Page 89 of Bound
She stares up at me, her already glowing eyes spilling light around us. I kiss her again. The hurry disappears when she looks at me like that. The need remains. The heat. But there is nothing but her and those big, beautiful eyes.
I scoop her against me.
“Shower?” she asks, tone wry.
I sit on the bed and scoot back until my head reaches a pillow. Letting her go, her hands catch her weight on my chest as she straddles me. Surprise colors her face.
“What are you doing?”
My lips curve. “I want to watch you ride me, Amoret.”
She tenses. “I don’t understand.”
Her innocence is not frustrating, as I expected. I get a twisted joy in being her first. In being the only male to fill her channel. Of mine being the only name she has ever screamed. Of being the one to see her cast away the dark.
Now I want to watch her reach her peak above me.
I grip her hips and lift her with ease. My length weeps as it nudges her entrance. The one that is already so slick. She makes a sound at the pressure, her eyes flaring brighter as a hint of light spills under her skin.
My body draws up and I force the need to bank. Just a little.
She rocks back hesitantly, seeking more of me. I tilt my hips to help. Inch by slow inch, she seats me in her tight core until she can take no more. She’s like wet silk.
No.
Better.
I guide her forward and back. Her core ripples in response to my body inside hers. Just as it did last night. Her gasp is sexy, delighted. And the white hot pleasure of her sheath squeezes me in a grip that borders on painful.
Her stomach bunches and flexes as she mimics how I moved her. Her breasts bounce a little, her waist undulates. She moves in a full body roll that I feel into my fucking toes.
“There you go,” I rumble as I watch her through heavy lids.
She rocks her hips, testing each ginger sway. But I let her set the pace, my hands gliding over her thighs, the soft curve of her stomach, her pert breasts with their dusky pink nipples. I flick the buds and roll them in my fingers.
Her hips rock faster.
“Do you like that?” I ask, even as I can feel her tighten around me in response.
She nibbles her lip, her eyes wide.
“It’s okay to tell me, Amoret. If it feels good, say it.”
“All of it feels so good,” she says in a husky whisper and my cock jerks.
“Does it?”
Her nod is furtive.
“Grab the headboard.” Though her eyes widen, she reaches up past my head, locking her hands on the frame.
I prop one elbow under me and raise up. My tongue flicks over her nipple and she cries out, quaking above me.
It’s all I can take.
I sit up and grip her cheek, pressing my lips to hers. Her rhythm falters and I press my free hand into her spine, using my strength to work her light weight over me. She sucks in air as her lips cinch harder to mine. Her knees tremble beside me, flexing as her core does the same. I growl into her mouth.
“Amoret—”
