drove in deep, hard, fast, lodging high.

She couldn’t
scream, couldn’t cry out, because in a lightning move he fisted his
hand painlessly in her hair, held her still, captured her mouth and
swallowed any sound she made.

Desire like
lightening coursed through her, heart pounding, fire burning along
her veins. Simon started pumping, hips surging, every pump hard and
deliberate, the pace he set one that kept her shattering in tiny
bursts.

He lifted from
her, braced himself on his hands, those lean hips pinning hers in
the bed beneath him. The flex of his biceps and triceps, the shift
of the pectoral muscles in his chest attested to his strength, the
big muscles in his thighs pushing against her inner thighs, the
stark contrast between them just making her so very much aware of
his greater strength, the fact that he could hurt her so
easily.

But he didn’t.
He controlled her, pushed her ruthlessly, pounded into her with a
voracity that was so hungry, so downright carnal that she couldn’t
help but fall into that hot tidal wave of ardour with him, meeting
him thrust for thrust as much as she could, pushing her hips
against his, rewarded by the gleam of satisfaction that filled the
hot depths of his eyes as he looked down at her.

Their gazes
locked, and even in the midst of the pure rut they were in, the
hunger for each other, the heat and slide of their bodies just
pushing their ardour higher, hotter, she knew he was seeing her,
watching her, and God, he was gauging her reactions. In the dim
reaches of her mind, she knew it. Felt him change position slightly
when her breath caught, felt him repeat a movement that spiralled
her nerves into delighted strings of fire, pound into her in that
way that fanned the carnal fires flaring so hedonistically.

Whatever gave
her pleasure he repeated. And whatever gave her pleasure, gave him
pleasure in return, the flush on his cheekbones, the glitter in his
eyes, the wicked, sensual tilt of his lips when she moaned his name
and gripped his arms, her nails digging into his muscles.

It came upon
her, crawled up her in fiery tongues, pin pricks of need that
gouged deeper so erotically.

“Go with me,”
Simon urged her huskily. “Fly with me, Lis. Fly. I won’t let you
fall.
Fly
.”

A change of
angle, one hard thrust, and he nailed her in that magical, hot spot
that threw her out into a glittering space of light and glass,
shattering into a million pieces, out of control as she spun
away.

But even as
she spun out, was thrown so far out she didn’t know if she’d ever
find her way back - and certainly didn’t care - she felt the strong
hips jerk against her, the shaft inside her tunnel deep, her name a
hoarse shout that echoed in her ears, and then the brawny arms that
surrounded her, tucked her close, the heavy weight of a broad chest
as it came down upon her.

Held safe in
that powerful, protective embrace, she flew.

~*~

Simon liked to
snuggle. Liked to curl up with a woman he’d made love to, cuddle
her real close, and relax with her in his arms in an afterglow of
sated, carnal bliss.

Elissa wasn’t
going to cuddle. He could feel it as soon as she tensed beneath
him. As he lifted his head to gaze down at her, those heavy
eyelashes, which he now knew were completely natural, rose to show
light brown eyes filled with, yep, the faint after-glow of great
sex, but also a troubled light.

That troubled
light he certainly didn’t like. And nope, he wasn’t really
surprised. Nothing about Elissa was going to be easy.

Bracing his
forearms each side of her head, he simply looked down at her.

Jesus, she
felt good beneath him, all soft and sweet, that thick, blonde hair
scattered over the pillow in wanton abandonment. Her lush lips were
swollen from his kisses, her apple cheeks flushed from spent
passion, her eyes - well, hell, the wary, slightly abashed
expression in them was not good.

Seeking to put
her at ease, he smiled slightly. “Hey.”

She swallowed
but gamely kept her gaze trained on him. “This - this isn’t…” When
he simply waited patiently, she whispered, “This isn’t right.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She glanced
away, glanced back. “I don’t do this sort of thing.”

He waited.

“I don’t - I
don’t have sex with men I’ve only known a couple of days.”

Somehow, he
didn’t doubt it. “Okay.”

“I’ve only
known you a couple of days.”

“I’m honoured,
then.”

She looked
away, suddenly restless, her knee bending.

The shift in
position was a tantalizing reminder that he was still buried inside
her, deep inside, and going by the catch of her breath she felt
him, too.

Shit, he could
feel himself getting hard once more. Damn, he could do it all
again. Those big eyes looked up at him, the answering flare of heat
in the brown depths, but then her bottom lip started to tremble,
her eyes filling with tears.

Doused his
flame like a bucket of water, made protectiveness surge upwards in
its place. Framing her cheeks with his palms, he asked gently, “Did
I hurt you?”

“No.” She
blinked. “I just - I need to get up.”

That didn’t
sound like a good idea to him. “Talk to me.”

“No. Not here.
Not like this.”

He glanced
around the room, back down at her. “Sweetheart, this is as private
as it gets.”