"Tell me how to take you." He nipped the curve of her breast. "Tell me how you want it."
She shuddered, and he almost lost it when he felt her juices flood his fingers.
"Hard," she panted. "So hard. Now. Fuck me now."
"Against the wall? Here?"
"Oh God. Anywhere," she wailed. "Damn you. Give it to me. Now."
"Are you hot enough for it yet?" He kissed her shoulder, nipped it. "I don't think you're hot enough yet."
He wanted more. He needed the words. He had never needed the words before, but he did now. He wanted her hot enough to forget herself, to forget the memories of how he used to love her, to accustom herself to the bleak, dark lust that consumed him now.
"I'm hot enough," she moaned.
"Tell me how hot you are." He wrapped his free arm around her h*ps and lifted her to him, stumbling to the table, ignoring her shock as he set her na**d ass on the edge and knelt between her thighs. "You're not hot enough. Let me help you out with that."
He laid his lips against the swollen folds and had to grip the base of his c**k to hold back his come. God, he was going to blow. He could feel it, building in his balls, throbbing at the head of his cock.
She tasted so sweet. Her thighs parted as he lifted one small foot and placed it on his shoulder, opening her further.
The light was better here, but still not good enough for her to the see the damage he had been trying to clean up. Several of the cuts were almost deep enough for stitches. He needed to be in the command center letting someone patch him up. Instead, he was here, his lips buried in his wife's pu**y and loving every second of it.
He licked and lapped at the little mound. She was so sweet, the flavor of her burst against his tongue and he was ravenous. He stabbed inside the fluttering opening, feeling her clench, hearing her moan as she leaned back, allowing him greater access to the treat that was fast becoming as addictive as any drug.
Ah hell. He wanted to lick her forever. He wanted to immerse his senses in the tangy bite, the sweet soft flavor and the clean feminine scent of her. He wanted her, for breakfast, lunch, dinner, a midnight snack, and everything in between.
"Talk to me." The words were hard, brutally torn from his lips as he moved them to the hard bud of her clit. "Tell me you like it. Tell me to eat you. To suck you forever."
He couldn't wait much longer. He wanted to tear the words from her lips. He had dreamed, fantasized.
"Noah, lick my clit," she moaned. "Roll your tongue on it."
Ah God. Yes. She loved that, didn't she? The way he rolled his tongue over her clit. He gave it to her. He gripped her thigh with one hand, pressed her legs further apart and gave her what she needed.
He pumped his cock, a wild, agonizing sound of arousal falling from his lips as her h*ps jerked, arched, and she cried out his name again.
"Noah. Oh yes. Like that." Her voice was high and thin. "Oh God. I'm going to come for you."
"Not yet." He pulled back and she almost screamed. Her hands caught in his hair, tangled in it, and she jerked him back to the hot, humid flesh awaiting his tongue, his lips.
"Lick my pu**y." She was lost now, lost in the pleasure, and he shoved his tongue inside her, f**ked her with it and tasted all that hot, sweet cream flowing from her.
Ah hell. He was going to come in his hand at this rate. He didn't want to come in his hand. He wanted to be high and deep inside her. Buried as deep as a man could get in a woman, filling her, marking her.
He wanted to brand her with his seed. He wanted to be so deep inside her that she never forgot who owned her body. Never.
But first, he had to tear himself away from her taste. And ah sweet merciful heaven, her taste. Her taste was so hot on his tongue, liquid and filled with life. He didn't want to leave it. He didn't want to stop.
"Give it to me." Her voice seared his senses. "Damn you, give it to me now, Noah. Fill me with your cock. Make me scream for you. Oh God, I'll scream for you, just do me now."
Noah jerked to his feet, his hand still wrapped around his cock, his senses filled with the taste of her, the heat of her. And he pressed forward.
He watched her face, her eyes. Rolled the head of his c**k against her cl*t and watched her pant, watched as her hand pressed against her stomach, then, as he lowered himself, pressed against her entrance, those pretty, graceful fingers moved to her clit. Shyly. Hesitantly.
During their marriage, he had never allowed her to touch herself while he was taking her. He had taken full responsibility for her pleasure as well as his own. But she wasn't waiting now, and the sight of it nearly had him erupting. With no more than the tip of his c**k pressed inside her, he was losing it.
He watched her fingers as he pressed deeper, his fingers tight at the base of his shaft to hold back the furious release he could feel pounding in his skull.
"Do it." His voice was hard, thick. "Use your fingers. Show me what you like, baby. Damn you. I'm going to f**k you so hard and so deep you'll never deny me again. Do you hear me, Sabella. Never."
She had denied him that morning. Denied his place in her bed, denied what he knew was between them. Why didn't matter. He was deceiving her, he knew it. Lying to her in the most elemental of ways, and he couldn't say the words to fix that. But he wouldn't let her deny this.
He gripped her hips. Watched those pretty fingers. Ah God, so graceful, so slender, sliding into the curls at the top of her mound, opening herself.
He felt on fire. His c**k was a flame and it was destroying him. He pressed in, gritting his teeth, grimacing at the complete, unadulterated pleasure in just feeling her. Seeing her. He pushed in, pumping in short, hard strokes, working in-side her as her fingers slid to her clit, circled it and became wet, glistening with her juices.
His stomach clenched. His balls went so tight they were in agony.
"Stroke it," he snarled. "Finger your clit, Sabella. I'm not going to last. Ah hell." He shoved in deep, to the hilt, felt her muscles fluttering around him, gripping, clenching.
He couldn't stop. He held her tight, feeling her legs wrap around his hips, her heels pressing into his ass as he began pumping inside her. Hard and deep.
She was crying his name. His name. Not her husband's name. Sweet God have mercy on him, how had he stayed away from her? How had he remained separated from this woman for so many years? For even a day longer than he'd had to.