felt better.
“Can you get your legs open for me?” he asked gently, and I actually felt the wave of wet that saturated between my legs as I did as he asked. I didn’t have a lot of room but I gave him what I could.
“That’s it,” he whispered, one hand swooping over my belly and in. I braced for his fingers to touch me there, or better yet, to invade but they swept feather-light along the inside juncture of hip and thigh and that was when it began.
Minutes that seemed like hours of just that.
Raiden watching my face, his hands moving on me, coming close to the good stuff, gliding along the side of my breast but then not touching my nipple, knuckles grazing the underside of my breast but not hitting the target, fingertips sliding up the inside of my thigh only to go away right when I thought they’d find me.
It was brilliant. It was torture. The longer it went on, the more it thrilled and frustrated me.
I whimpered and lifted my hands to clutch his shoulders, but before they made it to their destination, Raiden ordered, “Clasp them behind your back.”
“What?” I panted.
His hands spanned my ribs again, holding firm and his eyes locked with mine.
“Do it, baby.”
Oh God, this was hot.
This was scary.
This was crazy.
I clasped my hands behind my back.
One of his hands slid in, down; his fingers went through the hair between my legs and whispered over my clit then it was gone.
A reward.
An infinitesimal reward.
God.
Torture.
Brilliant.
“Good, Hanna, now keep your hands clasped. No matter what you feel, what I do, what you want. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
“Good, baby, now arch your back for me.”
Oh God. God. God. God.
I arched my back for him and he immediately leaned in and added his lips and tongue to the torture his fingers were perpetrating. They moved, they touched, glided, grazed and they did this an eternity before just the tip of his tongue glided over my nipple.
I was so primed, heat bolted through me and I whimpered, “Raiden.”
“Keep arched for me, honey,” he murmured to the skin between breasts.
He kept a hand giving nothing but constantly toying between my legs, the other one held me at the hip, and then suddenly his mouth closed over my nipple and he pulled deep.
I was so ready. I needed that so much, my entire body bucked. I cried out, my hands came unclasped and I almost drove them into his hair to hold him to me before I remembered, pulled it together and clasped them behind me again.
He stopped suckling.
No!
“Raiden.” It was a plea.
“Stay still, Hanna.”
“Sweetheart—”
Another glide of just the tip of his tongue over my nipple; my clit pulsed, my body jerked and I moaned.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
Oh God, oh God.
God.
More toying, more nothing, all of it full of promise; more torment, then both of Raiden’s hands slid back to my ribs, his mouth moved from me and I tipped my head down to see his tipped back.
“Climb on, baby.”
Finally.
I didn’t hesitate. I put a knee to the bed on one side of his hips, one on the other side and settled in.
“Hold onto my shoulders,” he ordered and I put my hands on his shoulders.
His hand went between my legs, and no fooling around, he drove two fingers inside.
Oh yes.
Yes.
Finally!
I gasped, my head fell forward and hit his shoulder and his turned so his growl went directly into my ear.
“Ride those.”
I rode them. Oh God, did I ride them. My head turned, my face pressed into his neck. My hands grasping his shoulders, I rode his fingers and I did it desperately because I needed it. I needed it to hold me together. I needed it because I was coming apart at the seams.
“Stop,” Raiden demanded.
“Oh, honey, please, no,” I gasped.
“Stop, Hanna.”
I stopped on a mew of reckless despair, but I got more instantly.
“Free me,” he ordered.
I lifted up, looked in his eyes and he was shifting. His hand to the back of his jeans, he pulled out his wallet.
Oh yes.
Thank God, yes.
He unearthed a condom, tossed the wallet on the floor as I held his eyes and clumsily worked his jeans.
I finally got them as I needed them and pulled him free.
His cock was big, long, thick and rock-hard, and I wanted it inside me.
“Take the packet, Hanna, and roll it on me.” He barely finished his order when I snatched the packet out of his hand, but he said, “Slow, baby.”
Darn.
I looked