Hard Beat

“Oh really?” she asks, the words starting out strong but then ending in a sigh as my thumbs flick over the hardened tips of her nipples. I love watching her like this, eyes hazy with desire and her lips fallen lax from the pleasure I can bring her. “What’s going to happen next?”


Without saying a word, I reach down in the space between our thighs, brush my fingers over her *, and find it slick with desire. And the fact that she’s wet from sucking me off has my own libido already stirring back awake, her ability to make my body expedite my recovery time almost frightening. She gasps at the feel of my fingers just barely touching her as they find the tie of her robe and place it between her legs with one hand so that it falls through the opening that both of our parted thighs make. I grab it with my other hand so that one hand holds the robe tie at her back while the other holds it just above the front of her pelvis.

“Uh-uh,” I command as she looks down. “I want to watch you, want to see in your eyes what I do to you. Keep your eyes on me.”

And a quiet hush falls around us so that the anticipation thickens, our eyes locked, her mind wondering exactly what I’m going to do next. Drawing things out, I take the sash and press it against the cleft of her sex. Her legs tense at the feel of it there, but when I slowly start to rub it back and forth, I work it between the lips of her * so that it rubs with perfect friction over her clit. The first time her eyes widen and her breath hitches at the newness of the sensation before her head falls back for a moment to absorb the unexpected feeling. But then as I continue to move the tie ever so slowly back and forth and watch the sensation swamp her as she fights to keep her eyes from closing with the pleasure of it, the moan that falls from her mouth tells me she likes it.

Her hands flash out to grip my shoulders, and her hips slowly begin to move opposite the pull of the sash as she tries to chase the release. The strained moans she makes, the bite of her fingernails digging in my flesh, the heat of her ass rubbing back and forth on my bare thighs – all of it and then a thousand other things I can’t even put in words make me fall for her ten times harder than when her lips were wrapped around me.

Because there is something so damn powerful in making a woman come. With men, an orgasm is basically a given, but with women? As a man you have to work at making them climax, have to know where to stroke and just how hard to rub. It usually takes communication, a lot of trial and error before you learn each other’s bodies enough to not have to speak other than to praise and enhance the moment.

But with Beaux, she doesn’t have to instruct and I don’t have to ask. Our bodies just know, just respond and react without so much as a word exchanged between us.

I vary the pressure and speed as I pull and rub the sash along her body, my mouth closing around the peaks of her breasts as she arches her back when the pleasure starts to become too much for her body to absorb. Her legs tense over mine as her head falls forward onto my shoulder. Her control begins to give way to pleasure and incoherency. We remain like this for a single, powerful heartbeat of time with her teeth nipping my shoulder and my hands working her into a fever pitch.

And when she comes, her strained voice calling my name, her hips bucking wildly against my body, her wetness evident on my own thighs, the only thought that remains in my head is it doesn’t get any more powerful than this.

Physically.

And emotionally.

She’s my little piece of Heaven in this land full of Hell.





Chapter 17





T

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