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the fragrance of her arousal rose to mix with the floral perfume. Groaning, John opened
his mouth wide and sucked at her skin, licked into the hollow of her navel, lower until
his tongue slid between her legs in search of stronger flavors.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, pushed. I don t want to finish that way.
Not this time.
He raised his head and looked up the line of her body to find her eyes anxious and
her mouth pinched. This isn t finishing. It s beginning.
But before& She trailed off and bit her bottom lip.
Before was different. He stroked her leg from hip to knee, relishing the gooseflesh
that crept after his hand.
Overhead, Margaret cried out. C.C. jerked, her fingers tightening on his shoulders,
and whispered, Again?
I told you. Beginning. John pitched his weight against her knees, disrupting her
balance and forcing her against the high bed.
She touched his jaw. John raised his head. Her eyebrows came together in a frown,
and she said, I ve already had beginning. I want finishing. Don t you?
John closed his eyes. The long muscles in her thighs flexed as he tightened his grip.
She would have bruises in the morning. You ll be sore.
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All the Women in Pearl
Stop trying to talk me out of this. C.C. stroked his hair, her touch soothing along
his head, punishing when her fingernails reached his nape.
He shuddered for the small pain and forced his hands to relax. Rising, he caught
her around the waist and lifted her to sit on the edge of the bed. Spread your legs.
She did one better and leaned back until her weight rested upon her elbows. The
position shoved her breasts toward him and hollowed her stomach. Chest tight, John
pushed her knees apart until she bit her bottom lip.
Too far? he asked.
She shook her head. Lying, but he didn t call her on it. The sight of her laid open,
wet flesh glistening, her bare skin gilded by lamplight, made him greedy. He plucked a
torn honeysuckle petal from her pubic hair, murmured, Should have picked more.
Her lips curved, a sly smile. Fresh bunch of bluebells in the kitchen.
He unfastened his pants. Her eyes widened as he drew his cock into his hand. John
gave himself a long stroke, pleased by the flush that darkened her cheeks. Her mouth
took on a bruised hue, darkened by his shadow when his shoulders blocked the light.
Needing to taste her again, he stepped between her legs. They have to be
honeysuckle.
They do? She clutched the scrap quilt that covered her bed.
John braced himself on one arm and leaned over her, licking at her bottom lip.
That s what your mouth tasted like.
She sighed, closed her eyes, rocked her hips to meet the head of his cock as he
rubbed the sensitive bulb between her labia. He tasted the inner rim of her lips, sucked
and bit until she moaned, When?
The first time. Testing, pushing, he fitted himself lower, into the narrow mouth of
her sex. Despite the slippery proof of her readiness, her body resisted his initial thrust.
The first time& ohhhh. John. That feels
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Emily Ryan-Davis
The first time I kissed you, he muttered, cutting her off. If she vocalized the
sensation, he would lose the careful control he had over himself. Gritting his teeth, he
worked deeper. Her heat clasped tight, pushing as she drew a deep breath, pulling
when her chest fell with the exhale. You& tasted like you d been breaking off the stems
and sucking the flowers.
She didn t respond and he didn t care. The memory was more his than hers. He
reveled in it, leaned to suck at the nectar-sweetened flesh between her breasts as he
bought himself another inch. Her elbows slid from beneath her and she tumbled flat on
the bed, reached to cover her breasts. John hissed. The sight of her nipples peeking
between her fingers ate at his control. He pushed his fingers into her hair and held her
waist with his free hand, pinning her to the mattress, quieting the restless twist of her
hips. The flush riding her throat told him it was time.
Hooking her knee behind his hip, he climbed onto the bed and lowered his weight
atop her. He adjusted their bodies to slot the head of his cock against her entrance. C.C.
turned her head, the crest of a moan swallowed by a pillow. She tensed in his arms.
Using his hold on her hair, he brought her head back toward him.
Look at me, he whispered.
She slitted her eyes, a frustrated pinch to her mouth. Stop holding back from me.
A raw laugh tore itself from his chest. Hanging his head, John focused on her eyes,
drew back and followed orders. A soft, strangled cry made its way to her lips just
before he licked inside her mouth. Her teeth caught his tongue hard enough to distract
him from the wet muscles fluttering uncertainly around his cock. Not moving inside
her, he gentled his kiss and stroked the tense line of her throat. Her pulse tripped
beneath his fingertips. He lingered at that spot, caressing her pulse point in small circles
until the rapid beat slowed and she returned his kiss. Soon, her shoulders relaxed. She
moved beneath him, unfolding her arms from her breasts and splaying her fingers to
grip his arms.
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All the Women in Pearl
Reluctant to relinquish her mouth but needing to hear her voice, to know she
wanted to continue, he lifted his head. Soft, shiny eyes met his and she slid her hands to
his shoulders. He kissed the bend of her arm. Tell me when it doesn t hurt.
It doesn t hurt.
Are you lying?
No. She closed her eyes again and shifted, angling low and curling her pelvis into
his groin. Slippery heat rode along his cock, a shallow stroke, and a sigh rasped past her
lips. It s strange. Better than your mouth. Better than your fingers. I don t want
anything else ever again.
She had other words for him, explicit descriptions of the sensation of fullness as his
cock pressed into her, but he lost the thread of her praise. The soft, husky pitch of her
voice coaxed something wild from inside him. He nipped the tender spot beneath her
chin, closed his teeth around a jutting nipple, rocked back, pushed deep. Her voice lost
distinction, a word becoming a gasp in the second syllable, and her fingers locked at the
back of his neck.
John lost himself in her heat, in the rhythm she adopted so quickly. Her thighs
rubbed along his ribs, silky and soft even as they wound around his back and squeezed.
The flex and bump of her belly against his abdomen drove him farther into the wild
place. He reacted to skin on skin, contracting muscles, rough hiccups of sound that told
him words were no longer possible, and slid one hand beneath her ass. She rose at his
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