Aeromancist - The Beginning (Seven Forbidden Arts 2)

It was so damn hot. Her legs weren’t going to hold her up much longer. Her knees wobbled and her muscles quivered. His too gentle touch became the pain he promised. It was sweet torture.

“More,” she said, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

He obliged immediately, sucking harder and pinching her throbbing clit with his lips. When she swayed, he held her steady with his hands on her hips.

She felt exposed but cherished, a heady cocktail that sped up the building of her release. The moment her inner muscles contracted, he bit down softly, sending her body into a prolonged spasm. She moaned as the orgasm ripped through her. Normally, she had to work hard for her orgasms, but this one came hard and fast.

He continued nipping and sucking until he’d wrenched the very last tremor from her body, and her legs finally gave in. He had to catch her around her waist to keep her from falling to the floor.

“Krasavitsa,” he said in a rough voice, “I can’t wait longer.”

He straightened and slipped his hands under her knees and behind her back, lifting her with ease and carrying her to the bed. Gently, he laid her in the middle of the mattress before starting to undress. She watched as his clothes came off, piece by piece. He looked like a Greek god. His torso was lean, his skin glowing with a golden tan. After his shirt, he removed his shoes and socks, and then his pants and briefs. Her eyes widened at the size and thickness of his erection. Apprehension and embarrassment crept over her, making her flush with heat. She wasn’t a prude, but she was staring at the very large and erect cock of a man she didn’t know from Adam, a man she’d just promised could have her for a month.

“The human body is beautiful,” he said as if reading her mind. “It deserves to be admired.”

She envied him his confidence. Then again, with his looks, how could he be self-conscious? He had to be used to many women admiring that perfect body.

He crawled onto the bed and stretched out over her, keeping his weight on his arms. His skin was warm and his body hard. His cock jutted at her entrance, and suddenly she was impatient to feel him inside. When she gripped his shaft and guided it to her folds he clicked his tongue, but smiled at her with approval.

“So hot,” he said, kissing her and making her need build again.

Soft lips molded around hers, slowly increasing the intensity of the kiss until he was fucking her mouth with his tongue. She liked tasting herself on him, but she needed the urgency of that pace in a different part of her body.

She pushed on his shoulders. “Now. Now, please.”

He only chuckled. “My impatient little krasavitsa.” He kissed her forehead. “Impatient, adventurous, and beautiful.”

She moaned when he moved down to kiss her breast, licking and teasing with his tongue, and then, without warning, sucking hard. The fire shot from her nipple to her clit. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. She felt swollen and needy, and where she was biting her tongue before to smother her moans, she couldn’t care now if Alfonso or the whole world heard them. She cried out when he gave her other breast the same treatment while pushing his thumb down on her clit with steady pressure.

“Ah.” She arched her body to his touch. “Please.”

“Just a little longer,” he coaxed. “I want to come with you.”

Opening her eyes, she stared at him. How could he be so steadfastly in control when she was falling apart and begging him for release?

She pushed back her frustration and dragged her hands over his chest. His muscles rippled under her fingertips. The pressure of his thumb disappeared, and then his cock pressed at her entrance.

“Yes,” she said in a breathy voice. “Fuck me.”

“Slowly, krasavitsa. You’re so wet, but I don’t want to tear you.”

He pressed forward, stretching her with the head of his cock. She gasped at the intrusion. The fire was both pleasure and discomfort. Taking her face between his hands, he kept his hips still as he kissed her, giving her time to adjust.

The burning eased enough after a moment to make her want more. In a silent gesture for him to continue, she arched her hips.

“Slowly,” he said, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. “Let me savor our first time.”

Her body had a different idea. She wanted all of him. Now. She squeezed her inner muscles to pull him deeper.

He uttered a strained chuckle. “You’re going to make me lose it.”

She was beyond losing it. She wanted him with a hunger she’d never felt. “You said to tell you what I want. I want everything.”

“Patience, krasavitsa,” he said, working himself another inch deeper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”