Each lash of his tongue sent a fiery spear through her body so that she jumped, and her sex clenched hotly. More hot liquid spilled to mix with the frosting. Draden lapped it up, taking his time, ignoring her squirming. Her hips bucked in desperation.
“You’re killing me.”
“I’m making you feel good.”
He was doing that too. But maybe she was going to die before she actually got to the best part. It was entirely possible, she was that far gone. He reached for the champagne. “All that sweetness makes me thirsty. What about you? No?” Gripping the neck of the bottle with his fist, he tipped it up and drank directly from it.
Again, he took his time, looking down at her while she strained toward him. He poured a small amount of the champagne into her belly button. It ran down her belly and his lips and tongue chased after it. Then he took a mouthful and very casually, before she could think what he was doing, lifted her hips higher and using his tongue as a funnel, let the champagne trickle into her. Bubbles burst everywhere. She gasped and heard her own ragged, breathless plea. She was close, so close. She just needed him to take her over the edge. He lapped at the champagne, all the while flicking her clit and then suckling until she wanted to scream her demands at him.
He laughed softly and tipped the bottle to his mouth again. He stretched up to put his mouth over her left nipple. The cold champagne was shocking, along with the contrast of his mouth suckling so strongly. His fingers rolled and tugged on her right nipple, a little harder than before, sending fiery arrows straight to her clenching sheath.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” he murmured, kissing his way down her belly back to between her legs.
“Too good.” She barely managed to gasp the two words. Her voice was husky, almost hoarse. Her head thrashed on the mattress and she couldn’t still her body.
He laughed and knelt up between her legs, his fist around his cock. He looked starkly male, blatantly aroused, his eyes hooded and lust stamped deeply into the lines of his face. He pushed into her, giving her just the head, letting that broad, velvet tip stretch her.
“Draden.”
She just managed to gasp his name, and he surged forward without preamble, his thick cock driving through her tight muscles to bury himself deep. He didn’t stop. Didn’t give her time to think or give her body time to get used to the invasion. His hips were like pistons, wild and hard, driving into her over and over, so that every exquisitely brutal stroke jolted her body and sent her breath rushing from her lungs.
Flames streaked through her. Spread like wildfire. A spectacular fire with the flames shooting toward the sky in bright colors of red and orange. The sensations ran from her toes to her head, covering her breasts so that her nipples were burning every bit as bad as the tight muscles surrounding his cock. He was scorching hot, never stopping, his pace furious, perfect.
“Give me your legs.”
His arms slid under her thighs to lift them up, so he could spread her wider and lean into those hard strokes. She hastily broke the silk, leaving the ties around her ankle but severing them at the two posts. He leaned into her, using his strength, his cock sliding over her clit and deep into her sheath, hitting a sensitive spot that erupted into a heat that rushed through her like rocketing lava. Deep inside a coiling started. Tension winding. Tighter and tighter.
“Draden.” She whispered his name as a talisman, or tried to. It came out more of a groan, an entreaty.
That tension in her grew and grew until it was a little terrifying. Looking at his face only added to the erotic intensity. He looked like sex incarnate. His body was hard and hot, his hands strong on her, forcing her legs open. He controlled the movement entirely, which at that point was a good thing. She tried to grind down on him, but she was too far gone.
Desire was so strong it consumed her. Every nerve ending was on fire for him. She was aware of everything about him, wholly focused on him. Utterly. Completely. Every harsh breath he drew. The ripple of his ab muscles, the sheen of sweat on his skin. She watched as they came together and slid apart. He looked big, too big to fit, but still, he did. The fit was tight and scorching hot and the friction was increasing until she thought she was going to go insane or come apart in a million little fragments.
“I’m afraid.” She managed to squeak the warning. She was nearing the end of her endurance. The explosion was coming, and she was afraid it might rip her apart.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he reassured, his face a deeply carved, sensual mask of lust and love. “I’ll always have you.”
