Beta by Jasinda Wilder
Page 60
We’d learned a balance in the time since he’d first welcomed me into his foyer, a scared, blindfolded girl meeting a guarded and dominant man.
But sometimes he just needed me to give in to him.
Lucky for me, doing so always led to universe-shattering ecstasy.
Like now.
He slid into me, pierced me, and glided deep. He held my hips in place, refusing to let me move. I couldn’t give back, couldn’t provide counter-thrust.
All I could do was take him.
* * *
VALENTINE
Holy shit. She was so tight, squeezing around me so hard it almost hurt. My fingers dug into the flesh of her hips and held her in place as I drove into her until our bodies were flush, so deep inside her I couldn’t go any farther. Her forehead touched mine and her lips trembled against mine, and I could feel her not breathing, feel her heart beat harder to make up for the sudden lack of oxygen.
And then I drew back, holding her hips in place still, and she made a small noise in the back of her throat at the loss of me within her. Her mouth opened wide as I pushed back into her, a slow, hard glide. Her fingers, pinned between our bodies, curled into the muscle of my chest, and her entire body shook with the need to move with me. But I wasn’t moving. I was buried deep, holding still, savoring the tight, hot warmth of her.
And then I moved again, pulled out, held, and thrust in. She gasped into my mouth, and her hands snaked out from between our chests to clutch at my face, and her hips rolled against my grip, fighting me. But I held her still, held her in place. Another hard, grinding thrust, and I filled her, her breath of relief and need and pleasure drowning me with its desperation and its sweetness. So I gave it to her again, pulling back slowly, so slowly, so she could feel every millimeter of me sliding between her taut folds, and she could only moan this time, and bury her face against my neck, crushing her body closer to mine, shaking all over.
We did this slowly, thrust by thrust, each one intentional, not one motion wasted, not one sensation lost.
I felt the tightening of her walls around me, felt the shiver in her delicate flesh, tasted the abandon on her lips, and knew that she was about to come undone. She was groaning into my chest, her forehead in the hollow at the base of my throat, her fingers clawed into my shoulders, her legs resting on either side of mine, all of her weight on me, perfect, trusting, so strong yet so fragile. And she became yet more delicate and precious to me as she fought to move with the hurricane force of her climax, but I wouldn’t let her, would not allow her one single inch of motion. I would only let her take me as I gave her rhythm, using her desperation to fuel my own, because I was teetering on the verge of losing myself within her.
My lips devoured her skin, everywhere I could find it. Shoulder, neck, behind her ear, her arm, her cheek. I sought her lips, but she wouldn’t give them to me. I found the corner of her mouth and kissed there, fit my tongue there, but she drew down, shrank lower, pressing her mouth to my sternum and driving me deeper inside her.
And then I felt her come, and I was unmade.
* * *
Every inch of my body was pressed against Valentine’s, even my feet resting on his ankles, my calves on his shins, balanced, held in place by the relentless grip of his hands on my hips—not my ass, not my thighs, but my hips, pulling me down and holding me in place. He moved slowly, each thrust a full range of motion, all the way out, nearly falling free of my body, and then he pushed all the way into me, forcing me to stillness so I could do nothing but feel every inch of the slide of him, the thick heat of him, the rock-hard fullness of him stretching me to a sweet, slow burn.
When he started a rhythm, gliding in slow but hard, withdrawing like the relentless inevitable outrushing of the tides, I wanted to scream and wanted to move with him, but I couldn’t. I could only shake above him and gasp.
Could only take him, and take him, and take him.
All of him.
I could only welcome his body inside mine, penetrating me, piercing me.
Could do nothing but
Love
Every
Inch.
And then I came.
It was an earthquake. A typhoon. A volcano. My fingertips buzzed and hummed and dug into his skin, my toes curled and scraped against his shins, my thighs quaked, my stomach tensed…my soul shook.
