She stepped out of her sarong, leaving her in nothing but her gold and ivory heels and the rubies and gold bracelets on her wrists. She hadn’t bothered with underwear. It was too hot, and they were constantly washing out clothing. He kissed his way down to her belly button. He spent time there, licking along that sweet treasure before lifting her to carry her to the bed, under the large overhead fan.
He hadn’t turned on any lights, but he didn’t need them. The moon was nearly full, and the cabin was surrounded with windows on every wall, so the silvery light spilled across the bed and her body. He came down over her, framing her face and kissing her again. Devouring her fire. That mouth promised paradise and then delivered in the form of flames.
Then he was at her breasts again, this time leaving his mark. She cradled his head and arched her back, giving him full access to her without hesitation. Her soft cries of encouragement fed his hunger. His hands couldn’t stop moving over her, shaping every curve, taking his time, memorizing her so that he’d know her body anywhere, light or dark, she was imprinted on his brain.
He wanted his last memories to be of this, the softness of her skin, the sounds she made, the way her fingers felt in his hair as she held him to her. Shylah was perfection, her body moving under his. The soft cries she made, those sounds he wanted to hear in his mind before the end came.
Her fingers stroked along his back, sending waves of pleasure down his spine. Then they pressed deep and her nails were biting into him as his teeth scraped and his tongue stroked. He kissed his way down her body, using hands and mouth to know every inch of her intimately. Her legs were slender and went on forever. He especially loved that about her. It felt to him as if he could wrap his hands around her thighs and he did just that, pulling them apart, giving him access to what he wanted.
His first taste was amazing. Exquisite. Wintergreen. Delicate. Her entire body jerked and shuddered. A little gasp escaped, and he glanced up to look at her sprawled out on the bed before him like a feast. Her face was flushed. Her full breasts swayed enticingly with every movement. Her hips bucked, the long legs bent and spread wide, his hands clamped there like shackles around her thighs. Her lips were parted, breath coming in ragged gasps, the color sweeping up her body to her face. The gold around her throat and wrists gleamed in the moonlight and the fiery gems blazed at him.
He would never forget the sight of her, waiting for him. Eyes a little dazed. The sound of her soft keening surrounding him. She didn’t plead out loud, but he saw the aching hunger in her eyes. She didn’t know what she wanted, but he did. He settled between her thighs and licked up the inside of her leg. His teeth scraped and then nipped. Her hips bucked hard.
“Settle, my beautiful wife.” He breathed warm air across those honeyed curls. “I intend to indulge myself. I’ve waited a very long time for you, and I’m going to make sure you’re just as needy as I am.” He wanted to make certain everything he did brought her pleasure.
“I’m not complaining.” Her voice shook. So did her body.
He took his time, nuzzling her, pulling her erotic scent into his lungs. There was the elusive perfume he had come to associate with her. Wintergreen. Peonies. His personal peony. His tongue moved over her, swirled around her clit and then, when she gasped, plunged deep. She cried out and he took advantage of his strength, holding her thighs open so he could feast. He created a suction cup with his tongue, and then flattened it.
Draden was careful to be gentle, giving her time to get used to the unfamiliar sensations racing through her. Several times she cried out and her hips bucked ferociously, her breathing more ragged than ever, encouraging him to continue. Each time it happened, he added a little something more. His tongue. His hand cupping her. Fingers circling her. Thumb flicking. Every stroke took her higher. Gave him more liquid honey.
Love welled up, mixing with lust, a shocking turn-on that shook him past anything he’d ever felt before. Each stroke of his hand on her soft skin, the taste of her in his mouth, the way she filled his mind, made him feel complete. The intensity of feeling every single sensation rushing through his body when he was so utterly focused on her, determined to give her the best possible experience, only brought him more pleasure than he’d ever known.
Each time she got close, he backed off. He needed her desperate. She was tight. Too tight, and he wasn’t a small man. He waited until the sounds she made were little chanting demands. Her body was flushed and moving without direction, always seeking his mouth and fingers—his strumming thumb. She thrust with every rhythm he created. Only then did he take her over. She went hard, the orgasm sweeping through her, ripping like a powerful tidal wave.
