More Than a Man (14 page)

“The richest, most decadent breakfast you’ve
ever had.” He sucked the skin between her breasts and worked his
blunt fingertip against her tight pucker.

Noelle gasped, dug in with her fingernails.
“Aya.”

He licked a path to her pulse point, rasping
her skin with beard stubble, tickling with his eyelashes. As his
lips reached her chin, then her mouth, his energy shifted. Powerful
muscle tightened beneath her hands, connected with her breasts. Aya
clasped her to his chest and moved, rising and propelling her
backward. Before she thought to voice her surprise, she lay
sprawled on the bed. He knelt between her legs, his shoulders above
her, his face commanding her focus. As if she’d registered anything
else since the first glimpse.

Supporting his weight with one hand, he
stroked his way between her thighs, back to his chosen cleft.
Wicked fingers circled her flesh. “How tight are you here,
sweetheart? Tight like a brand new glove that I’m going to have to
stretch for my hand?”

Wet with her arousal, his fingertip slipped
past the rim painlessly. No. Not painlessly. A slow-starting burn
built and tingled through her veins, sweet and hot like cinnamon
candy. Gasping, she twisted her hands in the bed linens. Her whole
body tightened. Above her, eyes narrowed to glimmering slits, Aya
shook his head.

“Relax, Noelle. If you don’t, this,” he
wiggled his finger, a tiny movement, “is all either of us will
get.”

She moaned, pressing into her heels and
lifting her hips. “I want more. Give me more.”

He chuckled, a dark sound she’d come to
equally dread and crave, a sound of denial and promise. She wasn’t
surprised when he withdrew his touch. “You know it’s not going to
be that easy. Give me your hand.”

She unclenched her fingers and uncertainly
raised her hand, skimming the tips over his biceps. Aya caught her
wrist and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm, hot and wet
with tongue. Her throat tightened. He tickled the sensitive nerves
between her thumb and forefinger, licked the space between index
and middle, sucked her ring finger deep into his mouth and bit her
pinky, sharp and sweet. Her skin glistened with moisture from his
mouth, just like his cock had glistened as she’d knelt at his
feet.

The memory made her pussy clench. Noelle
raised her knees, drew them high against his hips. Silky hair
furred his flanks, teased her inner thighs. She wanted to wrap
herself around him, savor every texture.

But he had other plans. He always had other
plans.

His lips skimmed her knuckles before he
turned her hand palm-down and positioned it between her legs. “Get
them wet for me. Really wet. I want to see your shiny cream on your
fingers.”

“You want me to finger myself for you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I do. What are
you waiting for?”

She swallowed. What was she waiting for? Her
pussy was wet and slick and wanting. His touch would’ve been too
much but she had control over hers. The most control she’d been
granted since the first time he touched her. Tentatively, expecting
him to direct her pleasure, she parted her labia and slid four
fingers into the silky crevice, a full stroke that caught every
centimeter of flesh. Aya’s breath hissed through his teeth. He sat
back on his heels and cupped her knees, spreading her legs
wider.

“Wetter, Noelle. I want them wet enough to
slide into your pretty little ass.”

She’d thought herself too sensitive for
another orgasm but the rough timber of his voice and the blazing
heat in his eyes sent a pulse of readiness straight to her core.
Grinding the heel of her palm against her clit, she dipped two
fingers inside and scooped up the proof he wanted. She didn’t need
to see his cock to know what the sight did to him. Above the shadow
of his morning beard, his cheekbones flushed. The ruddy shade
reminded her of the deep blush of his erection. And just like that,
she craved him again, thick and hard and deep. Exhaling through her
nose, she tried to concentrate on giving him the show he
wanted.

Slippery flesh melted between her fingers,
parting easily. The edge of her palm slid across her clit as she
stretched her fingers and reached for the small entrance he wanted
to breach. Closing her eyes, she focused on sensation. Her skin
felt too tight but her muscles felt too loose, leaden as if she’d
lost control over them. She skimmed her wetness along the narrow
patch of flesh between openings. Above her, she heard the sound of
Aya’s breath, suddenly gone ragged. How did he see her? Pale
fingers, flushed folds, her stomach hollow as she inhaled, blew
out, compressed the dimple of her rear gate with the tip of her
middle finger.

“You’re playing with me,” he growled.

“Maybe a little. Do you want me to stop?”
Even as she asked the question, she gave him what he wanted.
Reluctant muscle surrendered and soft, sweet shards of pleasure
spread from the point of penetration. Her hips raised on their own,
her body seeking more. Noelle bit her lips, worked her middle
finger deeper.

