Page 33 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
“To us,” he said softly, then tipped the contents of his bottle into his mouth. The strong column of his throat moved as he swallowed it.
First counting to three in her head, Marisa drank her vodka in one big swallow. Its potency as it burned down her throat and heated her chest made her eyes water and widen. “Wow, that’s strong,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Can I have another?”
He grinned, plucking the empty bottle from her fingersto place it on the bedside table with his. “No, because then you reallywillbe drunk.”
He brought his face to hers and placed a lingering, feather-light kiss on her mouth. Moving slowly, his hands went to the sash of her robe and undid it, fingers slipping inside to part it.
His mouth still caressing hers, he slid the robe off her shoulders and arms until it lay in a puddle around her bottom and thighs, and she was as naked as he.
She could barely open her throat to say, “Can we turn the light off?”
Eyes locking back to hers, he trailed a finger down the swan of her neck and circled her shoulder. “I know you feel shy, my angel, but you’re beautiful.” Fingers trailed over the plumpness of her breast. He cupped the weight in his palm and murmured, “I want to see you,” before bowing his head and taking the breast in his mouth.
The sensation was so shocking that she jolted, the jolt becoming an electric charge when he sucked, a charge that connected thrillingly to her groin and reignited the small flame fear had doused. His arms wound around her waist, and then his mouth moved up to her neck as he gently pulled her down so she lay on her back with her head on a pillow.
“That’s better,” he whispered, stretching out beside her, his face over hers. Hand running the length of her body from her shoulder to hip and back up to cup her breast, he kissed her, enticing her lips apart with his tongue as he caressingly kneaded the sensitive flesh. Lazily, he ran his thumb over the hardened nipple, sending another bolt of sensation to the flame now flickering in her groin. A gasp hitched in her throat, drowned by the deepening demand of his mouth.
With the taste and scent of Rico filling her senses, Marisa sank into the kiss, her lips moving against his, her tongue making its own demands, kissing and being kissed sothoroughly that when he broke it to trail his tongue down her neck, she’d no recollection of burrowing her fingers in his hair.
Draping a thigh over hers to part her legs, he shifted himself between them and lifted his head to gaze down at her breasts.
Anxiety fought the flickering flames, and it took everything she had not to cover her breasts and curl herself into a ball. Marisa had never been comfortable dressing or undressing in front of others, her sister the only exception, and even then she’d always kept her underwear on or turned her back to her, so to be exposed like this was terrifying beyond what she’d imagined she’d feel.
“You have nothing to be frightened of,” Rico told her softly, aware of the tension reforming in Marisa’s beautiful body. “I promise this will feel good.” Lowering his head again, he took a succulent breast back into his mouth.
Slowly, sensually, he caressed it with languorous strokes of his tongue, encircling the hardened nipple the colour of ripening cherries, gradually feeling her tension ease and her breathing subtly deepen. When he took the breast whole in his mouth and sucked, he was rewarded with an almost imperceptible moan.
Moving his mouth to her other breast, his hand roamed her body in a gentle, unhurried exploration. He’d never felt skin so soft, so perfect. She had the tiniest mole on the underside of her left breast, and it sent a rush of blood to his head to know he was the first person to see it, and when he kissed it, it sent another rush to know he was the first person whose lips had touched it.
The first and the last.
The first and last to skim his hand over her flat belly and gently curved hips. The first and last to caress golden thighs as succulent as her milky-white breasts. The first and last to slide a hand beneath her naked bottom and squeeze thedelectable flesh. The first and last to slide a hand beneath her legs and feel her slippery heat…
It was feeling that slippery heat and remembering how she’d clasped around his fingers so beautifully in her climax that made him have to check himself, close his eyes a moment and breathe air into lungs that had tightened inexorably. None of this was for him. This was all for Marisa.
Resting his chin on her belly, he gazed at her face.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered.
She lifted her head. Her flushed stare held his as if she were probing the most secret parts of his mind. She gave a single nod.
“Then don’t be embarrassed or frightened – I promise what I’m going to do will be the best feeling on this earth.”
Her lips pulled together, her chin trembling before she gave another single nod.
“Close your eyes, my angel. Close your eyes and your mind, and put your trust in me.”
Breathing hard, Marisa put her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. She knew what he wanted to do; an act that had always repelled her just to think about it, and though she tried to close her mind, her jaw tightened, and she balled her hands into fists and mentally braced herself.
Gently, he kissed his way down and over her belly, kissed every inch of it, dipping his tongue into her navel before moving lower still. Hands that had continued their explorations clasped the back of her thighs and raised them, parting them a little more, and now she was deliberately keeping her jaw clamped to stop herself from screaming at him to stop, fighting hard against the mortification of being so completely and utterly exposed.
His hand crawled up the bed to take hold of hers. With limitless patience, Rico unballed her fingers and twined his own through them, and there was something so comforting inthe gesture that when she felt the first probe of his tongue right in the heart of her being and nearly shot off the bed at the shock of it, she squeezed them tightly to keep herself anchored.
As hard as she tried to detach her mind from his mouth’s exploration of her most secret, feminine flesh, it was impossible. She could not switch her mind off to his tongue being inside her, and yet…
Something was happening. It felt like she was thickening from the inside out, slivers of sensation flickering through her, and when he withdrew his probing tongue, she’d relaxed enough to think that hadn’t been so bad, not the best feeling in the world, but quite nice…
His tongue danced up to the pulse between her legs she’d hardly been aware of existing until he’d awoken it on the beach, and licked.
