Page 42 of Snowed In with the Runaway Bride

Hands shaking, she obeyed, only to bite back a scream when his mouth found the center of her pleasure, sending her spiraling even higher while he licked and sucked, keeping her hips steady over him.

One hand moved, and she moaned again as his long fingers slipped inside her, filling an aching emptiness she had not realized was there. She moved to the rhythm he set, knuckles white where she clung to the headboard. Following a primal hunger she had only experienced in her dreams before now. Finally understanding what it was her body craved from him, had craved for days.

At last, the spiral shattered into a thousand pleasure-filled shards and she went limp, quivers running through her as Hugo helped her ease herself down onto the bed next to him, clinging to him like the survivor of a storm.

Hugo was harder than he’d ever been in his life, more aroused than he’d ever been, but the primal satisfaction he felt knowing he had branded her in a way no man ever had before made it worth it. She melted bonelessly against him and he wrapped his arms fully around her, her soft breasts and belly pressing against him as she regained her breath.

At last, she looked up at him, glowing and heavy-eyed. “That was lovely."

"You're welcome." She tugged at his hair, and he laughed. His fully-erect cock pushed against her side, and she rolled over, frowning, to peer down at him in the half-light from the fireplace.

"That doesn't look very comfortable."

"It isn't," he admitted with a grimace.

To his shock, she reached for him with a curious hand, and he shrank back instinctively.

She pulled her hand back, her flinch of embarrassment evident even in the firelight. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"It's all right,” he reassured her. “I just... I don't want you to do anything you don't want to."

Color rose in her face as her pupils flared. She looked down at him, and then back up to meet his gaze with hers, her expression serious.

"What if I want to?"

His cock twitched at the very thought of her hands on him, and he swallowed hard.

"You don't have to."

"I know." She reached out again and, slowly, he sank back against the pillows onto his back, giving her the same access to his body she had given him.

"I know I don't have to. I want to."

Her hands spread over his chest, and he sighed as she explored, combing her hands through the thicket of coarse hair, tracing it down the middle of his ridged abdomen to where it spread out again around his navel and then back up again to trace the paired tattoos of two birds with their wings spread to fly placed just below his collarbone. Each bird was no bigger than the palm of her hand.

“What are these?”

“Swallows,” he said, holding back a groan when her fingertips skimmed along the tattooed lines.

Her head tilted to the side, dark hair streaming over her shoulder, and his palms itched to bury his hands in it. “Did it hurt to get them?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

“What do they mean?”

Unable to resist her nearness, his hand stroked her back and she shivered a little, eyes still focused on the tattoos.

“Swallows guide sailors home.”

“Oh.” Her eyes glowed down at him, and he feared he had said too much. But instead of pursuing the question of swallows, she leaned down to kiss them, tongue tracing each line before moving down his chest to stroke her cheek against the hair she found there. Her mouth followed her hands and she worked her way down his body, leaving trails of fire with each touch.

She kissed his hip and sat up to gaze down at him, hand hovering before resting on his thigh. Again, she put out a tentative finger to stroke him, and he groaned at the teasing pressure.

"Show me," she said. "Show me what to do."

Shaking a little, he took her hand and showed the motion, his hand over hers, helping her stroke up and down. She squeezed, and his hand fell away, back arching. Her strokes became more confident and she watched his reactions intently, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, swollen breasts swaying with every motion as she hovered over him. She leaned down to kiss him, and he knew she must taste herself on his mouth when her tongue met and danced with his. It excited him almost unbearably, and he let his hand tangle in her silky hair as he ravished her mouth.