Page 112 of Into The Light
A complicated, mind-boggling thing of sapphire lace, the lingerie she's wearing makes my already impossibly-erect cock stiffen so hard I suck in a pained breath. It dives down between her thick, luscious thighs to just barely cover her sex with a narrow slice of lace, leaving her hips naked, leaving exposed the creases where her thighs angle in to her sex. Hugging her tucked-in waist, the lace scoops to frame her breasts, pushing them up from below and squeezing them together from the outside, putting them on mouthwatering display, big lush globes of ivory flesh laced with blue veins that my mouth waters to taste, a semi-circle of areolae peeking around the edge of the lace.
"Fuck,” I breathe. "Holy god in heaven."
Her hesitant gaze lifts to mine at my breathless curse, at the awe in my voice. "Bear…"
Need savages me, my chest heaving as I barely restrain myself from grabbing her and ripping the thing off.
I reach a trembling hand toward her, reverently touching the cleft between her breasts, tracing the outer curve of them. "Perfect tits." I step into her, crushing them against the wall of my chest, and reach down to cradle her backside. "Perfect ass."
"Bear," she whispers again, almost as if she doesn’t know what else to say. It comes out shaky, a gasp of a syllable.
I slide my fingers through her silky cool hair and then pinch her chin between my finger and thumb. "Perfect everything."
I dip down to her and claim her lips. Kiss her until the hunger rips through me with such wrecking-ball force that I have to back away, hands clenched into shaking fists.
She opens her eyes, mouth still parted from the kiss, confusion in her eyes. "Why…why did you stop?"
I growl, words abandoning me. I don't know how to describe what I’m feeling. I'm worried I'll scare her if I let her see the primal ferocity of my desire for her.
I shake my head, breath coming in short, frustrated snarls. "I…fuck, Noelle."
Her hands glide warm and delicate up my stomach. “Talk to me, baby. Tell me."
"Worried I'll scare you."
"What would scare me?"
"Me."
"What about you?" Her eyes seek, hunt, pierce mine. "This is when you give me the unvarnished truth, Bear. Whatever it is. Just tell me. IpromiseI’ll understand."
I shake my head. "Not like that." I can't control my hands—they grasp her hips, caress her thighs, her ass. "I…fuck. Fuck!" I force myself to let go. "Too rough." I close my eyes, and finally, something like a coherent explanation emerges. "I want you sogoddamned bad, Noelle. Waited for you. Knew you needed time. And I don't regret it—I'd wait a century. An eternity."
"Bear, I—" she starts, but I touch her lips to silence her.
She goes quiet but gently and playfully seizes my finger in her teeth, grinning up at me.
"Let me get it out."
She keeps my finger in her teeth, nodding, and then closes her lips around my finger, her gaze burning with playful, seductive heat, tongue licking and teasing my finger; she mimes the act of oral sex on my finger, her eyes on mine, heated and aroused.
Her eyes draw the rest out of me. "You’re a work of art, Noelle. Exquisite. Perfect.” I hold up my hand, showing her my rough, scarred, callused palm; she lets go of my finger and nuzzles my hand, very much like a dog would, all nose, playful, her bright green eyes full of joy and arousal and eager fervor. "And me? I’m…rough. I could hurt you so easily. But I…I fuckingneedyou. Need you so bad it feels like…like madness. It scares me."
She presses her palm to mine, her body flush against me, all doe-eyed beauty and sensual splendor. "Tell me about it, Bear. How it feels. Tell me exactly what your need is like. What it tells you to do."
I shake my head, not a denial exactly. "When I took that robe off and I saw you in this…" I trace the lace along the side of her breast. "I was consumed by this…this urge to—-"
Her doe eyes plead with me. "To what?"
"Rip it off you. Shred it. Pick you up and…" I swallow the rest.
"And what, baby?Tell me.I want to know. Tell me, please." She tucks her fingers between the towel and my skin, behind the knot; my stomach tucks in automatically, my body betraying me, begging for her touch. "Pick me up and do what to me?"
"Fuck you," I whisper. "Make love to you. But not…gently. Not sweet." My teeth grit and grind on the words. "Hard. Rough. Get you on your hands and knees and…" I'm lost to the image, the fantasy that I’ve tried so fucking hard over the last fewmonths to forget. “Pound inside you until your ass shakes. Make your big perfect tits shake. Make come so hard so you see Jesus. I want to fuck you and never, ever stop.”
"Ohhh…" she breathes. "Fuck." It's a hissed epithet, barely a breath. Barely heard.
"See? I…" I cup her face. "You're… you’re everything. Perfect and beautiful and delicate and lovely. The only reason I believe in God is there’s no way something so fucking incredibly gorgeous as you could be anything other than an intentional work of art. And I’m scared I’ll hurt you."
