Her nipple was red and engorged. His lips covered its mate, sucked and licked and nipped as his hands roamed over her thighs and finally tore the panties from her hips.
Ria almost orgasmed. She had never had her panties ripped from her before. It was so sexual, so wicked she felt her juices flooding her vagina as her clit heated and throbbed with a desperate demand for his touch.
"Beautiful." He leaned back, allowed his fingers to brush over the dark curls between her thighs. "So soft and warm. So wet." The dampened curls clung to his fingers.
Ria watched at he touched her, then watched as she touched him. Her fingers pressing against his hard abs, feeling silky sun-kissed flesh, toughened skin and tight muscle.
His fingers parted the swollen flesh between her thighs as hers moved to his belt. She wanted him naked. She want to touch.
A cry fell from her lips. Her gaze jerked between her thighs where he was slowly, slowly burying two fingers inside her. Working them into her tightened channel, twisting them with sharp little movements of his wrist and wringing a whimper from her throat.
He grimaced, his lips pulling tight, the little snarl at the corner revealing a canine. Wild. Primal and wild, and he was making her wild. Her back arched and she drove herself on his fingers and cried out his name.
Long, broad fingers. Oh God, she would never be able to see a man's fingers without thinking of Mercury's. Without remembering this. The feel of him stroking inside her body, caressing her, sensitizing her until she was writhing against him, her hips churning as she fought for deeper, faster, harder.
"I'm going to taste you, Ria." The growl in his voice did shivery things to her spine that spread out through her body and echoed with painful pleasure.
She shook her head, one hand falling from the belt of his jeans to grip his wrist, to hold him in place.
"Don't stop," she panted. "Please. Please don't stop."
He thrust his fingers inside her again, deeper, harder, stronger, and she held her breath, fighting for her orgasm as he stilled just as suddenly.
He ignored her protest as he moved down her body, sliding her hips to the edge of the couch as he knelt on the floor and lowered his head.
The first touch of his tongue against her clit froze her in place, the second had her hips jerking. The third and she was lost. His tongue rasped. The faintest bit of roughness, just enough to turn excitement to sheer brutal pleasure.
Her hands latched onto his hair and she lifted to him as she felt his fingers slide free of her. His fingers retreated, and his tongue plunged deep. Her legs wrapped around his shoulders, her hips lifting as he f**ked her with hard, penetrating strokes of his tongue and growled into her flesh.
His fingers curled beneath her rear, lifting her closer, and she felt the blunted tips of those clawlike nails digging into her flesh and jerked with a pleasure so extreme it felt as though her heart was going to burst from her chest.
She was coming apart from the pleasure, from the wild, desperate need building inside her. She had to come. He had to let her come.
As he pushed his tongue inside her with fierce strokes, his thumb settled on her clit, rotated, stroked, and sent her flying into release. She was exploding into fragments and didn't care. She held on to him with both hands, held him closer and wailed out her pleasure, not even bothering to be shocked with the fact that she had never wailed in pleasure in her entire life.
"So sweet." His tongue retreated, his head lifting to kiss the violently sensitive flesh of her clit gently. That light touch had her gasping with the bolt of sensation that raced through her.
"Easy, sweetheart," he murmured, still kissing, moving lower, giving her no time to come down from her orgasm before he began building the need for another.
And he did it gently, tenderly. The softest strokes of his tongue, the gentlest kisses around her clit.
"I want to touch you," she moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders as those blunted nails, curved and powerful, raked down her thighs with primitive intensity.
"Not yet." He nipped at her thigh, causing her to whimper with the edge of pleasure/pain. "Let me taste you. Let me have you like this, Ria. Let me fill my senses with you. I want your taste, your scent with me. In my pores. The same as I'll give you mine."
A part of him.
She moaned his name as he spread her thighs farther and kissed the swollen, flushed lips of her pu**y. Then he licked her again. Inside and out.
He made her weak. He made her desperate. Her nails dug into his shoulders, scratched his flesh as the rising tide of lust began to build and churn inside her again.
She needed him. And she needed more than his hungry kisses and diabolical tongue.
Fighting for breath, she moved her hands to her br**sts, cupped them, raked her ni**les with her own fingers and felt him pause. She gripped her ni**les between her thumbs and forefingers, opened her eyes and stared back at him.
Dazed, nearly out of her mind with the need burning across every nerve ending, she watched him watch her. Watched his eyes dilate, his lips pull back from his teeth as a grumbling snarl rumbled in his throat.
He kissed his way up her body then. His hands moving to his belt, his jeans. She had only a second to glimpse the furiously flushed head of his c**k before his lips covered an aching, hard nipple and drew it into his mouth.