Always Been You

And then his mouth softened, and it was no longer a punishment but a reward, and she kissed him back, sliding her arms around his waist, pressing up against him with helpless longing she didn’t quite understand.

She needed to be here. Locked tight against him, his mouth on hers, demanding nothing but complete surrender. She made a quiet little sound in the back of her throat, and surrender it was. His mouth and hands subdued her, not by force but by skilfully using against her own desires.

He hurriedly stripped them off their clothes and carried her to the bed. Then he kissed her again. The sensual brush of his mouth and hands against her skin induced a voluptuous sense of languor. His tongue skimmed her nipples and ripples of pleasure spread through her body.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

Her flesh seemed acutely sensitized by his touch, the lazy ripples intensifying in depth and urgency as his lips moved delicately over her stomach, finding the hollows against her hip-bones. Suddenly she was very hot, her skin burning, damp with the prickles of perspiration breaking out on it, the languor gone, the swift resurgence of desire making her move restlessly against Jensen’s touch.

He made a sound in his throat, a primitive male growl of appreciation. His fingers touched the fine, silky triangle of hair between her thighs and she shuddered, her stomach muscles locking in a fierce spasm of desire.

She wanted to touch him, but he was out of reach, the satin sheen of his skin highlighted by the dim light in the room as he moved, pushing back the duvet until it fell off the bed.

Her body ached with primitive need, tense with the frustration of the unwanted cessation of her pleasure. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but the words were impossible to form. But oh she felt so good.

She wanted him to come back to her, to take her in his arms and fill her body with the hard heat of his flesh, but instead he knelt at the bottom of the bed, his palm cupping her foot, his thumb stroking slowly over her toes. She quivered involuntarily in response to his touch, her toes curling protestingly. His bulk blocked out the light, his expression hidden from her.

She shivered beneath the slow caress of his mouth against her skin. His tongue investigated the sensitive nerve endings behind her knee, her muscles locking treacherously as she drew in a sharp breath. His fingers caressed the inside of her thigh, turning her muscles to liquid jelly.

Hot quivers of pleasure burned her skin, her mind trying to deny the effect he was having on her at the same time as her body ached for more.

A pulse beat feverishly deep inside her. A small moan that could have been delight or despair was torn from her throat. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to go on.

Quickening ripples of desire gripped her muscles and his hand moved to lie against her stomach to register its subtle quiver. The loss of his intimate touch made her tense with frustration. Perspiration soaked her skin, her nails curling painfully into her palms as she moved her head frantically from side to side on the pillow, and she closed her eyes as she moaned his name. What was he trying to do to her?

“Tell me you forgive me, Kat.” He said. His voice was harsh with tension. The hand that was spread against her stomach tautened. For a moment she was tempted to deny him–and herself–but her desire was stronger than her hurt pride. Whether she said the words or not, her body had already betrayed her.

“I forgive you, Jensen.” She said, The words seemed to be dragged from some place deep inside her, hurting her throat and making her eyes prickle with unwanted tears.

Just saying them seemed to relax her almost unbearable tension; a dull sense of misery overwhelming her desire. She suddenly shivered, disliking both herself and Jensen. She moved beneath his hand, intending to drag herself away, her misery pierced shockingly by the pressure of Jensen’s hands pushing her back against the bed, his voice raw with an emotion that was unfamiliar to her as he muttered against her skin, “I need you, Kat.”

And then his tongue moved delicately against her sensitive flesh, caressing her with exquisite care. All the breath seemed to quit her lungs at once, leaving her gasping for air, her intended protest lost beneath the sharp high sob of pleasure that rasped her throat.

She wanted him to stop; she wanted to escape the flush of moist heat engulfing her body; to evade the pulsing rhythm passing from his mouth to her flesh, but more than any of this she wanted him to go on inducing the frantic pleasure absorbing her.

Her hips writhed and twisted in his hands, possessed of a life divorced from her mind, the hoarse sharp sounds of pleasure splintering from her throat unfamiliar to her as he continued to caress her intimately.