Page 14 of Monarch
“Fuck!”
“Did that hurt?” she asks as she strokes my inner thigh so gently it feels like a feather brushing up and down my skin. “Did that hurt so good?”
“Yes, it hurt,” I answer, and then make sure I am holding her gaze when I add, “Do it again.”
She laughs, and it sounds like birdsong. And then she pinches me again.
“Oh, God,” I groan. It’s even more painful when I’m expecting,wantingit.
“By the way,” she says, bending over again, “I lied.”
“Oh?” I say, wondering if this is another scene-breaking moment.
“I am hungry.” She drops to her knees. “I’m fucking starving.”
And finally, her mouth is on me. She eats me like she kisses – slow licks, teasing tongue flicks, indulgent hard sucks. In no time at all, I’m writhing into her face, and she has to dig her fingers into my hips to still me. But the sweet pain of her manicured nails only adds more magic to the moment. When I start to moan, she does too. When I push up on my elbows to watch her, she takes one of her hands and starts to play with herself, and I know it’s for me. She’s telling me what eating me does to her. That it turns her on so much.
I want to come in her mouth, but I also want my first orgasm with Roos to be something else. Something bigger.
“Roos,” I say tentatively, all while my breathing speeds up with my arousal. “I want to feel you inside me. I want to come with you inside me.”
She gets up and stands in front of me, and it’s this posture that leaves me speechless. She’s tall and lean and so fucking elegant. She’sa beautiful blend of hard lines and soft curves. Her skin is flushed pink, and her nipples are rock hard. I’m in awe of her. All of her.
“My fingers,” she puts two in her mouth and sucks on them, teasing me. “Or my dick?”
“Your dick,” I gasp. “I want your pretty dick inside me while you kiss me to orgasm.”
Something flashes in Roos’ grey eyes. It’s quick and unexpected and a surprise to her too. It takes her a second to arrange her features back into the controlled composure she had before.
“That’s what you want?”
“Yes, please, Roos. Please.”
She reaches for the condom and takes her sweet time putting it on, knowing full well I’m watching her every move. With another nudge of her knee against mine, she makes room for herself and then lies her slim body on top of mine. I can’t stop myself; I wrap my arms around her and hold her to me.
“Move up the bed,” she says in her softer, normal voice.
We shift together, and I’m grateful for it because it means I can envelop her with my legs as well as my arms.
Gently, Roos pushes back against me, leans to the side, and puts a hand between our bodies. A second later, and I feel her. Inside me.
The first thing I feel is relief. And it’s not just physical. It feels emotional. Like,good, that’s where she’s supposed to be. Inside me. Because I know for certain part of her has burrowed its way inside me tonight, and this feels like a physical manifestation of it.
But then she starts to move, and I feel everything else. A slight stretch. A gentle pressure. A building ache.
I move my hips so I can meet her every thrust. I look up at her as she frowns and pouts with concentration. And then she looks into my eyes, and we stay like that, holding each other physically and with our gazes.
When she lowers her head and kisses me, I wonder if she does it because it’s what I asked for, or if she had to do it because the eye contact was too intense. Too much too soon with someone you’ve just met.
I don’t care. I don’t care if Roos feels that way or if it’s just me.
Because she is kissing me – deeply, sweetly, powerfully – and I’m climbing higher and higher and higher away from the ground, away from myself and into something else, something else I don’t know and can’t predict.
“Oh, God, Mari,” she says against my teeth, and I know then that she’s dropped her role completely. She’s as gone as I am. So I squeeze my limbs harder around her, and I help her take us even higher.
When I come, it’s blinding and melting and full of the last thing I expect. Hope. Somehow, in the arms of this beautiful woman I literally bumped into randomly, I’ve found hope. I came to Amsterdam looking for it and expected to see it in the picture-perfect canals or in the modern art museums or maybe in the fucking tattoo convention, but instead, I found it in a beautiful woman with eyes the colour of morning fog.
I hold onto Roos as my climax breaks and then starts to ebb and flow. I hold onto her as she then moves quicker, harder, with more strength. I hold onto her as she stops, stills, and cries out.
