A Reaper's Love (WindWorld) (6 page)

“I am at your command, milady,” he said.
“Do with me as you will.”

She took hold of his hands and laced her
fingers with his, pressed his arms to the bed to either side of his head and
leaned in to take his mouth. The moment her tongue slipped between his lips,
his cock shot hard and thick and leapt against her taut belly.

She took complete control of him—her mouth
and tongue doing lustful things to his body with no more than her kisses. Her
thighs were locked against his hips, her legs bracketing his and as her kisses
pressed deeper, hotter, she began to rotate her groin against his.

He groaned low in his throat and his
fingers tightened around hers. He met her tongue thrust for thrust. He nibbled
her bottom lip and licked her upper one. He growled when she caught his lip and
suckled. His hips left the bed in invitation.

“Um hum,” she said against his mouth then
dragged his hands above his head. She released his mouth and looked down at
him—her eyes boring into his. “You keep your hands right where I put them.
Okay?”

He nodded, unable to speak for his chest
was rising and falling so rapidly he thought he might well pass out if another
breath of air left his body.

She unhooked their fingers to unbutton his
shirt. Gently she peeled it over his shoulders and laid it at the foot of the
bed. Slowly—infinitely slowly—trailed her palms down the undersides of his
arms, over his shoulder until her fingers were on his pecs.

He tensed and had to school his face not to
show the terror her touching him there brought instantly to mind.

“Relax,” she cooed to him, so unaware of
the ugly things, the painful things that had been done to him.

He couldn’t tell her. Most likely would
never tell her.

“I’m not going to hurt you, baby,” she said
as though some of his fear had leached into her passion.

“I know,” he whispered and forced his body
to relax.

She smiled and her fingers began the
movements that he had stored so carefully in his memory. He closed his eyes as
she circled each nipple without touching it. Slowly clockwise then reversing
the movement in slightly widening circles before closing in once more. Time and
again she neared the hardening little nub but didn’t touch it. He
squirmed—wanting her to,
needing
her to.

“Do you remember the first time we made
love?”

He opened his eyes to find her looking at
him so sweetly. “Aye,” he said. “I’ll not forget it.”

She arched her brow as though about to
impart a joke. “This is like our first time all over again except I’m playing
your part.”

He went back to that night and realized he
had done the exact same thing to her. She had been all but writhing beneath him
before he ever put finger to nipple.

“You’re evil,” he said.

“You’ve no idea.”

She caught his left nipple—which had always
been the least sensitive—between her thumb and index finger. No pressure. She
just held it gently as she stared into his eyes. He knew what was coming next
and the anticipation made his cock throb.

She increased the compression just a bit
then backed off. Again and backed off. Increased the pressure a little, backed
off, and then gently twisted.

“
Chere
…” He sighed deeply for he
knew she was going to release him and she did, her fingers sliding like a wisp
of air across his chest to his right nipple.

The circling began and he realized he was
moving his hips beneath her in a constricted circle. He was hard as a rock and
his balls were tight. By the time she closed her fingers on his nipple, he was
drawing in short gulps of air.

“You tormented me for nearly twenty
minutes,” she said.

“Mea culpa,” he said and truly meant it.

She plucked his nipple with just enough
force to give him a bit of a sting and he widened his eyes—afraid the slight
pain would bring back unwanted remembrances from his incarceration but before
it could, she was pushing her body down his and her mouth took over for her
fingers.

“Mother of God!” he hissed between his
teeth as she began sucking.

Her tongue—sweet Merciful Alel—her hot
little tongue was flicking over that highly sensitive nipple then her lips were
drawing it into her mouth. Her teeth closed over it and he bucked as though
he’d been spurred. Her light giggle brought a growl from somewhere deep in his
chest.

“Be good or I’ll stop,” she warned as she
switched her attention to his other nipple. Had he thought it less sensitive?
Hell no, it wasn’t! It was just as alive with nerve endings that were doing a
dance of their own against his chest wall. He squirmed as she nibbled him and
went as still as death as she slithered down another few inches while she
placed hot kisses all along his tiger line to his navel.

