Broken Crescent (Devil's Sons Motorcycle Club Book 2) (8 page)

 

CHAPTER 9

 

She slid between the sheets, a rose pressed between the pages of a book. She was naked and fragrant from a long soak in bath salts and bath oils, hairless below the neck from carefully removing any unsightly body hair and oiled to a slick golden sheen with sweet coconut oil. Her lustrous brown hair floated down to the pillow as she laid on her side and studied his face.

 

Sam slumbered peacefully, undisturbed. Afia was sneaking. In his attempt to shield her from spiritual condemnation, he had kept himself from her. She was awed by the reserve required to be chaste in each other’s company for the several weeks since they had renewed their connection, but her restraint was growing thin. She knew her birth control would now be effective.

 

When it came to her morals, try as she might, Afia couldn’t see anything wrong with making love to the man she loved. True, they weren’t married, but what was marriage other than a meeting of the minds and agreement of souls? She was sure she was made for him, and he was made for her. It was starting to make less and less sense to stay away from each other.

 

Wanting him was an ache that made her tongue thick with thirst for the quenching shower of his kisses. Her skin tingled to be touched, and her womanhood threatened to blossom each and every time he drew close enough to stir her.  His scent was encoded in her memory. She inhaled, reveling in the smell of his sheets and comforter, his skin, and his body. The need was fierce.

 

Afia reached a slender hand to his shoulder and smoothed it slowly down his arm. She drew her fingers back and started over at the base of his neck, moving them down his chest. She ran her fingertips through the silky curls covering his stomach.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only flannel pants, and his nudity thrilled her. His body was feverishly hot from being beneath the covers. The satiny skin beneath the pads of her fingers made her heart race in anticipation.

 

She slid her thighs together, hiding the pearl between her legs that was rigid and swollen with lust. Her petals were dewy with desire. Her nipples beaded, and her stomach quivered. Each breath was shallow and rapid. Her eyelids fluttered as she closed her eyes and imagined them making love. Afia suppressed a throaty groan, repositioning herself on her back.

 

Rousing him from sleep was tempting, but she refrained. She wanted to enjoy the view, the clandestine courtship of her upper thigh brushing teasingly against his crotch, before he opened his eyes with reason and sense and told her to go back to the guest room. She pushed her hands down her naked stomach to the V between her legs. She had tried to do this in her room, but there was no way she could stay away with him so close. A wall of separation wasn’t enough. Spending the weekend at Sam’s house had probably been a bad idea.

 

She clenched her eyes shut and touched herself. Her fingers quested inquisitively into the folds of her rosebud, carefully caressing the sensitive skin of her secret. She pressed her fingertip into the slit and touched deeper, and the tips came away slick and wet. She rolled the moisture over the nub of her clitoris, sucking in a breath in erotic pleasure. Afia opened her eyes and stared into Sam’s face.

 

She shuddered deliciously as she stroked around and around in circles of dizzying pleasure. Her beating heart was thunderous, and her ears were clouded by the whoosh of blood through her veins. Biting her bottom lip, her head lolled back and her legs spread wider, accepting the eager penetration of her fingers. Slow strokes in and out, she met the inward thrusts with rising hips and trembling legs. A soft sigh and moan erupted, unbidden, and Afia squeezed her eyes closed, frozen still…

 

He didn’t stir. She waited the space of a few deep breaths, steadying herself. It didn’t do to rush the excitement. She wanted to revel in the fantasy. As she continued her masturbation, she held Sam in her thoughts, remembering the way he had masterfully taken her. His thrusts, powerful and sure, had caressed her recess with exquisite talent and skill, skating over erogenous zones and penetrating to her core. The memory coaxed more wetness from her folds to soak her aroused womanhood, and perspiration began to bead along her skin.

 

She needed. She pushed her finger deep inside herself, circling faster with her thumb around her clit, and her breaths grew more manic as she moved closer to culmination. Try as she might, she couldn’t slow the swift ecstasy that threatened to take her over the edge. She had to stop touching herself before she exploded. She had to calm her body. She couldn’t wake him.

