Page 94 of The Sea Witch
His hand skimmed up her calf, then higher, past her knee, along her thigh, drawing patterns of pleasure on her skin. She’d never thought her legs were particularly sensitive. They served a purpose, taking her from one end of her ship to the other, allowing her to climb into the rigging, kicking away enemies in the middle of a fight. Yet now they were responsive. She writhed like a cat as his caresses grew more confident.
“Don’t need to linger,” she gasped as she twisted against him.
“No rushing. I may be balancing you, but this is for me as well.”
“Damn you.” She moaned.
“If this is my path to damnation,” he growled, stroking her thigh, “then I forsake the Kingdom of Heaven.”
“I—” She lost the ability to speak as his fingers grazed over her sex.
His hand stilled. “Is this right?”
“It’s very, very right. You can... go between my lips. Touch me deeper.”
He did as she instructed, and they both groaned when he found her slick and soaking. “Fuck.”
Yet for all his eager caresses, he didn’t touch her exactly as she needed.
“Here,” she said, guiding his hand toward her clitoris. “This is where I need you most. Circle it, rub it.”
“Like this?”
She bowed up. “By the stars, yes. And at my entrance. Press against it.”
He joined his mouth to hers, stroking her as commanded. His navigator’s hand learned her geography, all the places that made her cry out, all the topography that made her arch and writhe. His confidence in pleasuring her seemed to grow from moment to moment, and the more he touched her, the brighter the glow emanating from her became, filling the room.
“More.” She gasped. “Fill me.”
He sank one finger into her passage. “Is this enough?”
“Another finger.”
When he did as she instructed, widening and filling her, she bowed up at the feel of him. “There’s a place deep inside me. Swollen. Stroke it.”
He rubbed over the aching, enflamed place within her. She clutched at him and cried out.
“Yes, there,” she gasped. “There.”
Yet it still wasn’t enough. She thrashed, desperate for something to bring her over.
“What do you need? How can I give you what you want?”
“This is good... this is...”
“It isn’t.” His voice had firmed with determination. “Tell me. Anything. I’ll do anything.”
“Your mouth on my cunt,” she said on a tortured groan.
“Never done it before,” he confessed, his eyes blazing, his features sharpening.
“Treat it like the most delicious meal. Something you’d want to eat every day for the rest of your life.”
She lay back, and he swallowed hard as he looked down at her uncovered sex. The blue of his eyes disappeared as his pupils widened. A muscle jumped in his jaw.
With deliberate intent, he rose and then placed himself between her legs. He didn’t seem to care that half his body hung off the bed. All that appeared to matter to him at that moment was her bared cunt.
He wrapped his arms around her thighs, widening them, then he fused his mouth to her. He lapped at her sex, consuming her, teasing her clitoris with his tongue as his fingers continued to pump in and out of her. She bowed upward, but he held her hips with his other hand, pinning her to the bed. Keeping her in place so that she had nowhere to go, no choice to make, accepting and basking in the pleasure he gave her.