“You know what a tiger line is, Tater?”
she’d asked.

“It is like a drum line, Chere?”
he’d responded.

“Idjit. It’s that line of hair that that
runs from your chest down the middle of your stomach all the way to the pubic
hair.”

“I thought that was the happy trail.”

“Nope. That only goes from the stomach
down.”

Oh the things you could learn from a horny
woman who spent too much time looking at the pictures of movie stars, he’d
thought.

He yelped and jumped as her tongue darted
into his navel.

“Pay attention!” she warned, somehow
knowing his mind had wandered.

He swallowed hard. Her mouth was so close
to where he really wanted it to be.

But there was an elastic waistband between
her mouth and his cock and all that cotton fabric that was covering his
straining erection. Her chin was resting on the top of his shaft, pinning it
down as she swirled her tongue around and around the deep indention of his
bellybutton.

“
Chere
, please!” he pleaded,
gripping the pillow under his head with enough strength to pop it.

“You paid very close attention to my
navel,” she said. “I’m returning the favor.”

She blew her hot breath across the wetness
left by her tongue and he shuddered hard.

She pushed herself up and reached her hands
behind her to unhook her bra. As she did, he held his breath, waiting for those
glorious globes to appear. The bra came loose and she brought her hands around
to cup her breasts as the straps slid slowly from her shoulders. His palms
itched to snatch the garment from her, to mold themselves to her flesh. With
infinite slowness, she coyly slid one arm free of one strap, then the other arm
was free and she was sitting just above his knees with the cups of the bra
pressed loosely to her chest.

“I need to see,” he said. He licked his
lips. “Jesus,
chere
. I need to—”

She let the bra fall away and her breasts
jiggled lightly as they were bared. He could feel his fangs lengthening in his
mouth. She let him look his fill then hooked her fingers in the waistband of
his pajamas and tugged then down over his hard erection. He sprang free so
powerfully it made him gasp.

“What a tasty-looking little treat that
is,” she said and he remembered saying those exact words when he had seen her
clit for the first time.

He was trembling as she continued pulling
his pajama bottoms down, walking on her knees until she was at the foot of the
bed and he had to draw his own knees up to accommodate her divesting him of his
pants. She tossed them to the floor and when he would have straightened his
legs, she shook her head.

“Nope, that’s not how it happened,” she
said, her hands wrapped around his ankles as she pushed his legs apart as far
as she needed them to go.

His heart was lurching in his chest as she
crawled up the bed between his spread knees until she could insinuate her hands
under his ass. Though she didn’t lift him as he had her that day so long ago,
she did look up at him to bestow the same kind of devilish grin he had given
her before putting his tongue to the wet folds between her legs.

The moment her tongue touched the underside
of his balls and began its slow trip up to the tip of his straining head, he
was shivering, the pillow twisting violently in his clenched fists. His back
arched as her fingers dug into the tender flesh of his ass for her hot, wet
tongue was hitting every erogenous zone he had. The sensation was making his
toes curl and his body sweat. He swept his tongue around his lips—felt the
scrape of his fangs against it—as she made that slow journey up his cock again
and again as though he were an ice cream cone.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, his eyes rolling
back in his head.

She swirled her tongue over his balls.
Licked them. Nudged them with her chin. Sucked. Lapped at him like a little
kitten at a bowl of milk. Flicked her tongue again and again along the ridge
between the two halves until he was squirming.

Then she moved up a little ways on the bed
and took him in her mouth all the way to the base, her throat relaxing
completely.

“
Fuck!
” he yelled and clapped a hand
over his own mouth.

