WinterofThorns (10 page)

“Relax, Jana!” he ordered.

She couldn’t. There was deep-seated passion
blazing at her from his blue eyes—eyes she realized too closely resembled
Seyzon’s. It felt as though her husband’s eyes were staring down at her with
accusation. She felt tears prick at the back of her eyes.

Then the prince groaned.

“The gods-be-damned it, this is not what I wanted!”

Before she could react, he had stretched
out atop her and his mouth was at her breast. She gasped as he sucked her
nipple deep into his mouth then began stabbing the tip with his hot, wet
tongue.

He sucked. He nipped. He licked and lapped
and drew harder. Not painfully so but hard enough to make her insides clench.
He moved to the other nipple—kissing his way between her breasts—and when he
latched on to it, he insinuated his knee between her legs. She could not think
of anything save his mouth on her breast as he pushed her legs apart. She knew
what he was doing but the pleasure from his attention at her breasts was
sending chills down her sides.

His hands slid from her shoulders to her
breasts and he hefted them for what she knew was better purchase for him. He
alternated his attention from one to the other with gentle tugs on her nipples
with his teeth to swirling his tongue around and around until she wanted to cry
out. The moment he scooted down her and put his lips to her navel, she bucked
beneath him.

That hot, knowing tongue was making spiral
forays into her navel as his fingers plucked at her hardened nipples. His lower
body—the hair on his chest seeming to have hands of its own—was pressed
intimately to the core of her. His broad shoulders were braced against her hips
to very effectively pin her to the bed. She snatched handfuls of the coverlet
to keep her fingers from threading through his hair to hold his head steady.
Why she longed to do that she had no idea but it seemed right somehow.

He was turning her body into something she
didn’t recognize. She ached brutally between her legs and her lower belly
continuously clenched and unclenched with ripples that made her burn at her
center. She could not prevent herself from writhing beneath him as he sustained
the unrelenting stabbing of his tongue into her navel.

“Milord,” she pleaded for the dual
assault—on navel and nipples—was almost more than she could bear.

But those sensations were nothing compared
to the one that had her hips jacking from the bed when his chin slid over her
nether curls and his mouth locked upon her most sensitive place.

“
Milord!
” she cried out and her
fingers left the coverlet to bury themselves in his hair.

What he was doing with his tongue—thrusting
rapidly and noisily at her clit then dragging it along her folds like a kitten
lapping cream—set her entire body to humming. She barely felt him nudging her
thighs apart as far as they would go. His big shoulders kept them apart as he
ran his hands under her ass and lifted her hips to meet his mouth.

He licked her.

He drew upon her flesh.

He flicked his tongue repeatedly over her
clit then dragged it along the folds.

He thrust that hot, slick muscle deep into
her cunt and she bucked as though he had spurred her.

“
Please!
” she begged, her hands
pulling at his hair. “
Stop!
”

He raised his head and the look in his eyes
was demonic.

“No,” he told her. “I’m only beginning.”

She wasn’t sure she would survive anything
more that he could do to her. Already her flesh was tingling. Her belly was
tightening with spasms. Her legs felt weak as she dug her heels into the
mattress. She drew her knees up instinctively but that only seemed to center
the pleasure more deeply into her core.

He lowered his head to slide his tongue
ruthlessly into her cunt. His fingers dug into the flesh of her ass as he began
to rotate his mouth over her.

Prickles of intense energy spread along her
thighs and traveled up into her belly. Something hot and aching settled there
and then seemed to radiate outward. She whipped her head back and forth on the
pillow, stabbed her heels into the mattress, and arched her hips, bouncing them
against his greedy mouth. She snatched her hands from his hair for fear she’d
pull out hunks of it and sank her nails into his shoulders instead. She felt
him shiver then increase the suction that seemed to be drawing something from
her body—something that made him alternately raise his head to lick his lips
then swallow hard before commencing again.

