Her Reaper's Arms, Charlotte Boyett-Compo [world best books to read .TXT] 📗

arching her hips up, seeking something she did not understand,

wanting something for which she had no name.

He stroked her until she was moaning and undulating her hips, mercilessly

tormenting her with his strong fingers, his well-groomed nails. By the time he put his

mouth to her clit, she was nearly mindless with need.

Her hands plowed through his hair and she held him where he was, her neck

arched back as he lapped at her dewy flesh, tasted her, making soft, smacking sounds

that only added to her arousal. Her heels were digging into the mattress, her legs

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splayed as far apart as her bones would allow, her hips arching up to his seeking

mouth.

She tasted of honey—warm and spicy—and the scent of her reminded him vividly

of peaches fresh from the vine, cut open in the hot sun to seep their juices from the slit.

He spiraled his tongue over and around her clit and nibbled it, pushing the hood back

to gain the very most of that receptive nub. He dragged it over her folds and stabbed

with lightning forays into the creases, keeping well away from that dark, sensuous dell

into which he wished to plunge.

He felt her tugging on his hair and yet it felt good to him. It gave wildness to the

moment that did nothing save spur him on as he flashed the tip of his tongue at her

opening then moved a finger to that creamy entrance where her juices were freely

flowing.

“Bevyn!” she cried out, and he knew that minute touch, that small sortie into her

folds had brought about her first sexual release.

He lifted his head and looked up at her wide eyes as she stared at him with her lips

parted, her tongue sweeping across the full lower flesh to make his loins burn with

need.

“What was that?” she asked, her body quivering as the last spasm faded away.

“The beginning, my love,” he whispered. “Only the beginning.”

He eased his finger deeper inside her until the first joint and then the second

disappeared from view. She tensed around him, her vaginal muscles locking on to him

with fervor.

“Relax,” he said, putting his free hand to her belly and pressing lightly. “Relax and

let your man pleasure you.”

Lea’s heart soared at the name he had called himself. He was indeed her man and

she was without a moment’s hesitation his lady. She was reveling in his touch, was

mesmerized by it, and as his finger moved inside her—circling and slightly

withdrawing, going a bit deeper until she could feel his folded fingers on the entrance

to her opening, she moaned, grazing his scalp with her nails.

“That’s my woman,” he said. “Pull if you want to.”

She could not imagine herself ever hurting him but when he thrust a second finger

inside her, her hand jerked spasmodically in his curls and she heard him grunt then

release a low chuckle.

“Leave some up there, wench,” he teased.

He was slowly rotating his fingers inside her cunt and Lea was lost in a rush of

pleasure so great she could only close her eyes and enjoy it. She felt a third finger join

the other two and wondered if his cock would be as wide, would stretch her as his

fingers did.

“That is what I am doing, wench,” he said as though reading her mind. “I am

preparing you for him.”

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She was slick, her juices coating his fingers. He knew she was but a hair’s breadth

away from another orgasm so pushed his fingers deep and held them there, his other

hand pressing down on her belly to send the blood flooding into her groin.

“Oh god!” she cried out, and the wave of squeezes that clutched at his fingers

nearly made him come. His cock was steel-hard and burning with desire, his balls so

tight he thought they well might burst from their fleshy sacs. He had to tamp down his

building release until he was sure she was primed for his entry.

“Easy, milady,” he said, soothing her as he would a stallion he was readying for the

saddle. “Easy.”

The last tremors faded inside her and yet Lea knew there was something extra for

which he was preparing her, something more that would bring the stars down from the

heavens.

With her eyes on his, he withdrew his fingers from her body—puckering his lips at

her groan of protest as though he were reprimanding her—then opened his mouth to

lick her juices from his flesh.

“Ah Bevyn!” she sighed, shuddering. She was nearly beside herself wanting him to

slide his body over hers, to press her down, to capture her. She ached to know what it

felt like to have him inside her, his rigid cock—the cock that pressed so hard against her

thigh—seated deep.

Her taste was unlike anything he had ever known and it felt right. It tasted right. It

was right but he wanted more so he went to the source, journeyed to the well to take his

next sip.

His mouth on her nearly sent Lea up in flames. He was suckling her opening,

drinking from her, slipping his tongue inside, lapping at her folds and then lifting her

hips to flick that wicked muscle around her anus, pressing it into the tiny opening.

Another hard wave of spasms shot through her and she raked her nails across his

shoulders, unable to keep herself from doing so. She trembled as he dragged the broad

plane of his tongue over and over and over her slit as she came, the flood of her juices

coating him.

She was well primed, he thought as her arms fell to her sides, and then he was up

and over her, shifting one hand under her delectable little rump, lifting her for his

penetration. His other hand went to the base of his cock and he positioned himself,

readied his shaft to impale her.

“Look at me, sweeting,” he ordered, and watched her eyelids flutter open. “Watch

my eyes while I take you.”

She knew there would be pain. Mable and the other women had warned her, but

there was no pain when he slid into her, only the most remarkable pleasure, the most

intoxicating gratification she could ever have imagined. He went slowly but firmly into

her and pressed as deep as his large rod