Heart slamming behind his ribs, he writhed
beneath her hot tongue and wet palate as she drew on him and nibbled and slid
her tongue into his slit. She took one hand from under his ass and circled it
at the base of his cock then bobbed her head up and down on him until he
thought he would go crazy. He was straining not to come—wanting the pleasure to
go on and on for as long as he could hold out. Enjoying the exquisite torture
that was turning him into a mushy puddle of need. His hand left his mouth and
tangled in her hair as she drew forcefully. His heels were digging into the
mattress, his hips completely off the bed, his back torqued.

“Mmmm.” The sound she made around his
iron-hard flesh made the head of his cock tingle and before he could stop
himself, he was coming.

His thighs tightened as wave after wave of
cum jetted from him. He was grinding his groin against her mouth each time her
lips met the base of his cock. She was swallowing each jet as it came and when
he finally shuddered one last time and fell limp, she began licking the cum from
his cock with slow licks that caused him to whimper from the sensations that
were still rocketing through him. When she was finished, she slid up his body
and took his mouth again. The taste of his own juices upon her tongue was a
heady sensation that made him see stars behind his eyes. The scent of it rocked
him.

She lifted her mouth from his. “How’s your
weenie now, Tater Tot?”

He swallowed hard. “Nothing…” He tried
again. “Nothing wrong with my weenie. How’s your cunt?”

She tilted her head slightly to one side as
though thinking. “Feeling a bit empty, actually.”

“Then let’s remedy that.”

He had her on her back and partially under
him before she could take another breath.

“Man, you’re not getting any slower in your
old age,” she said, her eyes wide. His slow grin made her cock an eyebrow.
“Gonna show me how it’s done, big boy?”

“After I get you out of these pants,” he
said.

When he’d made good on that and she lay
stretched out naked on his bed, he threw a leg over hers and wedged himself
between them, spreading her long legs wide. Carefully, he lowered his weight
atop her—pinning her hands to either side of her head as she had his—then
writhed his groin over hers.

“You are mine,” he said. “Do you know
that?”

“I do.”

He shook his head. “No,
chere
. Do
you
know
that?”

She tightened her fingers around his. “Yes,
Taylor. I know that. I am yours. I always have been and I always will be.”

“Best you remember that, woman,” he said,
swirling his hips atop hers. He dragged his cock along her folds and felt it
beginning to thicken.

“Not likely to forget it,” she replied.
“You’ve marked me for life.”

He dipped his head to claim her lips.
Unlike her kiss, his was slow and soft and positioned this way and then that.
His tongue slid between her lips ever so gently then flicked across the bottom
lip. Slow and easy—as though he were savoring, tasting her mouth instead of
kissing her. His lips slid from hers along her jawline to her ear and he caught
her lobe between his teeth. She sucked in a breath then shivered as he flicked his
tongue slowly but firmly inside. He worked his way back along her jaw, across
her chin and the up the other jaw to relish her other ear in the same exact way
then returned to her mouth to give her a deeper, firmer kiss—his tongue
invading.

And that was the last little bit of
softness he extended for he knew how his woman liked to be taken and it wasn’t
with courtly manners or gentle maneuvers. She was a hot-blooded Irish lass with
a willing body made for sin. He snatched his hand from hers and cupped her
breast, lowered his head and took her nipple with a hard, tight pull that had
her free hand burying itself roughly in his hair.

“Yes,” he said around the constriction of
her nipple and set to work doing to her body what she had done to his.

Alternating fiercely between her breasts,
he brought her nipples to hard nubs that were straining toward his tongue and
lips with each pass from left to right. He let go of her other hand and slammed
both hands under her ass, jerked her up to meet him as he flowed down her body
and locked his mouth tight to her clit.

“Taylor!” she cried out and now both hands
were clamped in his hair as his tongue flicked and probed and licked and fucked
and lapped and swirled from the bottom to the top of her cunt and back again.
Pressing quick little flicks across her clit, he edged one hand over until he
insinuated his thumb into the tight little space between her cheeks. Her hands
jerked in his hair and he growled a warning but his thumb was already inside
her and she was lifting her legs to lock around his shoulders.