She teetered there. Right on the edge. He stroked again and again. Hard. Fast. Deep. And then she heard herself cry out, a long aching scream of sheer bliss. The waves were powerful and took her from her feet up, ripping through her body, the quakes roaring through her, so she was helpless under the onslaught.
Her tight channel clamped down around his shaft, strangling him, gripping hard and taking him with her, ripping the hot seed from his body so that his cock jerked explosively over and over. Long after he stopped, her body still rippled with life, sending shudders of pleasure through both of them.
He collapsed forward, forcing her to take his weight, driving air from her lungs so that it burned to try to breathe, but she didn’t try to move out from under him. She liked the way they felt, as if they’d burned so hot their skin had melted together. She felt his heart racing right along with her own, and she liked that he had to struggle to breathe the same way she did. She especially liked that they were still joined together. She wanted to think of them that way, always together. Draden and Shylah.
If they didn’t have a lot of time, she couldn’t say this hadn’t been the best, because it had. He’d given her gifts beyond measure and foremost was the love he’d showed her. She kept her arms around him even when he stirred as if he needed to move.
“Let’s just sleep like this.”
He kissed the junction between her shoulder and neck, leaving a lingering flame. “You wouldn’t wake up. I’d squish you.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want you to move.”
Draden brushed kisses over her mouth and she tried to kiss him back, but it was too much effort. He slid off of her and smiled when she groaned a protest.
“Give me a minute and I’ll let you sleep.” He sat up and reached to pull the loose silk from her ankles and brushed kisses over the marks before putting her feet back on the bed. “I’ll get a washcloth.”
“There’s no hope for it, honey,” she muttered. “I’m a sticky mess and I don’t care. I’m going to sleep.”
“Not yet. Don’t fall asleep.” There was laughter in his voice.
She rolled over onto her stomach. “I can’t move. I’m never moving again. If you want more sex, you’ll just have to roll me over while I’m asleep.”
He pressed a kiss into the small of her back and massaged her left buttock cheek. “I don’t have to do that. I’ll just pull you up onto your hands and knees.”
She blew at her hair to get it out of her face, but she didn’t move. “You could try, but I’d just collapse. You officially wore me out.”
Draden took possession of her wrist and turned her arm over to inspect her skin. He frowned. “Shylah, you shouldn’t have marks on you. The point was you controlled the silk. This was pulled way too tight.”
“Was it?” Surprised, she lifted her chin just enough to survey the marks on her inner wrist. “It didn’t hurt. I didn’t even notice. They’ll go away.” She dropped her head back down and closed her eyes. “Ants are going to eat us alive by morning, but I don’t care. I really don’t.”
“I’m going to wash you up and then strip the bed and remake it. The ants don’t get to have you, baby. If anyone is doing the eating, that would be me. I refuse to share, not even with ants.”
“I suppose since I don’t want to die in true horror fashion, that’s a good thing.” The moment the words left her mouth she thought about the hemorrhagic virus replicating itself in he
r cells. She should have been alarmed, but she was just too sleepy and sated.
Draden didn’t respond. Instead, he found a washcloth, got it wet with warm water and began the deliberately slow task of cleaning her up. Her nerves were on fire, close to the surface, and her sex was still spasming. Every brush, every stroke of the rough cloth over her sensitized skin sent stronger ripples through her body. Her nipples were hard little pebbles and he clearly couldn’t resist bending to kiss them and then suckle gently while she shuddered over and over with pleasure. She didn’t stop him though. It felt beautiful to her. Perfect.
Shylah didn’t open her eyes, letting the fire just continue to consume her while he worked. She supposed she should offer to wash him, but she was afraid if she tried to move, she’d just collapse. Her entire body felt like a wet noodle.
His arm slid under her legs and behind her back. She tried to open one eye. “What are you doing?”
“Moving you so I can clean the bed. No ants, remember? Give me a few minutes and I’ll put you back in bed with clean sheets.” He put her bottom in a chair with her knees over the arm so her legs dangled.
“I can’t possibly help you, and I should.” She pried her eyes open to look at his very intriguing backside.