* * *
VALENTINE
When she came, I released her hips. I grabbed the swell of her ass and moved her, thrust into her, pulled her down against me and lifted her away. She whimpered in utter relief, wrapped her arms around my neck, pressed her face to my throat, and ground her hips against mine, moving on me with such uninhibited bliss that I could only groan with her even though my own climax was still several minutes away. I sighed when she sighed, moved when she moved, let her be free, let her move.
And my Kyrie, she surprised me.
Instead of grinding every last drop of orgasm out of herself on top of me, she rolled us over so I was above her. Wrapping her legs high around my waist, she rocked against me. Her mouth fell open as I was pulled deeper inside her, and her eyes widened as I pushed in, then stilled. Held back, forced myself away from the edge of orgasm. I stared down at her, taking in the carved perfection of her face. I marveled at her beauty. With her hair gone, the loveliness of her facial features was accentuated, highlighted. The angles of her cheekbones, the fullness of her red lips, the delicacy of her jawline and chin, the wide sapphirine glitter of her eyes, and now the curved smoothness of her scalp and the fragile pulse of her temple and the column of her throat….
“You…are so…beautiful. ” The words were pulled from me, involuntary, raw truth brought to my lips by her goddess perfection.
Her eyes moistened, and she blinked and lifted her hips against mine, and I was lost to her. She moved. Beneath me, her good leg folded and pinned between us, stretching herself open for me.
I palmed the inner thigh of her outstretched leg and held on, curled my other hand around her bent leg, and matched her rhythm. But then I couldn’t even do that, I could only push my hips against her and let her move for both of us, let her draw the release from me, let her take control then.
Our eyes were locked, a laser-hot cord binding our gazes, and she moved, thrust, thrust. Her hips flexed with relentless speed now, her taut stomach tensing, her tits bouncing, and I saw only her blue gaze. Saw only the incredible soul of the woman beneath me shining through her eyes, a beautiful, flawed, immensely powerful soul shining bare and vulnerable, shining just for me.
The physical release was nothing in comparison to the emotional climax we shared in that moment, and god…the physical release I experienced then was like no other, wrenching and twisting every muscle and tendon within me. She drew it all out of me, bucked against me, writhing furiously to milk it all out of me, dragging it from me.
We’d learned a balance in the time since he’d first welcomed me into his foyer, a scared, blindfolded girl meeting a guarded and dominant man.
But sometimes he just needed me to give in to him.
Lucky for me, doing so always led to universe-shattering ecstasy.
Like now.
He slid into me, pierced me, and glided deep. He held my hips in place, refusing to let me move. I couldn’t give back, couldn’t provide counter-thrust.
All I could do was take him.
* * *
VALENTINE
Holy shit. She was so tight, squeezing around me so hard it almost hurt. My fingers dug into the flesh of her hips and held her in place as I drove into her until our bodies were flush, so deep inside her I couldn’t go any farther. Her forehead touched mine and her lips trembled against mine, and I could feel her not breathing, feel her heart beat harder to make up for the sudden lack of oxygen.
And then I drew back, holding her hips in place still, and she made a small noise in the back of her throat at the loss of me within her. Her mouth opened wide as I pushed back into her, a slow, hard glide. Her fingers, pinned between our bodies, curled into the muscle of my chest, and her entire body shook with the need to move with me. But I wasn’t moving. I was buried deep, holding still, savoring the tight, hot warmth of her.
And then I moved again, pulled out, held, and thrust in. She gasped into my mouth, and her hands snaked out from between our chests to clutch at my face, and her hips rolled against my grip, fighting me. But I held her still, held her in place. Another hard, grinding thrust, and I filled her, her breath of relief and need and pleasure drowning me with its desperation and its sweetness. So I gave it to her again, pulling back slowly, so slowly, so she could feel every millimeter of me sliding between her taut folds, and she could only moan this time, and bury her face against my neck, crushing her body closer to mine, shaking all over.
We did this slowly, thrust by thrust, each one intentional, not one motion wasted, not one sensation lost.
