Page 59 of Give Me Strength

A million questions race through my mind. Namely: What? How? Why?

But more importantly, HOW?

Instead of voicing any of that, I settle on, “That makes two of us.”

His eyes go feral, and he closes the distance between us in a few short strides. I practically pounce on him the minute his butt hits the bed, searing my lips to his as I plant both thighs on either side of his hips. His hands clamp down on my hips and he pulls me flush against him, capturing my needy whimpers with his mouth. I can feel the hard ridges of his body against mine, his erection flush against my core. My back arches against him, seeking friction and desperate for release.

His hands lower to find my waist and circle around to hold me tighter against him, like he needs me. Like he can’t believe I’m really in his arms.

No wait, that’s me.

I can’t help it, though. My hands trail up and down his taut muscles in his back. I can’t believe I get to touch him as much as I want.

First thing I want to do is lick him. Everywhere. To commit him to memory using only my tongue. My mouth waters at the thought. Flames spread across my skin, and my breathing turns ragged. His does too, and he drops his head so his forehead rests against mine.

For a moment, we just breathe each other in, breathes commingling.

“You kiss like you dance,” he murmurs, his nose brushing lightly against mine.

My brain is foggy, scrambled with need as I ask, “How’s that?”

He laughs, but it’s low and deep in his throat, half a growl, as he steals another kiss. “Like you were born to do so.” He steals another kiss. “Like you were born to lead. To command.”

“And you’ll follow?” I breathe out as he tips my head back gently and takes my exposed neck in his mouth.

“To the very ends of the earth,” he whispers against my neck just before he drags his tongue across the sensitive skin. His movements are tortuously slow, filled with the promise of more.

I want more of him now, and I don’t want to wait any longer. So I feed my fingers through the back of his hair, dragging his mouth back to mine and kiss him again. Harder.

Then we’re moving. Rolling, more like, onto the middle of the bed. I drag my nails through his hair, grazing his scalp. He groans between kisses, which he scatters up my cheek then down my neck. His teeth graze over my skin, and then he sucks down on my neck, leaving a mark. I gasp, and he swirls his tongue over the sensitized flesh.

“Mine,” he rasps, and my pussy clenches in response to his husky tone. Sheer, unadulterated need throbs between my legs. He kisses my neck, then bites hard on my earlobe. “Were you touching yourself when I first came in?”

“Yes.” I could lie, but I don’t see the point in doing so. “A certain someone got me all hot and bothered.”

He lowers his lips to my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss. “Show me.”

It takes some maneuvering, but I manage it. Touching myself isn’t new to me, but I’ve never done so without an audience. I’m not surprised to find the slickness between my folds. What surprises me, though, is how easily I am able to slip three fingers inside.

I lift my fingers to show him, the room’s soft lighting makes my own juices shimmer on my fingertips. He grabs my wrist and brings my fingers to his mouth. I watch as his tongue runs over my fingers, then he closes his lips around all three. His lips spread into a wide grin when he licks them clean, his chest vibrating with a deep, appreciative him.

“I need more.”

“Too many clothes.”

He lets out a hungry chuckle as he pushes off me. “Let’s rectify that, shall we?”

Keeping his eyes on mine, he pulls my shorts off, then my tank top and tosses both somewhere in the room. I feel exposed, vulnerable, so I scoot back to the middle of the bed, and he crawls after me, slowly, like a lion on the prowl. Another hungry groan emanates form him as his eyes hungrily roam all over me, the sound abruptly ceasing as his gaze settles on my tattoo.

He leans in, nudging my legs apart as he uses the pad of his thumb to trace over the raised ink permanently etched onto my skin. His dark gaze lifts to meet mine, the unspoken question in his eyes.

“I carry them with me, everywhere I go,” I tell him.

His throat shifts, and he lowers, trailing hungry kisses down my body. He pauses on my stomach, runs his tongue over it. A low hum rumbles in his chest, the vibrations ricochets through me.

“What was that?”

Those dark, piercing eyes lift to meet mine again, his expression surprisingly tender. “Vous êtes plus que suffisant, mon amour. Tu es tout pour moi.”

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