Page 43 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope
Her breath hitched. "Eluheed," she whispered. "My Eluheed."
"Always." His hand covered her breast, gentle at first, thumb circling until her nipple tightened beneath his palm.
She shivered, and he did it again, pressing a fraction harder. Her hand slid to the back of his neck and held him close while he kissed down her throat, over the slope of bone, across the rise of her chest. He carefully took the swollen peak between his lips, then a little less carefully when she arched and pushed more of it into his mouth.
"More," she whispered, and he obliged, mouth and hand working in unison.
As her fingers dug into his shoulder, his breath became unsteady, the ragged sounds she made stoking something primal in him. He loved that he could undo her like this, coaxing pleasure from her with such ease. Her body was so responsive to his touch, so eager for it.
He lowered himself, kissing the line of her ribs, the hollow of her belly, the soft curve where her thigh began. She spread for him without hesitation, confident in what she wanted and accepting of his offer. He breathed her in, that warm musk that was hers alone, and a sigh escaped him before he could stop it. She caught the sound with a smile and slid her fingers into his hair. He nuzzled the inside of her knee and felt the tremor move through her.
"Tell me what you want me to do," he said, and when she didn't answer right away, he lifted his head to look up her body at her face.
Her eyes were dark and clear. "You know what to do," she said. "Don't stop."
The command in her voice was an aphrodisiac.
He parted her with his thumbs and put his mouth on her, tasting, learning yet again the precise patterns that made her gasp and the angle that pulled a breathy curse from her lips. He had memorized her responses over the course of their time together, but he was mindful of not treating her like a schematic he'd learned and followed blindly.
Each time was like a new beginning, and each time he paid attention to the subtle changes in her mood. Tonight, her bodywanted a slower rhythm at first, a coaxing, and then a hungry push into speed that made her thighs tighten around his ears and her heels drag at the sheets.
He rode that change with her, responsive, relentless when she asked it wordlessly with her grip in his hair.
When he eased two fingers inside her, her head tipped back, and a sound escaped her that would have carried if not for the overhead fan's steady swallow. He curled his fingers just so, and her hips lifted. He then stroked again until he felt her begin to climb. He kept the pace even as her muscles fluttered around him, even as his own desire threatened to crest before it was time.
He wanted her to go first because he loved the way it remade her, the glow that came over her skin, the looseness that meant she would take him without him having to modulate his hunger.
"Elu—," she began, cut herself off because saying his name out loud was dangerous, then abandoned caution. "Eluheed—yes?—"
He smiled into her, tasted the sharpness of her readiness, and did not stop until she took what she wanted. It came on a long, shuddering breath as she bit the back of her wrist to keep the sound in.
She went tight around his fingers and trembled against his mouth, and he stayed with her through it, easing when she needed him to, pressing when her body begged for that last, exquisite push into release.
When the tremors softened, he kissed the inside of her thigh and breathed her in again.
She threaded her fingers in his hair and tugged. "Come here," she said in a voice roughened by pleasure.
He slid up her body and kissed her slowly and deeply, letting her taste herself on his mouth. She made a delighted sound and bit his lower lip, a sweet sting. He settled over her, careful on his forearms so he wouldn't crush her, but she hooked her leg around his hip and pulled him closer.
He pressed the head of his shaft against her and closed his eyes, steadying himself with the taste of her kiss. She was slick, hot, and yielding, and as he slid the first inch, the sharp blast of pleasure nearly undid him. He exhaled and opened his eyes to look at her face, then eased forward until he was fully seated. The perfection of their fit undid him every time. It was like they had been created for one another.
Her hands smoothed down his back. "You feel so perfect inside of me."
He drew back and slid in again, a measured stroke that found the angle he knew she liked most. Her breath hitched. He did it again, a little deeper, adjusting the tilt of his hips until he felt the catch inside her that meant he had found it. He set a rhythm then, deliberate, grounding, each thrust stronger than the last.
She met him, body rising to his, never passive. She learned his timing and then played with it. He buried his face in her neck and breathed her in, that wild little smile curving against his jaw as she moved.
"Look at me," Tamira whispered, and he lifted his head.
She held his gaze, deep blue eyes wide open. He felt naked in a deeper way than skin, deeper than he had allowed himself to beexposed in a thousand years, and he loved her for demanding everything he had, everything he was.
He changed their angle, shifting her knee higher against his side, and she cried out as he hit that place inside that made her shake. He did it again and again, steady, tender, ruthless in his determination to give her everything.
The bed groaned under them, but he ignored the sound. Let the watchers look and listen and covet what they would never have.
Heat climbed, coiling at the base of his spine, insisting on being released. He drove slower to hold it at the edge and felt her respond, her body taking him deeper, little muscles inside gripping him in pulses that made his vision blur. When her fingers slid down to where they joined and circled that most sensitive spot on her body, he bit off a curse and lost a measure of control. He thrust harder, and she made a noise that was a better reward than any medal or accolade he could have ever won.
"Now," she gasped, and he obeyed her again, letting go of restraint. He pushed into her with a rougher rhythm, the slap of skin against skin quickening, the strain in his muscles making him quake. She came first, a sudden convulsion that locked him inside her, her mouth open, breath caught, eyes open and wild.
