pain.
Gently he twisted her back to face the mirror, placing an arm around her belly. Her eyes closed and her head rolled back to rest on his shoulder, her breath coming in tiny hitches. He could feel her heartbeat hammering with an identical rhythm to his own.
Moving quickly, he unzipped his trousers with his free hand and worked them off, deliberately keeping his boxers on so the temptation to plunge himself straight into her could be more easily denied.
Done, he pressed himself into the small of her back, felt her tremble, saw her lips part in a silent moan.
‘Open your eyes,’ he commanded quietly into her ear.
They fluttered open and met his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
His fingers played on the lace of her knickers and then tugged them down, delighting to find the dark silky hair below. He dipped a finger into her heat and groaned when he found her moist and swollen.
Keeping the pressure there light and rhythmical, he splayed his other hand upwards and captured a raised breast. It fitted perfectly into his hand. He could hardly wait to taste it, to taste every part of her but before he could take her into his arms and carry her to his bed her back arched, her groin pressed hard against his finger and she stiffened. He watched in awe at their reflection. Her eyes were tightly closed, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed. Then she shuddered and became limp in his arms. If she hadn’t been secure against him, he had no doubt she would have fallen to the floor.
He’d never seen or felt anything like it—such a primal, animalistic response. It filled him with something he couldn’t name...could only feel, gripping his chest.
Keeping her pressed tight against him, he turned her enough to lift her into his arms.
There was no resistance; her eyes gazed into his, dazed bewilderment ringing out. When she reached a hand to press a palm to his cheek he swallowed, his heart beating so fast it had become a painful thrum.
He laid her down on the bed and shrugged his open shirt off, discarding it on the floor.
She’d covered her breasts. He took hold of her hands and carefully parted them, exposing her full nakedness to him.
To his eyes, Amalie was perfect—her arms and legs toned and smooth, her skin soft, her breasts high, ripe peaches, begging to be tasted.
Bringing his head down to hers, he captured her lips. She returned his kiss with passion, her tongue sweeping into his mouth, her hot, sweet breath flowing into his senses. Her hands reached for his head and razed through his hair.
As he deepened the kiss he stroked his fingers down her body, exploring the soft skin, delighting in the mews escaping her throat.
Breaking the kiss, he ran his lips down her throat and lower, to her breasts, capturing one in his mouth...
Theos.
For the first time since his teenage years he was on the verge of losing control already. He had never felt so constricted by his boxer shorts, the tight cotton material as tight a barrier as steel.
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