There was a need she couldn’t understand building
within her. A need she couldn’t explain. A need she felt herself speeding
toward, unable to brake. It was a precipice to which she was being hurled
without the ability to stop. She knew once she reached the edge of that precipice,
she’d tumble over into…

Only the gods knew what.

“Come for me,” he said in a low, husky
voice that vibrated through her sensitive core. “Come for me, Jana.”

“Come where?” she beseeched.

That need was spiraling out of control. It
was now an itch she could not scratch for it was deep inside her. Not even his
savage, wild tongue could reach that place. When he pulled one hand free from
her ass then insinuated it between her legs—first one finger then two pressing
inside her—the itch became unbearable. There was a momentarily sharp pinch then
he twisted his fingers until they were hooked inside her cunt and then he
touched something that set off an explosion that made her scream.

Absolute, total, complete, unqualified,
all-encompassing, unadulterated pleasure ripped through her body like a summer
lightning storm. It spiked out from her core to spread along every nerve ending
in her lower body. Multiple spasms rocketed through her with such intensity she
felt herself shattering.

The pleasure went on and on in waves that
gripped her body like a velvet vise.

Vindan sucked her clit as he moved his
fingers in and out of her. She was having a strong orgasm, her inner muscles
clamping down hard on his fingers in tight little quivers. Her juices made his
fingers slick. He wanted to withdraw them and suck the hot cream from them but
wouldn’t until the last ripple of pleasure had been wrung from her.

He knew she had barely felt the breaching
of her maidenhead. For a brief moment, he regretted it had not been his cock to
claim that treasure but he reasoned this might be best. For now, she would not feel
anything but his stretching once he slid his cock into her tight pussy.

He slowed his thrusting until she gave one
last hard shudder then lay still with her limbs loose, her hands falling away from
his shoulders.

“That’s what my woman needed.” He withdrew
his fingers and brought them to his mouth.

She was staring down at him with a look
that bordered on wonder. Her chest was heaving and those precious, lush breasts
rose and fell so beautifully he wanted to suckle them some more.

“That was the entrée, baby,” he said. “Now
for the main course.”

“Milord?” she questioned, her brows drawn
together.

“I’m going to show you what true pleasure
is, sweeting,” he told her. He lifted himself from the bed, the muscles in his
upper arms going taut.

Jana tensed as he glided his hard body over
hers until he was braced above her, staring down with eyes that were hot and
filled with desire. She felt the blood begin to pound in her ears as his right
hand lowered between them and he took hold of his shaft.

“Lift your knees, baby,” he said in that
throaty tone that allowed no resistance.

She did as he ordered and tensed as she
felt the tip of that broad head touch her core.

“There will be no pain,” he said. “Only
tightness. I’ll ease into you with care, so relax. I promise I will give you
twice the pleasure you just experienced.”

She wasn’t sure she could survive any more
pleasure than what he’d already bestowed upon her.

He gently pushed the tip of his cock
between her slick folds. He was acutely aware that she had stopped breathing,
was holding her breath in anticipation of the pain he was sure she thought was
coming.

“No pain,” he said again and went a bit
deeper.

A quiver ran through her and she twisted
the coverlet viciously in her hands.

“Jana,” he said as though about to give a
stern lecture. “Release your hold on the coverlet. I am not going to hurt you.
You’ve already given your maidenhead to me.”

A stunned look spread over her face. “I
did?” she queried, the blood leaving her face.

“Aye. When I put my fingers inside you, I
broke the membrane.”

“I didn’t feel it.”

“I didn’t mean for you to,” he said and it
wasn’t
exactly
a lie. “I told you I would take care with your entry into
womanhood.”

Her face lost some of its pallor as a light
blush tinged her cheeks. She pressed her lips together but he caught just a
hint of gratitude in her lovely eyes.

“Now, let me love you as you were meant to
be loved.”

He pushed deeper—giving her time to adjust
to his thickness—and held until he felt her muscles loosening around him.

