Consume Me (A Burning Desire Novel) (37 page)

"Why this particular song?"

He asked softly.

"I think it's a powerful song, also
sexy. The melody suits every aspect of our lovemaking, I don't know. I was
listening to it earlier, and it made me think about us, making love."

I explained truthfully.

"Your wish is my command Miss
Dane."

He beamed at me with a full grin.

"Now, lie back for the rest of your
massage."

I complied while he shuffled through my
playlist.

I was never going to forget that birthday,
ever.

His
hands were back on me, warm from the hot oil, he skimmed through my shoulders,
down my arms.

It felt different, sensual. My pulse
started quickening, each time he went below my back dimples; I shivered under
his soft touch. Landon was real good at it, and while I loved the massage, I
was aching for him, for his kiss, the feel of him pushing inside me with hunger
and pure lust.

I shuffled trying to sit up and quicken
the process.
‘
Lana Del Rey' ‘Burning desire’
was playing and I never felt more
inclined to acknowledge the suitability of the song in that moment.

I was burning for him.

"Keep still baby, I'm only getting
started."

I couldn't see him, my head buried in the
cradled massage table.

I could barely hold my thoughts together,
my heart thrumming in my throat. My insides started quivering, apprehending his
next move.

Just get naked, and get inside me.

He was massaging my feet, my ankles, with
exquisite tenderness, and experience.

I'd had my fair share of massage therapies
in my life, courtesy of the father's job. Back when we were living in Lebanon,
the stressful environment called for well-deserved vacation for my father, and
it was never short of a five star facility with its high-end spa and
treatments. So I was initiated to those kinds of treatments at a young age.

It gave me the fair knowledge to assert
that Mr. Davis had magical hands and experienced ones.

Probably from massaging all his other conquests.

I brushed the thought out of my head,
resigned to enjoy the moment.

After he finished my reflexive foot
massage, I heard him shuffle out of his shirt, then the zip sound of his pants.

Never, in a million years, had I imagined
what happened next. He dripped what seemed like the whole bottle of oil on me,
every inch of my back down my hips and legs.

After a beat, he was laid over me, his
front to my back, slithering all over me with his fully naked body.

His erection gliding all over me, his arms
holding his weight around my head

Landon didn't touch me with his hands, but
rather with all of his body, his skin warm and oiled all over mine, going up
and down.

I lost all ability to think, or speak.
Rendered speechless, by the sensation, the scene, I wanted to see him. I hated
the damn cradle.

Needless to say, I was a damping mess, my
insides clenched violently. He slid down and settled between my thighs and in
one swift move, he rolled me over my back.

He was a sight from hell, a sinful sight.

All gloriously naked, his body glowing,
messy hair and scorching gray gaze, hungry for me. I unraveled in the feeling.

"Every time you look at me that way,
my heart stops beating."

I admitted, my voice came out in a breath,
full of wanton.

He didn't say a word; instead, he picked
another bottle of oil, and dripped it all over my front.

Once his hands met my skin, I lost all
cogent thought again.

He slid his palms all over me, up to my
neck, then down my breasts. He lingered on my pulsing heartbeat, never taking
his eyes off me.

Slowly, his palms started sliding all over
me in a zigzag motion between my breasts, down my navel. I couldn't hold my
moans; at first, I stifled them, to avoid any indiscretion outside the room.

But it was excruciating, I wanted to cry
out my pleasure, I relished every second, every touch, and every quickened pulse
bulging under my skin.

He slowly lay over me, skin-to-skin, hot,
and warm. Gliding all over me in a slow motion, my eyes were fixated on every
move, every breath, just synchronized with him body and soul. He massaged me
with every inch of his body, his feet, his waist, his chest and managed to
massage my arms with his neck.

He slid all over me all soft and slippery,
I was all shades of turned on, and every muscle in my body was calling for the
fill of him.

I couldn't take it anymore. I thought I
was losing my mind.

Once he stilled himself, I rocked my hips
against him, stroking myself with his erection. He was big and hard.

Landon kept slipping himself. He supported
his weight on his left arm, and called for my hardened nipple between his
fingers and pinched me, hard.

I inhaled a sharp breath, stifling a loud
moan and failing.

"Shh baby,"

He said before invading my mouth in a
passionate, lingering kiss. Every time he pinched one of my nipples, I sucked
his tongue extracting groans.

"Please baby, I can't..."

I needed him..

He finally drove a finger inside.

"Fuck." he breathed out,
inserting another one.

His eyes swept up and down my body. I
levered my head, biting him in the crook of his neck, and moaning. The feel of
his thumb stroking me, with his fingers inside me was barely enough.

"Please, I want you."

I pleaded.

"I know."

His voice was raspy and low; it did
nothing to calm my boiling blood.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

I prompted, rocking against his fingers,
searching to relieve the pull gathering in my groin.

"The song, baby."

He leaned down and took one of my nipples
between his teeth and the other between his fingers. He pulled at them,
simultaneously, slowly accentuating the pressure.

The man was relentless; he was quite the
multi-tasker.

