Page 77 of Soulbound
She nodded desperately.
"I would have to be in control." That hand stroked down over the lawn of her nightgown, as if he soaked in the sensation of the fine fabric. "Don't move."
Cleo's nipples pebbled. The ache between her thighs grew hotter, wetter. But she didn't dare move.
And maybe in not daring, it became somewhat more indecent indeed. Denial became a fierce ache, until she could barely breathe for the need to reach her hand between her thighs.
How far would he take this?
Sebastian was barely touching her, his fingertips skating lazily over her hip and up the side of her ribs. Her breasts felt heavy and full, desperately aching for his touch, but she was not in control here. He was.
"I dream of you sometimes," he murmured, brushing the backs of his knuckles over the side of her breast. "I think of the taste of your mouth." He caught her chin, tilting it back toward his for a kiss. "And how sweet the sounds you made were...."
Their lips brushed against each other’s. Sebastian lazily traced her tongue with his, a slow seduction that grew deeper, and deeper.... Heat stirred deep in her belly as the kiss turned hungrier. All her attention was focused on the teasing circle of his thumb as it grew closer and closer to her nipple.
Cleo shuddered as his hot mouth moved down the column of her throat, his hand finding the fullness of her breast and palming it firmly. She couldn't help noting the practiced way he manipulated her. He knew her body better than she ever could. And it would have bothered her a little, if it weren't for the soft noises he made, and the rasp of his teeth against her shoulder.
She wanted to touch him too.
To drive him half wild with lust, the way he was doing to her.
"What is it?" he murmured.
She lifted her shoulder off the bed, dragging his arm beneath her, and curling her fingers through his. "May I touch you too?"
"Later," he breathed. "It's not the touching that bothers me, so much as the being touched. I would need a lantern there, so I could see your face."
Those fingers brushed down her hip, leaving her gasping in great ragged breaths. She turned her face into the pillow as he began to stroke upward, skimming her nightgown out of the way, until she could feel his callused fingertips tracing those small, teasing circles up her thigh.
"Part your thighs," he breathed, hot breath caressing her ear, and his body pressed tightly behind hers.
Heat burned in her cheeks, but there was no place for embarrassment here. Cleo complied. "What are you doing?"
Grabbing a fistful of her nightgown, he dragged it slowly up, leaving her bare beneath the sheets. His hips gave a small thrust, and she felt something hard press against her bottom. His erection, no doubt.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he whispered.
His fingertips circled her bare hip, leaving her twitchy and restless, but she sensed the question they asked: Yes? Or no?
"I think you're trying to torture me," she whispered back, capturing his hand. Their fingers twined together, and then he was kissing her neck again, breathing in the scent of her hair as if it anchored him.
His hand slid beneath hers, curling over her thigh, and nudging them apart a little. Cleo died a thousand little deaths as she let him guide her hand lower.
Fingers dipped between her thighs, stroking idly through the soft curls there. Cleo's eyes widened, and Sebastian captured her gasp in his other hand, his breath stirring the curls behind her ear again. "Shhh," he whispered, almost as if he enjoyed forcing her to be silent and still while he mastered her body.
Shhh? She cried out as his questing fingertips found her wet and swollen. Sensation speared through her as he located the precise spot where she needed to be touched. A jerk went through her. Oh, God.
He toyed with her lightly, and suddenly she could barely breathe. There was heat beneath her skin, dark and delicious. And a rush of feeling stirred through her, almost like the sensation of her predictions, only within her, not on top of her skin.
The darkness within her stretched and awoke. She didn't want to be a young woman anymore, uncertain of her welcome and shy beneath his touch. She wanted to own him. Heart and soul.
"You're so wet," he murmured. "So fucking wet."
Two fingers stretched her, as he buried them up to the first knuckle. Despite her inexperience, her body parted easily, slick and moist to the touch. Cleo writhed. "More. Please."
The sharp bite of teeth bit into the sensitive skin between her shoulder and her neck. "But you're not in control here, my love."
His fingers slipped from her body as if to remind her of this fact, and he circled that sensitive spot again, leaving her crying out into his palm. Cleo's entire body shivered.
