The Beginning of Everything by Kristen Ashley Page 0,141
down saliva from a suddenly full mouth.
At the top of the steps, he turned, sat on the edge of his bed, opened his long legs and guided me to standing in between.
He then took up my other hand, and holding both, tipped his head back to look up at me.
“You are nervous,” he whispered.
I stared into dark eyes that were soft with tenderness and empathy.
And I felt the tension ease from my shoulders.
“A little,” I whispered in return.
“We will kiss more, my bride. And that is all if that is all you’re ready for.” He pulled me the tiniest bit closer. “And know this, Silence, for I refer to tonight and tomorrow and for as long as you need to get used to this intimacy we will share. I am ready. I desire you. I want to know your taste. Your mysteries. But if you are not, that means we are not. Is this something you understand?”
It was.
It was something I understood.
And something I found incredibly generous.
And beautiful.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Then kiss me, Silence, and guide our way tonight.”
Could I kiss him?
He let my hands go and sat there, his eyes steady on me, our time together brief, just a snatch in what I hoped would be a lifetime of knowing each other.
But he had shown me nothing but interest, respect, kindness, protectiveness, gentleness and desire.
Thus, I bent forward, resting my hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the heat of his body, the power of his muscles, and dropped my lips to his.
Mars allowed this.
But he did not take hold on my body.
He did not press anything from me.
That was when I touched the tip of my tongue to his lips.
They opened.
I slid inside.
He tasted warm and musky and delicious.
He also made a low noise I felt in regions south of my belly.
So I pressed my lips harder to his, tilting my head, sliding my hand up into his hair at the back.
He put both hands to my hips.
I liked their weight. Their warmth. The steadying feel of them.
I didn’t know how, but nevertheless, I made an attempt to coax his tongue into my mouth.
Mars didn’t make me work at it.
He gave it to me.
I sucked it deeper.
And gods, but I loved that stud in his tongue.
A lower, rougher noise rumbled into my mouth as his tongue played with mine.
I gave him more of my weight in my hand at his shoulder, this resulting in his hands sliding to the small of my back, one gliding up my spine.
I liked his touch.
So much, I trembled. And it was a trembling that felt marvelous to me.
I bent my elbow and gave him more weight.
Mars fell back, wrapping his arms around me, so I fell with him, to land on his chest.
Oh.
All that hard man beneath me.
So, so…
Lovely.
I lifted my lips from his and whispered, “Mars.”
He rolled me so I was on my back and he was partially on me.
Oh.
My.
So lovely, that hard man on me.
“Mars,” I breathed.
And he kissed me.
It was deeper, sweeter, his hands roaming my sides, my hips, my ribs.
I pressed up into him, trying to share I wanted more.
He in turn pressed into me and I felt it. Something I might fear, but in that moment, with him as he was, us as we were, I did not.
It made me feel powerful and beautiful and womanly.
So I met the hardness at his hips with my body, arching into it.
“Silence,” he growled against my lips.
“Mars,” I whispered against his.
We were looking into each other’s eyes.
I noticed some unusual red in his that had to be a reflection from a lantern before whatever question he was asking was answered and I took more of his weight.
I also got his mouth back.
His tongue.
And this was no longer a gentle, exploratory dance.
There was hunger.
I knew what it was instantly.
And it was utterly enchanting.
I met it with mouth and touch, our tongues dueling, my hands wandering the skin of his back, tracking the slopes, riding the dips, not discovering, claiming.
He rolled off, pulling me up, righting us in bed, falling to his back and drawing me over him.
And there was so much of him.
I’d had his mouth.
I wanted more.
I dipped my head and took his flat, brown nipple.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
Oh no.
I’d done something wrong.
My head shot up.
His hands came under my arms and yanked me up before he took my mouth again, his fingers diving into my hair. I could feel the pins loosen, the curls falling, the ribbon sliding out, but only vaguely.