Her low, keening cry sent heat spiraling through his body and a rush of desire down his spine. He was on his knees, his cock lodged in her. He needed to see her eyes and she opened them, shock on her face as he steadily pushed through those tight, hotter than hell muscles. Her body reluctantly gave way, opening for him when he demanded.
Already the friction was so much it was scalding. Fiery. A velvet fist gripping him hard and squeezing rhythmically. He hit the thin barrier and felt her wince for the first time. He gripped her hips and surged through while her body was still rippling with the aftereffects of her orgasm.
Shylah gasped, her mouth forming a round O. Her eyes went hazy. He stopped moving and she instantly protested, thrusting up to impale herself on his cock. He filled her, stretching that tight channel, closing his eyes to savor the feeling of being inside her. Paradise. He’d known that was what she’d feel like.
He was gentle, taking his time, each stroke a long, slow build to send streaks of fire racing through her. He lifted her bottom, his hands on her hips, guiding her as he moved in her. Every surge forward jolted her breasts, so they swayed and danced, heightening his pleasure. Her stomach muscles rippled with life. Her breath came in ragged explosions and her eyes went wide and dazed. He was a visual man. Seeing his woman with that dazed, almost shocked pleasure on her face, feeling her response, her body moving with his, those tight muscles massaging a burning friction into the shaft of his cock, heightened the sensations racing through his body.
Draden moved a little faster, thrusting deep and hard. Fire streaked up his cock and spread through his belly. She matched his rhythm as if born for sex with him. He couldn’t look away from the beauty of her face. The way it was flushed and sexy. The way she watched him as if he were the center of her universe.
“You good?” He needed her to say it. His body was making demands, feeling the ferocious fire building between them.
“More than good.”
He took her at her word and began to move the way he needed, holding her hips, fingers digging deep as he surged into her over and over, deep, hard thrusts that sent lightning crashing through him as her tight channel gripped and milked with greedy determination and strength. His cock swelled and pushed at the soft tissue, adding to the exquisite friction.
He felt her body ripple, a delicious warning and then her sex clamped down on his so tightly he could barely move, strangling his cock, working it, determined to get every drop of his seed. Heat spread through him like wildfire. His cock kept swelling, fighting back against the tight restriction. He kept moving, chasing the lightning, letting it have him. His balls were on fire, twin roiling cauldrons drawing up tight. His body strained, from his toes to his head. Then his cock was jerking hard, emptying itself into her, coating the walls of her sheath so the burn was scorching beyond what he’d ever known.
Her body took his like a tsunami, sweeping them both out and away, tossing them into a star-studded galaxy, while her tight, hot cha
nnel continued to work him, draining him dry and leaving him absolutely spent with sheer pleasure. He collapsed over top of her and the action sent another strong ripple through both of them.
His lungs burned. Hers had to, but he couldn’t move, letting her take his weight for several long moments while he fought for air. She didn’t protest, although he knew he weighed enough to crush the air from her lungs. He loved the feel of her soft body under his. It felt as if she’d melted into him and they wore the same skin.
His lips found her throat and then moved up to nibble at her chin, her dimple and finally her mouth to take the last of her air. Only then did he find the strength to rise up on his elbows, his hands framing her face.
“I love you, Shylah Freeman. With everything I am, with everything in me.” Ordinarily he might feel ridiculous saying something like that to a woman, but it was the truth and he felt compelled to give her that. “You’re never going to have cause to think you made a mistake.”
“I know that, honey,” she whispered back. “I absolutely believe in you—in us. We’re good together.”
“Whitney may be a complete madman and an absolute fucking wreck of a human being, but he gave me you,” Draden said. “I’d still put a bullet in his head, but I’d thank him first.”
Shylah muffled her laughter against his shoulder. “That sounds like you. I’d be right there with you.”
“Are you starving? You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“I am, but I don’t think I can move.”
He gave a little groan as he rolled off of her. His cock slid free and sensations shook him as the sensitive organ pulled free of her tight grip on him. “That feels so damn good, baby. Unbelievable.”
“Mmmhmm.” The sound was both amused and an agreement. “I’m going to just lie here, but I think I’ve sprung a leak and our bed is going to be a mess. Still, I’m not moving.”
He forced himself to sit up. His legs felt shaky, but his body was buzzing with life. So alive. Every cell. “I’ll get something to clean you up and then we’re eating, because as soon as possible, we’re doing this again.”