Sins of the Soul

Drawing back, he dragged her shirt from her body, working it over her head and along her arms, snarling in frustration when the wet cloth caught and held. It refused to pull free. He simply tore it in half and tossed it aside.

She surged up, twisted her fingers in his hair and brought his mouth to hers. Her kiss was urgent, wild. They both tasted of his blood, metallic and salty and so delicious that she wanted to sink her teeth into his flesh and feed and feed.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his hands working her wet pants, shoving and yanking until he wadded them at her calves. She thought he would tear them, too, but finally he dragged them free.

She was naked, panting as he came over her, the weight of his body pinning her to the ground, the heat of him sinking through her. He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her hard and deep.

He was hungry. He was anxious and euphoric. She could feel all the wild emotions that tumbled through him, turbulent as the river, feel them deep within as though they were her own.

This was nothing like the controlled tease he’d offered in her bedroom when he’d stroked her and licked until she’d unraveled beneath his touch while he remained a step apart. Remote. Distant.

This was raw and stripped bare. He fed from her mouth like a creature starved. She was thrilled by his elemental hunger.

She would have this moment. She would have this shining chance to take him deep inside.

No hiding what she was. No running. Not this time.

She felt like all her life she’d been running as hard and as fast as she could and always staying in exactly the place she started.

Hands moving restlessly over her body, raw passion in every stroke, he put the claim of his touch on her, his blood smearing on her skin. She turned her head and licked his blood from her shoulder, then she surged up and kissed him, sharing the taste.

There were no words. She didn’t need them.

She cried out as he cupped her breasts, his hands a little rough. Urgent. Her nipples were hard and swollen. Again, she cried out when he dipped his head and took the tip of her breast in his mouth with a hard, sucking pull. Then he moved to her other breast and did the same.

Sensation arrowed through her.

Frenzied, she pushed aside his clothes, tearing at buttons, fumbling with the zipper. He helped her as she made a sound of impatience and then, finally, he was naked. Hot skin, hard muscle. Ridges and planes put together to form perfection.

He was beautiful. He was sinuous and strong, long limbs, corded muscle.

Breathing heavily, he looked down at her, his eyes glittering blue flame, his expression hard, his mouth taut.

Without finesse or warning, he pushed her thighs wide, parted her sleek folds, and pushed his fingers up inside her. She was wet and ready. Pleasure spiraled through her and he captured the sounds of her cries with his mouth on hers.

She met every stroke and touch with her own, her hands roaming his body, broad shoulders, lean hips, the chiseled planes of his chest and belly.

Scraping her nails down his chest she toyed with his flat male nipples, liking the way he sucked in a breath.

Then she reached lower, tipping her head to watch as her fingers curled around the thickness of his shaft, too long to fit in her fist, too wide for her fingers to fully circle him. He was heat and velvet skin, smooth and full.

She wanted to lick him, to pull the length of his cock into her mouth. But she needed to have him inside her. Now.

Shifting her hips, she tried to entice him, lure him, make him thrust inside her. She was hungry for him. Aching. With a little wiggle, she tried to get on top.

He pinned her hands above her head. He pinned her legs with his. He let his weight come full on her now. So wonderfully heavy.

He kissed her, tongue, teeth, power and need. The kiss poured through her, reached deep inside her, turned her inside out, turned her liquid and lost.

His knees nudging her thighs apart, he reached between them, the back of his fingers stroking her swollen folds as he positioned himself and then finally, finally, the broad head of his cock pushed at her opening. So good. She shimmied down, trying to bring him inside.

From low in his throat a sound escaped him, pleasure, almost pain as he pushed deep. A smooth thrust, slick, wet. She was on fire. She was soaring, sensation layered on sensation.

Then there was no more control, no more holding back. There was only pounding need. His. Hers.

He flexed and moved over her, his muscles surging beneath his skin, supple, strong.

Her fingers dug into the muscled globes of his ass. Her eyes closed. She felt like her entire body was attuned to his every thrust, her every cell poised to explode. Desperate yearning clawed at her.

She couldn’t breathe.

She could only move. Move. Feel the lovely hard thrusts as he filled her and stretched her and made her whole. She was spread, filled. He pumped deep, driving her closer to the edge. She wanted it to last. Needed it to end.