His hand was back, pushing between her mouth and his chest. He was gentle, but adamant, even when she protested. You can have as much as you want later, Teagan. Right now, I want something else.
The way his voice brushed on the insides of her mind was just plain thrilling. His hands bit once more into her waist and she was lifted off of him. She cried out and tried to catch at him, but he rolled her onto her stomach, caught her hips and yanked them up, one hand on the nape of her neck, pressing her face down so that her bottom was high.
He entered her in one swift thrust. She screamed. Loud. The friction was incredible. He was scorching hot. Deeper than he’d ever been. Perfect. Amazing. She wanted more.
“Harder, Andre,” she whispered.
She turned her head to the side, closing her eyes to feel every stroke. She gripped the cover in both fists, holding on tight while he slammed into her over and over, jolting her body with each thrust. She could have sworn lightning streaked through her, great white-hot bolts that forked out and spread through her entire body.
Andre went harder. Rougher. Driving into her with such power he rocked the bed beneath her. She felt the building of a tidal wave deep inside. It started in her breasts. Crept up her thighs. Coiled tighter. Centered there in her sex. Her body shuddered. She gripped the cover tighter.
Let go. I feel it. Give me what is mine. So beautiful, Teagan. So beautiful.
His voice was her undoing. The velvet, sensual pitch that caressed her skin and took her right over the edge. Her body seized. Held there. He pounded hard, sending streaks of lightning burning through her. Her feminine channel clamped down. Convulsed. Held him in a strangling grip. Then she was gone, clawing at the bed to stay anchored, her body slamming back into his, as the orgasm went on, seemingly endless.
She felt him swelling, stretching her more. He groaned her name. Teagan. Soft. Velvet. Silky. Perfect. She felt every bit of hot seed pouring into her. That triggered another long orgasm. He stayed in her. She didn’t want to move, breathing hard into the mattress.
His hands slid over her back, a soothing caress. Both hands went to her buttocks, massaging, smoothing. Then he was pressed up against her, his front to her back, kissing his way up her spine until he reached the nape of her neck. He pushed her hair aside and kissed her there, too.
She would have collapsed if he hadn’t had his arm firmly around her waist. She didn’t want to lose him, but she needed to fall forward. Right on her face.
“Are you all right?”
“Mmm.” She couldn’t form a single word. With his every movement there were more aftershocks. Big ones. Delicious ones.
“Csitri.” His hands were gentle as he slipped out of her and turned her into his arms. She found herself on her side, her body tight against his, his arm locked around her waist, one thigh between hers. His hand smoothed over her hair. “Mmm is not a word.”
She ran her hand over his arm. “It is now. You’re yummy, Andre, so mmm is definitely a word.”
He laughed softly. His hand moved up her rib cage to cup the slight weight of her breast. She shivered when his thumb stroked her nipple. Her womb gave a little spasm and had another delightful aftershock.
“Your breasts are so sensitive.”
“Small. I’ve always wanted to have bigger breasts. I contemplated surgery for a while. Nothing fits right. Clothes, I mean.”
“Surgery?”
She turned her face to look at him over her shoulder, wanting to see his reaction. He felt puzzled. “Yes. Surgery. Implants. To be bigger.”
“Why?” Now he looked horrified.
“So I’d look like a woman instead of a boy.”
His eyes went soft. “Teagan. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I love your breasts.” His palm cupped over her, swallowing her. “I love the way you feel in my hands. I especially love how sensitive you are. Never think about such a thing again.”
He meant it, too. Teagan could tell. He was shocked and more than horrified. His palm cupped her breast. Held it to him like something precious, as if she were going to disfigure herself and he had to stop her. She found herself relaxing into him. He had no idea how much his reaction meant to her. She had always, for as long as she could remember, equated beauty with her sisters. All of them were simply stunning. All of them had real curves. Lots of curves. More than once they’d walked into a roomful of people together and the room fell silent. Teagan was so proud of them. They weren’t only beautiful, but they were nice as well.
She had a Caucasian father—one who had left as soon as he realized his partner was pregnant. Her mother had died giving birth to her. Teagan was ten years younger than her closest sister and looked very different from all of them—short—slight—very little curves—and wild hair that was more silk than hair and impossible to tame. She was a brain, had no real social skills, but her sisters loved her with everything in them.
“Teagan. I would not like such a thing.”
She tried not to smile. No matter how sweet Andre was, he often sounded as if he was issuing an order. Nicely. But still, an order.
“Do you remember when I told you I had real problems with authority figures? Bossy ones. Especially men.” She thought a reminder might be just the thing. They were starting their relationship, and she might as well lay it on the line for him. “I’m not exactly a pushover, Andre. I have a temper.”
“Sivamet.”
Just that. The sound of that word coupled with his silky accent sent a little tremor right through her entire body. He’d just made crazy, wild love to her and given her like a million orgasms, but her body forgot that and reacted all over again. Sheesh. She had no idea she was going to turn into a sex machine.