I wanted to yell at him that I couldn't
care less about the song, but the things he was doing with his hands and mouth,
I could barely breathe, let alone speak.

He accelerated his rhythm, penetrating me
with his fingers, stroking me, pulling at my nipples, taking me over the edge.
I blanked, my vision became blurry. I could feel my eyes rolling, stirring in
the back of my mind, as my orgasm seized me, powerfully, and wriggled me
endlessly, over and over again.

Holy mother of orgasms.

I was sure I lost consciousness, a
complete blackout. I flickered my eyes, my vision still a little blurry. I
blinked rapidly until Landon's face cleared; his eyes were fixed on me.

Slowly, I regained my senses, my breathing
erratic, my muscles unclenching tardily, and the tumult in my head calmed.

"What was that?"

I panted out the question, grinning.

"That was you, coming hard and dense,
beautifully."

He said unleashing his mouth on mine.

"That was..."

I searched my head to describe it; I
couldn't find any suitable expression.

"There's no word to describe it, I
need to send a memo to thesaurus and ask them about it."

He flashed me one of his
drop-dead-gorgeous smile, and slid between my thighs, he blew on my clitoris
and sent chills thought my core.

Landon sucked my sensitive skin, forcing
his tongue inside me. I wriggled under the sensation, planting my fingers in
his strands, stroking him, while he renewed the pressure in my groin.

It wasn't long before I came in his mouth,
pushing my hips against it and pulling at his hair, forcefully.

I was barely aware of my surroundings,
when I opened my eyes; he was reaching for a foil packet. He extracted one and
rolled on his glorious length.

Then, he turned to shuffle on my iPod. A
humming melody started, and he spread my legs, holding one over his shoulder.

He slowly pushed between my folds, with
his own grunt, and began thrusting inside me.

"I'll never get enough of you,
ever."

He breathed out between thrusts.

The feel of him, filling me to my core was
indescribable. I came, moaning and crying out loudly, suddenly unashamed and
careless about anyone hearing me.

That man; my man took me to places I never
knew existed, and I wanted the world to know it.

He kept his relentless rhythm, his eyes
piercing through my soul, dark and dangerous, but full of desire.
Desire for me, and I was burning for him,
he consumed me
.

"I want you to come for me, only
me."

I breathed out heavily. I was just full of
love, and lust for him.

Never, in my life had I imagined feeling
that forcefully, and powerfully about anyone.

I felt free, and alive, and courageous
enough to say the words. I wanted him to be mine, just mine.

It was my turn to claim him.

He pushed down my leg and pulled me to
him, taking possession of my mouth, he kissed me, passionately, like I was
never kissed before, like I was his, and I couldn't be more responsive even if
I said the words.

I put my arms around his neck and glued
myself to him; I couldn't get enough of him. I rocked against him. I nibbled my
way through every inch of his face, pulling at his hair. I was close again, and
I squeezed around his cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He grew bigger; I could feel the blood
pulsing through his veins. He picked up the pace, and buried his head in my neck.
His breath was as raging as mine was.

"Only for me."

I prompted.

"Only for you."

"Only for you, my Clea.”

He conceded gruffly.

I climaxed around him once more, crying
out a babbled version of his name.

My thoughts scattered all over the place.
Thoughts about him, the way he made me feel, the way he made me happy; the way
I loved him.

I’d claimed him.

He came with his own grunts, crying out my
name repeatedly against my neck.

We stilled there, straddling each other.
Our chests heaved against each other. His head still buried in the crook of my
neck, his arms around me, stroking my back.

I realized we were facing a mirror; the
reflection was haunting.

The room was all white and light green,
the drapes, the sheets, the rugs, it was vibrating with light and life.

Other than a massage table, there was a
stool and another table, on which there were all the necessary material, oils,
sheets, towels and a loudspeaker to which my iPod was connected. He'd put the
song on repeat.

I memorized every detail of the scenery.

He pressed light kisses from my neck, up
my cheek and down my mouth. I pulled at his hair, bringing him at eye level
with me.

I could see his eyes clearly; they were a
panacea of gray, light and taupe, his irises circled in a light green, almost
hazel.

"Hi."

I mumbled lazily.

"Hi yourself."

He said with a lopsided grin.

"Are you okay?"

"Quit it with the weird
after-sex-question."

It always frustrated me.

"I feel fine, over the moon,
floating, with you. Look at us."

I motioned to the mirror. His eyes fell on
our reflection, and I followed his gaze.

"Beautiful." He breathed.

"Yes, you are."

I prompted teasingly, but I meant it.

"Would you mind if we never leave
this place?"

I feigned hesitance then looked up at him
with a full-on-grin.

"No, I don't think I would."

"Good, let's stay like this,
forever."

Forever...

The word shook me to my core. I knew he
didn't mean it, but the insinuation alone had me all flustered.

He talked too fast; a few seconds later, a
knock came through the door and a Russian accent prompted us that our extra
thirty-five minutes had been over for fifteen minutes.

I giggled, still in his arms.

"Too bad we're not home, we need to
go."

He stilled me, he had been buried inside
me, didn't move one inch.

"I don't care, I'm not leaving."

He announced decisively.