He went a bit deeper, easing into her with
care until he was in as far as her channel would allow him. Once more he held
himself still although it took every ounce of restraint to do so. He ached to
piston into her hot sheath with deep, sure strokes but he knew better. Instinct
warned him to go slowly, to be gentle, though it was costing him. Sweat had
popped out on his upper lip and his forehead.

Slowly, he began to withdraw.

She tensed around him as though her body
did not want his to leave it.

He smiled and pushed in slowly then pulled
back, although not all the way out of her cunt.

Her breath was coming in little gasps and
that vein in her neck was pulsing rapidly. He lowered his lips and kissed it
then planted more light kisses along the sweep of her shoulder and up her neck.

She groaned and, as though they had a life
of their own, her arms came up to wrap around his neck.

“Good,” he mumbled against the underside of
her chin before placing his lips on the hollow at the base of her throat. With
a slow, firm rhythm, he began to move in and almost out of her—going deeper
each stroke then easing back just as leisurely.

Her arms tightened on his neck and her hips
came up to meet his at the next downward thrust.

“Lift your legs and wrap them around my
waist,” he instructed.

There was a moment’s reluctance then she
obeyed, hooking her ankles together at the base of his spine.

“That’s right,” he acknowledged. “Now hold
tightly to me.”

He increased the speed of his thrusts in
measured increments. Though his body screamed at him to push harder, faster,
deeper, he kept a tight rein on his cock. The strokes were deliberately shallow
but now quicker. Her body was responding to his with every downward press. The
scent of her was a heady aroma that tightened his balls as his drove into her.

Once more he spiked his hands under her
rump and lifted her to him. The speed of his plunges increased and the strokes
became shorter, not going as far in as they could. He was sweating profusely in
an attempt to control his lust. It was all about pleasuring her, making her
entirely his, bringing her to a mindless passion of her own.

Her breasts were rubbing against his
chest—the hard buds poking into him. He swiveled his hips as he pressed into
her and she groaned, arching her back as he slipped almost out of her.

“Milord, no!” she pleaded and writhed under
him.

He smiled.

He had her.

With a grunt, he snapped his hips forward
and drove as deep as he could. She cried out. Her legs locked fiercely around
him and he began the rapid, dive-bombing plunges that had her grunting along
with him.

She clung to him like a drowning woman to a
life preserver with her legs wrapped tightly and securely around his hips as
she met him thrust for thrust. Her upper body was slick with sweat the same as
his and her arms were so snug around his neck he could barely draw breath. He
dropped his head to her shoulder and jacked his lower body savagely against
hers.

“Aye!” she yelled.

“Do it,” he said between clenched teeth.
“Do it, baby.
Do it!
Let me have it!
”

A powerful orgasm took her over, and the
tight little squeezes that began milking him were his undoing. He released the
hold he had over his body. Hot cum shot from him in wave after satisfying wave.
His entire body felt as though it was being drained as he creamed her sweet,
hot sheath. Vaguely he could hear her sobbing from the force of her own release
as she hung on to to him—arms and thighs—as though she’d never let go. Her hips
collided brutally with his as she sought every last measure of satisfaction he
could give her. One last squeeze and she went as still as death.

He collapsed atop her. Her arms and legs
gave way and she freed him. He lay panting on her chest, his cheek cushioned
upon her breast, as he struggled to draw a decent breath. Sweat ran down his
temples and clung to the center of his chest so that where their bodies met,
there was a slick slide as they gasped in air.

He would never know how long they lay like
that but at some point he raised his head and met her eyes. They were filled
with wonderment as they stared back at him. He pushed his body up until he
could claim her mouth. The kiss he gave her was returned in full measure—their
tongues dueling as if they’d been lovers for years.

“Jana,” he whispered against her lips.

And when her arms enfolded him, her fingers
laced through his wildly tousled and sweat-wet hair to press his cheek to her
breast again, he knew he had found something he didn’t realize he’d been
searching for.