Page 71 of Captive Heart: Armani
If only she knew. “I’m fine. How’s Juliana doing?”
“Still shaken, but she’s settled into her room now. There are guards posted outside her window and at her bedroom door. That made her feel a little better.”
“Good.” I beckon her closer. “Come here.”
She does, and I wrap my arm around her waist and press my forehead to her abdomen. Her hands slide into my hair as the warmth of her body radiates against my skin. I take a deep breath, just soaking up the moment.
Lifting the hem of her shirt, I kiss her soft skin, taking my time as I trail my lips over her belly and below her ribs. When I slide her leggings down, she widens her stance so I can kneel between her legs. I tug her panties to the side and lap at her pussy with my tongue, just enough to tease her. But she’s already soaking wet and ready for me, and it’s not long before she’s digging her nails into my scalp, her soft moans stripping me of my self-control.
My cock is hard and aching as I pick her up and carry her to the bed. She looks up at me with open desire and I let my towel drop first, just to wind her up even more, before I finish undressing her. I could slip right into her like a hot knife through butter, but I want to make this last. So I do.
I start at her feet, then move slowly up her calves, using my hands and mouth to trace and kiss and worship every angle, every curve, every line of her frame. The ticklish backs of her knees, her silky inner thighs, her suckable hipbones. That smooth belly, her rib cage, the underside of her perfect breasts. Her body is a revelation.
For the first time I can remember, I don’t have the urge to be dominant or controlling. I want only to memorize her scent, her taste, the feeling of her body beneath me. Most of all, I don’t want her to forget me. I’m making a memory she can hold on to forever.
Candi arches against me as I gently knead her nipples, kissing my way back down to the V of her thighs so I can bury my face between her legs. I know I could easily fuck her into an orgasm in two minutes flat, but again, I take my time. Licking, sucking, nibbling. Thrusting my tongue inside her until she’s so close I can literally taste it.
That’s when I roll over onto my back and urge her to sit on my face. I want her to ride my tongue, to grind her clit against my nose, to think of nothing but taking her pleasure from me. She’s slow at first, hesitant. As if she’s never done this before. Maybe she hasn’t. For some reason, the thought that I’m the first man to give her oral this way turns me on even more.
I slide my hands up to her hips to guide her, coaxing her to move faster. Her pace starts to increase, and so do her moans. She’s hot and slick against my tongue, and I revel in the sweet taste of her juices, encouraging her with lusty groans, making sure she knows how much this is getting me off. The sound of her breathless gasps tells me she’s barely hanging on. But I know exactly how to push her off the edge.
Moving my hands to grip her ripe, round ass, I push and pull her over my lips and tongue, harder, faster.Come for me,I think.Come for me now. She starts to tremble as she grinds, as if she can hear my thoughts, and I can tell she’s right on the cusp. Time to finish her off.
I slide one finger to her asshole, circling the puckered skin there just long enough to prepare her, and then plunge inside. She instantly shatters, crying my name. She’s coming so hard, I can feel the walls of her pussy contracting around my tongue, her asshole tightening in tandem around my pumping finger. My groans are muffled, my breathing labored, my tongue aching, and my balls have to be bluer than they’ve ever been, but I don’t stop until she’s done riding out her climax.
Climbing off me, she curls up on her side and faces me with a dreamy little smirk on her face.
“That was…” But she doesn’t finish the sentence. She just shakes her head.
“Amazing,” I supply. She nods. “Incredible. Earth-shattering.” She nods again. “Your husband is a sex god.”
That gets a laugh out of her.
“Maybe,” she says coyly.
I should be satisfied, but it’s not enough. I haven’t given her enough.
Running a finger over her swollen clit, I move her onto her back and then straddle her.
“That’s good,” she sighs, her eyes fluttering.
I switch to my thumb, rubbing her clit the way she likes as I line up the tip of my cock against her opening. She’s soaking wet. I want her so bad, my mouth is practically watering.
“Tell me,” I command. I want to hear her say that she wants me. Wants my cock.
But when her eyes open and she locks her gaze on mine, what she says instead is, “I love you, Armani.”
A groan works from my throat and I slide into her without even thinking, desperate to connect to her on the deepest level possible. For a moment I stay there, right where I am, buried to the hilt, neither of us breaking eye contact.
“I…” I start to say, but I can’t do it.
Because I know this is goodbye. I don’t want to make it hurt any worse.
For her or for me.
“I know,” she whispers, looping her arms around my neck to pull me down for a kiss.
Breathing her in, returning each gentle kiss, I start to thrust. Not fast. Not hard. Slow, steady, deep, true. As if I can fuck my love into her. I hope she receives the message.
