down my jaw, my throat, all the way to the swell of my breasts. Licking a line of fire to my nipple, he circled the peaked bud, teased it with his teeth, then closed his mouth over it and sucked. I arched into his touch, and my inner muscles clenched around his cock before they relaxed...and the stretch of his girth lessened.
He rocked his hips forward, just a little, but enough to seat himself further inch by inch as I adjusted to his size. His mouth continued wreaking sensual havoc on my breasts while each movement of his dick inside me fired off sparks of renewed desire until I panted, angling my hips to meet his shallow thrusts.
Taking my cue, he made those thrusts deeper, more powerful. I gasped, clutched his shoulder as he nipped at my neck, his hand now on my breast, thumb flicking my nipple. Every stroke of his hips rubbed against my clit, drove my arousal higher, higher, higher. My legs trembled with the need to draw him deeper.
In a move too fast for me to even process, he pulled out and flipped me yet again, positioning me on my hands and knees. Spreading my legs wide, he gripped my hips with one hand, the other on my back, and pushed into me again.
I moaned, surrendering to the prickling sensation rushing outward from the renewed erotic invasion, the deeper angle. Hard, he rode me so hard my entire body shook, and I loved every damn second of it. Arching my spine, I threw back my head, my breath matching his quickening thrusts.
Lust and pressure and the promise of bliss coiled inside me. I just needed...needed…
Sharp stinging on my scalp as he gripped my hair, pulled me up until my back met his chest. His other hand slid around to my belly, dipped between my legs, his fingers clamping down on my clit while he continued to pump into me.
I detonated.
There’s no other word for it. I splintered at the seams from an explosion of pleasure.
Faster, harder, his thrusts grew wild and uncontrolled, his own need finally unleashed. My front met the mattress again as he pushed me down while he gripped my hips and rode me until I saw stars.
I barely noticed the moment he found his own pleasure, my mind too foggy with post-orgasmic ecstasy. I just all but collapsed as he savored his climax with slowing thrusts until it was only his hands holding my hips up. My muscles had effectively turned to cooked spaghetti, my bones liquefied.
A long, slow stroke of his hand over my spine, the caress of dark power on my senses. I wheezed with my face half planted into the mattress. My hair was tangled all around my head, and my arms and hands—I wasn’t quite sure what they were doing, where they even were. Did I still have arms? I couldn’t feel them.
Maybe they’d melted.
I considered that option. I couldn’t feel my legs either, for that matter.
Only Azazel’s hands on my hips, and the devastating aftermath of orgasmic destruction in my nether regions.
His fingers tightened their grip as he pulled out, and I groaned at the delicious sting of movement against my battered inner muscles, my sensitized flesh...and at the sudden emptiness, the cooling lick of air on my skin.
With more care than I’d anticipated, he guided my hips down, made sure my liquified—melted?—limbs flowed into a comfortable position. The mattress shifted as he likely moved off the bed. I couldn’t see. My face was still mostly plastered to the sheet, and my hair hid what little vision I’d have had.
Floating. I was floating.
The mattress dipped again. A touch between my legs, something warm and wet and soft, like a washcloth. Still, I hissed at the sensation, too much for my raw skin.
“Shh.” His hand on my hip. “I’m just cleaning you.”
“Oh,” I rasped, my voice hoarse. “No one’s ever done that for me.”
“That’s because no one’s ever fucked you limp before.”
I uttered a dry laugh. “Touché.”
The touch of the washcloth vanished, as did his hand from my hip, and he moved off the bed again.
I floated some more.
Until he gently turned me on my back, pushed the tangled strands of hair off my face, and pressed something in my hand. I turned my head and squinted.
“It’s a glass of water,” he said with a hint of amusement.
“I know—I was just—so that’s where my hand is.”
The look he gave me bordered on concerned. He watched me squint some more