I felt the tightening of her walls around me, felt the shiver in her delicate flesh, tasted the abandon on her lips, and knew that she was about to come undone. She was groaning into my chest, her forehead in the hollow at the base of my throat, her fingers clawed into my shoulders, her legs resting on either side of mine, all of her weight on me, perfect, trusting, so strong yet so fragile. And she became yet more delicate and precious to me as she fought to move with the hurricane force of her climax, but I wouldn’t let her, would not allow her one single inch of motion. I would only let her take me as I gave her rhythm, using her desperation to fuel my own, because I was teetering on the verge of losing myself within her.
My lips devoured her skin, everywhere I could find it. Shoulder, neck, behind her ear, her arm, her cheek. I sought her lips, but she wouldn’t give them to me. I found the corner of her mouth and kissed there, fit my tongue there, but she drew down, shrank lower, pressing her mouth to my sternum and driving me deeper inside her.
And then I felt her come, and I was unmade.
* * *
Every inch of my body was pressed against Valentine’s, even my feet resting on his ankles, my calves on his shins, balanced, held in place by the relentless grip of his hands on my hips—not my ass, not my thighs, but my hips, pulling me down and holding me in place. He moved slowly, each thrust a full range of motion, all the way out, nearly falling free of my body, and then he pushed all the way into me, forcing me to stillness so I could do nothing but feel every inch of the slide of him, the thick heat of him, the rock-hard fullness of him stretching me to a sweet, slow burn.
When he started a rhythm, gliding in slow but hard, withdrawing like the relentless inevitable outrushing of the tides, I wanted to scream and wanted to move with him, but I couldn’t. I could only shake above him and gasp.
Could only take him, and take him, and take him.
All of him.
I could only welcome his body inside mine, penetrating me, piercing me.
Could do nothing but
Love
Every
Inch.
And then I came.
It was an earthquake. A typhoon. A volcano. My fingertips buzzed and hummed and dug into his skin, my toes curled and scraped against his shins, my thighs quaked, my stomach tensed…my soul shook.
* * *
VALENTINE
When she came, I released her hips. I grabbed the swell of her ass and moved her, thrust into her, pulled her down against me and lifted her away. She whimpered in utter relief, wrapped her arms around my neck, pressed her face to my throat, and ground her hips against mine, moving on me with such uninhibited bliss that I could only groan with her even though my own climax was still several minutes away. I sighed when she sighed, moved when she moved, let her be free, let her move.
And my Kyrie, she surprised me.
Instead of grinding every last drop of orgasm out of herself on top of me, she rolled us over so I was above her. Wrapping her legs high around my waist, she rocked against me. Her mouth fell open as I was pulled deeper inside her, and her eyes widened as I pushed in, then stilled. Held back, forced myself away from the edge of orgasm. I stared down at her, taking in the carved perfection of her face. I marveled at her beauty. With her hair gone, the loveliness of her facial features was accentuated, highlighted. The angles of her cheekbones, the fullness of her red lips, the delicacy of her jawline and chin, the wide sapphirine glitter of her eyes, and now the curved smoothness of her scalp and the fragile pulse of her temple and the column of her throat….
“You…are so…beautiful. ” The words were pulled from me, involuntary, raw truth brought to my lips by her goddess perfection.
Her eyes moistened, and she blinked and lifted her hips against mine, and I was lost to her. She moved. Beneath me, her good leg folded and pinned between us, stretching herself open for me.
I palmed the inner thigh of her outstretched leg and held on, curled my other hand around her bent leg, and matched her rhythm. But then I couldn’t even do that, I could only push my hips against her and let her move for both of us, let her draw the release from me, let her take control then.
Our eyes were locked, a laser-hot cord binding our gazes, and she moved, thrust, thrust. Her hips flexed with relentless speed now, her taut stomach tensing, her tits bouncing, and I saw only her blue gaze. Saw only the incredible soul of the woman beneath me shining through her eyes, a beautiful, flawed, immensely powerful soul shining bare and vulnerable, shining just for me.
The physical release was nothing in comparison to the emotional climax we shared in that moment, and god…the physical release I experienced then was like no other, wrenching and twisting every muscle and tendon within me. She drew it all out of me, bucked against me, writhing furiously to milk it all out of me, dragging it from me.