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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 131 из 293He shoved himself in until his balls smacked against my ass. I screamed, because he was too hard, and the angle was sharp, and I knew that as much as I’d begged, if he kept this position, I would be begging him to go before many thrusts. I’d felt men be hard and eager before, but never this hard. So hard, I wondered if it hurt him, too?
“Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
“Is this really what you want?”
“A different position, then, yes.”
“What position?”
“Me on top.”
“Why?”
“So I can control how deep you go. I’ve never felt anyone so hard.”
He drew out of me as abruptly as he’d entered. He turned me around, keeping only one hand in his as he lay down on the ground. He drew me down on top of him, but it took both of us to slide me over him, to put that quivering hardness inside me.
The feel of him sliding inside me flung my head back, closed my eyes. I fought my own body to stay high on my knees and not slam him into my cervix until I was ready for it.
His hands touched my hips, brought my attention to more than just the part of him that was inside me. “I want to see your face while you ride me.”
I looked down into his face and saw at last that look. That look that is dark and eager and all lust, but something else as well. Possession. In that moment, in a man’s eyes is the sure knowledge that you won’t say no. That you are, for that moment, his.
I gazed into the heat of his eyes, not the heat of magic, of faerie, but the eternal magic of male and female, of that eternal dance that truly did make the grass grow, the flowers bloom, the crops ripen. It was all in his face, that spark that keeps it all going.
“Amatheon,” I said, voice heavy with sighs.
He frowned up at me. “What is wrong?”
I smiled. “Nothing, absolutely nothing,” and I rolled my hips forward and began to ride him.
I rode him until his hips began to rise and fall with mine. I rode him until his hands convulsed around my breasts and I cried out. I rode him until his body began to lose rhythm, and the earth underneath my knees began to change. I was using the hard surface for my leverage, and suddenly I didn’t have the leverage needed to keep the rhythm I wanted. That was my first hint that the ground was growing soft, and Amatheon was beginning to sink into it.
I hesitated above him, and his hands gripped my waist.
“Don’t stop, Goddess, don’t stop.”
I stopped fighting to use my knees and used my hips instead.
“Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
“Is this really what you want?”
“A different position, then, yes.”
“What position?”
“Me on top.”
“Why?”
“So I can control how deep you go. I’ve never felt anyone so hard.”
He drew out of me as abruptly as he’d entered. He turned me around, keeping only one hand in his as he lay down on the ground. He drew me down on top of him, but it took both of us to slide me over him, to put that quivering hardness inside me.
The feel of him sliding inside me flung my head back, closed my eyes. I fought my own body to stay high on my knees and not slam him into my cervix until I was ready for it.
His hands touched my hips, brought my attention to more than just the part of him that was inside me. “I want to see your face while you ride me.”
I looked down into his face and saw at last that look. That look that is dark and eager and all lust, but something else as well. Possession. In that moment, in a man’s eyes is the sure knowledge that you won’t say no. That you are, for that moment, his.
I gazed into the heat of his eyes, not the heat of magic, of faerie, but the eternal magic of male and female, of that eternal dance that truly did make the grass grow, the flowers bloom, the crops ripen. It was all in his face, that spark that keeps it all going.
“Amatheon,” I said, voice heavy with sighs.
He frowned up at me. “What is wrong?”
I smiled. “Nothing, absolutely nothing,” and I rolled my hips forward and began to ride him.
I rode him until his hips began to rise and fall with mine. I rode him until his hands convulsed around my breasts and I cried out. I rode him until his body began to lose rhythm, and the earth underneath my knees began to change. I was using the hard surface for my leverage, and suddenly I didn’t have the leverage needed to keep the rhythm I wanted. That was my first hint that the ground was growing soft, and Amatheon was beginning to sink into it.
I hesitated above him, and his hands gripped my waist.
“Don’t stop, Goddess, don’t stop.”
I stopped fighting to use my knees and used my hips instead.