“You still shave?” He ran the backs of his fingers over the damp cotton that shielded the swollen folds of her sex.
Chaya swallowed tightly. “Wax.”
Pleasure and anticipation tightened his features, and the look caused her womb to clench in response. He was aroused, dangerously aroused. She could see it in his face, feel it in his body.
“Five years.” His voice was guttural. “I’ve dreamed about that one night, Chay, for five f**king years. Tormented by it. Driven f**king crazy by it.”
Her lips parted at the intensity behind the words. To be wanted like that. She had never been wanted so desperately by a man as Natches wanted her. And only once—five years before—had she felt this kind of desire for a man.
Five years. Too long. Too many memories, too many dreams and fantasies to fuel this hunger.
“I—I ached. Every day.” The words came from her, unbidden, the strain from the attempt to hold them back causing a sob to pass her throat. “Natches—you’re going to destroy me.”
His fingers hooked in the band of her panties, and he drew them slowly over her h*ps with the soft command “Lift.”
She arched her hips, watching his eyes, his face, watching the hunger grow in him and feeling it grow in her.
He dropped the scrap of material to the floor, a grimace contorting his features as he forced his gaze from the glistening flesh between her thighs and stared back at her.
Chaya felt caught, trapped, and it terrified her. The power this man held over her. How was she supposed to fight this? Control this?
“Now for this.” His fingers moved to the front clasp of her bra.
Chaya’s breath caught in her throat as he flicked the tiny clasp open, then peeled the cups back from her br**sts and pushed the straps over her shoulders. Her fingers dug into the countertop as she leaned back at the urging of his hands against her shoulders.
“So pretty.” His hands framed the swollen mounds, his fingers dark against her lighter flesh as he lifted them, caressed them.
Calloused fingertips stroked over the hardened ni**les. Her womb convulsed, and she felt the damp warmth of her juices spilling from her.
“Natches.” She arched to him, distant memories of him bending to her, taking her nipple in his mouth, flashing through her mind a second before his actions followed her memories.
And the reality was better. She arched and cried out at the feel of his mouth, hot and hungry, devouring her nipple. His tongue lashed at it, rasped over it as he suckled, sending exquisite sparks of pure sensation exploding through her system.
“Oh God, Natches.” Her head fell back as she felt her arms weakening.
As though he knew, sensed her inability to hold herself up to him, one arm curved around her back, tightened, and allowed her hands to lift from the counter as he lowered her, her arms curling around his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh.
His mouth was so hot, his tongue like a brand burning across her nipple. First one, then the other. He sucked at the hard points greedily as she became lost in a vortex of pleasure she knew she could never escape.
“Ah, yes, that’s my Chay.” He ran his tongue in the valley between her br**sts.
She shivered at the caress, her thighs tightening on his, her h*ps undulating at the subtle pressure of his c**k head against the slick folds of her sex.
She needed him there. She needed him to take her. Hard. Fast. Deep.
“I missed this,” he crooned as his lips began to kiss a path down her stomach. “Missed touching you, feeling you against me.”
Her back arched as a tremulous cry tore from her.
“Do you remember it, Chay? So hot it burned us alive? So much pleasure we thought we were dying.”
She remembered it. She remembered all of it. Like an inferno blast that she had convinced herself was no more than her need to escape her pain. It had been so much more though. Because it was hotter this time, the ache deeper. It was Natches. His touch was like an addiction, and the need only grew the longer the separation. There was no going cold turkey. No escaping the effect of it.
“Ahh, so sweet.” His tongue licked over the top of the mound between her thighs. So close to her clit. So close she could feel the heat of it, anticipate the wild ecstasy it could bring her.
When it came, it shattered her. Because it was even brighter, hotter, than she remembered, the pleasure swirled through her fear and dissipated it. The need for control evaporated. She was lost in the pleasure, and there was no other place to be. No other place she ever wanted to be.
His tongue slid around her clit, and he groaned against it.
“So sweet, Chay. You taste like summer.”
Her hands speared into his hair, the thick, silken strands twining around her fingers as she fought to pull him back to her.
And he chuckled against her flesh, a dark, greedy sound. His tongue licked slow and easy through the narrow slit so rich with awakened sensations. Nerve endings came fully alert, too close to the surface of her skin, reveling in his touch again.
She called out his name, her voice hoarse with need, begging him to take her. His hands pushed her thighs farther apart, his head dipped, and his tongue filled her. Ecstasy nearly shattered inside her. So close. She was so close.
“Please.” She moaned, feeling her release, so close, almost there. Oh God, she needed to come. She needed that wild explosion tearing through her, the release she had only known one other time, had only known with Natches.
“Are you mine, Chaya?” His voice was a dark, seductive croon, pulling her in as he licked again, drawing her taste to him, stroking her into an abyss of sensation and pleasure.
She would give him anything for this. Be anything he wanted as long as she had this.
“Yours.” She was barely aware of the word tearing from her lips. “Always yours, Natches. Oh God, I’ve always been yours.”
He paused, a short moment of stillness that her breath caught, then his lips surrounded her clit, drew it into the suckling heat of his mouth, to the licking tip of his tongue, and he pushed her over that edge.
She felt the explosion rip through her, drawing her up, arching her against him as a throttled scream left her lips and she dissolved into him.
She melted. For a moment, just for a moment, she felt herself sinking into the very pores of his flesh, and understood that this was where she belonged. This was the addiction that was Natches. To belong to him so deeply that she was a part of him.