 

Except he was already awake. Sam, unmoving, felt the woman beside him as her ministrations made the bed move restlessly with each stroke and swirl of her fingers, and it took everything in him not to rise above her and finish the job. He held back a sigh as his cock slowly but surely grew to life, massively erect. He wasn’t sure if she could feel it against her upper outer thigh, if she was even of the presence of mind to notice, but he hoped she would continue. When she held still again, trying to lower the arousal level, he waited with baited breath for her to keep going.

 

He felt Afia shift and squirm. He didn’t open his eyes, but he felt her gaze on him.  Sam waited.

 

“Are you awake?” she whispered tentatively.

 

He didn’t answer. He felt the tension in her arm, the one pressed against his. Gradually, she started again. The in and out drag of her penetrating middle finger made Afia bite back cries of pleasure. It was the fantasy that made the arousal burn hotter, the idea of him having his way with her.

 

He slid a hand between her legs and cupped her mons, pressing her finger deeper. Afia whimpered. Sam groaned in desire. He was losing the battle to stay away from her physically. She wasn’t fighting fair. It had to be biological warfare to crawl naked into his bed and expect him not to touch her.

 

He growled softly with frustrated need. His mouth slipped to her shoulder to close around the dusky skin. His tongue flicked against her flesh. He tasted the sweet coconut oil she had used to oil herself. He smelled the jasmine and honey perfume. He groaned again.

 

“Let me help you with that,” Sam sighed. His mouth slid over her shoulder to the side of her neck as she moved into his arms with a wanton moan that spoke volumes about how she really felt about his move to not have sex with her. Sam chuckled, surprised. “My darling,” he murmured, sucking at her throbbing pulse. Her hair fluttered around his face, tickling his cheeks. He smiled against her jugular. “I’ve kept you waiting, haven’t I?”

 

He rolled Afia onto her back and slipped over her, settling between her widespread legs and feeling her pelvis press against his anxiously. His pajama bottoms provided minimal barrier. He could feel her heat, her moisture like a thundercloud ready to unleash. Her hands flew to his neck and her nails raked down his back. Sam dropped his mouth to Afia’s and kissed her like he had wanted to do for ages. She melted. She flowed in his arms as languidly as a river, molding to his body. Her legs eased up and round his hips, heels locking at the back of his thighs, moving restlessly up and down the back of his legs.

 

Sam sipped at her tongue, flicking his tongue against the roof of her mouth. He licked and sucked her lips. He slanted his mouth against hers, as she mewled and whimpered with abandonment. Each small sound of pleasure and desire battered his senses and spiked his lust. He couldn’t hold back from her.

 

Her breasts were round and full, dark nipples beckoning to him. Sam moved his face down to her chest to rest his nose in her cleavage. Inhaling deeply, he smiled against her skin.

 

“I thought I didn’t pique your interest anymore,” she confessed in a breathless sigh.  Her spine arched, and she pressed his face to her breasts. His mouth moved to her nipple. Sam slid his wet, silky tongue around the areola and tugged the nipple into his mouth, suckling. Her fingers ran through his unruly hair. “Ah! Yes,” she gasped.

 

Her womanhood throbbed against his cock. He could feel it through his pants. Sam desperately clung to her waist and pressed her back down to the bed to ease some of the tension. If he didn’t, he would let go before he had even gotten in good. He groaned, sucking from one nipple to the next. She was already aroused, but there were levels. He could take her higher. With diligent dedication, he kissed her golden globes until her cries grew louder and more urgent, and he drew his kisses lower down her stomach. The dip of her bellybutton accepted the tip of his tongue.

 

Sam didn’t stop there. His nose skidded over the bare skin to the sweet nectar between her quivering thighs, and he buried his tongue as deeply inside of her as he could go. The instant shock of pleasure made Afia scream his name.

 

“Yes,” he murmured against her dripping wetness. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

 

She blushed, uncertain if she had heard him correctly. “You know,” she moaned shyly. Her thighs slid against his face. Her fingers tangled in his hair. “You know what you do to me.”

 

He grabbed her legs and held them open wide. “Tell me.” His breath tickled her. She squirmed, trying to lift her hips to put her body back at his mouth. Sam pulled back a teasing fraction more.

 

“Kiss me,” she cried out with need.

 

“You mean like this?” Sam slipped his tongue past his lips and slid the glistening tip from the top of her slit near her clitoris to the very bottom. He curled his tongue erotically into her opening and gently eased back out. Her incoherent cries echoed through the quiet room. His erection strained against the bed, and he moaned in abject pleasure at the pleasure he was giving her.

 

Tongue kissing her intimate parts as tenderly and deeply as he had kissed her mouth, Sam gave Afia oral sex the likes of which he had never given another woman. He boldly drew his chin into the well of her body and stroked in and out as he let her thrust against his mouth, her clitoris at the mercy of his tongue. As she rode his face, he felt his cock jerk insistently, and Sam let out a tortured sound. He sucked her clit harder. First, she would come. First, he would make her body shower sparks of radiant completion across his darkened bedroom. Then, he would get his.

 

He kept going. His tongue flicked up and down in rapid swoops like a bumblebee’s wings beating against a flower. Her body was a loose cannon, ready to fire. A strangled cry flew from her lips as she instinctively curved her pelvis to accept the pleasure. Her stomach tensed, as Afia held herself still to receive. All she could say was yes. Affirmations slipped out of her mouth with each exhale. She shuddered for him and throbbed. Her clit pulsated against his tongue. Masturbation had nothing on his expert love making.

 

“Please!” she cried. “Oh, please!” Head whipping from side to side, her hair flew around her face as her body ejaculated with a powerful orgasm. Afia felt release like she had never experienced before. She felt it from the tingling crown of her head to her clenched toes. She felt it balled in her pelvis and flowing between her legs.

 

Sam chuckled against her womanhood. Her body convulsed helplessly, surrendering control. “That’s it,” he murmured encouragingly, rising. His hand upon her stomach, he massaged her lower abdomen until she gradually relaxed. “That’s it, my beautiful girl. Did you get what you needed?”

 

Afia’s face flushed, and she covered it with weak hands. “Yes,” she whispered, embarrassed. He had picked up on her desperation and assuaged her desire. She felt worldly and…womanly. Decidedly more good than bad. Afia dropped her hands and stared into Sam’s eyes.

 

He leaned down and kissed her lips. Sam untied the drawstring of his pants and eased them over his hips, down his legs. She smiled against his mouth. “More?” she said inquisitively. She put her arms around his shoulders and brought him flush against her body after he was completely naked like her.

 

Her breasts pressed to his chest, and Afia savored the feel of his skin. She closed her eyes and let him guide his erection to her entrance. She gritted her teeth in excitement as his thick hardness pressed slowly into her tight sheath. She was slick and engorged after her potent climax. His entrance was easy, enticing her hips to move against his. They came together in another dance of pleasure.

 

Sam slipped his arms under her body and clutched her to his chest as he stroked in and out of her sexy, sultry body, marveling at the feel. She held him in the vise grip of her vagina, milking him. Each push inside sent thrills through his body. Each pull out made him want to plunge back in. He struggled mightily not to be done on the first few plunges, but Afia was making that hard by the perfection of her response. He needed the feeling to linger, to remove any doubt. She thought he had lost interest in her. That was the furthest thing from the truth.

 

She had all of it. Every inch. He sank into her body, grinding together with greater urgency, and Afia’s arm and hand went up to cup his head to her neck. His mouth opened against her throat. He bit and sucked, licked, moaned, and ground out swear words in ecstasy. His thrusts grew harder and deeper, and his cock expanded; yet, still she held on. Afia’s soft sighs and gasps of pleasure got louder. He gripped her hips in his hands and held her steady as he got closer to culmination.

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