Above her, Aya breathed a curse. He raked his
fingertips down her inner thighs, tenderizing the quivering
muscles. Widening her legs even further. Her knees touched the
mattress. His head bumped her wrist aside and his tongue touched
her clit. A cry broke past the barrier of her teeth and she shoved
the back of her head into the linens. Hard and deliberate, Aya
licked her, his tongue thrusting inside once before he raised his
head. She needed more. Her back bowed but he planted a hand between
her breasts and held her down. “Stay. Don’t move a single
inch.”

His weight left the bed. Disobeying, she
turned her head to watch him, struck once more by how perfect he
was. He didn’t go far, only across the room to crouch beside the
canvas bag he’d not yet unpacked. Long and thick, the muscles in
his thighs bunched as he dug through the pack. The hard planes of
his ass flexed, the shadowed line between them reminding her of his
intentions. Clearly visible between his splayed legs, even from
behind, his testicles hung heavy, full for her. Deity. Would he
fuck her from behind? Hard enough that his sac slapped her pussy
with every deep thrust? Coaxed by the thought, new wetness slid
beneath her palm.

Aya stood and turned to her. His cock rose
thick, flushed, reaching for her as he returned to the bed. Precum
glistened on the broad head. She ran her tongue over her lips and
raised her eyes up the length of his torso until she caught his
narrow-eyed stare. The ferocity in the tight, hard set of his jaw,
the flare of his nostrils, sent arrows of heat to her breasts. When
had he crossed the line between tender and relaxed to intent and
focused? Despite his orders to remain still, she arched her back,
presenting her breasts. His attention wavered, shifting below her
chin for the span of a breath before returning to her face.

“I told you not to move,” he said.

She wet her lips a second time and decided
not to apologize. “Can I suck you again?”

He shook his head slowly and palmed his
erection.

Long fingers, thick shaft…Noelle shuddered.
She wanted him to feed his hard flesh past her lips.
“
Please
, can I?”

A dark smile touched his face briefly. “Oh, I
promise to become very familiar with your mouth. But you know what
I want right now, don’t you?”

She knew. Around her fingertip, beneath her
palm, her lower body clenched. Tight muscle rippled. Aya paused
level with her shoulders and stroked her cheek. He leaned over to
kiss her, his tongue hot and greedy inside her mouth, his palm firm
on her throat, keeping her from rising into the kiss. When he
lifted his head, she swallowed. His fingertips pressed the long
tendons of her neck, responding to the flex, before they trailed
away.

“Tell me you know what I want right now,” he
instructed as he settled once more between her splayed legs.

“Do you like hearing me say dirty words?” She
watched as he unfurled his fist and revealed a small bottle. He
thumbed the cap open casually, attention fixed between her legs.
Noelle carefully teased her slightly-stretched anus with her index
finger. Heat flared across his cheeks, a red stain. She was certain
her face matched his flush for flush.

“I like knowing that you’re very clearly
aware of what I’m doing to you and what I’m going to do,” he
replied. Upending the bottle, he drizzled cool liquid over her
fingers. The lubricating moisture slid silky on her skin, a
different viscosity from her own fluids. Aya tilted his head, still
watching, and slowly stroked his cock. “Use two fingers, Noelle.
Make your ass slippery for me.”

A sudden wave of shyness crashed over her.
She started to raise her knees, to hide, but he saw her intention
and stopped her by pinning her thighs. “Noelle.”

Her breath shuddered. “You’re going to kill
me,” she whispered, staring at the ceiling.

“No death, just pleasure. I’m not going to
tell you again. Either use two fingers now or we stop.”

“Fine,” she muttered, shoving
self-consciousness away with annoyance. “I certainly hope you’re
not going to dangle your cock like bait for the rest of our
lives.”

“Might lose some of its power over the next
fifty years or so,” he said mildly. “But don’t be surprised if I
milk it until the appeal runs its course.”

“If you’d stop being such a damned tease, I’d
milk it for you,” she said, deliberately crude.

Aya lightly slapped her thigh, though a smile
eased his dark expression. “Noelle. Stop fucking with me. I want
inside your tight little ass but I refuse to hurt you in order to
take what I want.”

“Maybe you should help me.” But she finally
swirled her fingers through the lube and, holding her breath, slid
two fingers inside. Sensation doubled, sharpened. With the aid of
synthetic lubricant, she invaded deeper than she’d intended. A
sharp gasp burst past her lips.

He hissed a curse. “Deity, you’re beautiful.
Look at your nipples, hard as little rocks.”

His fingertips skimmed her stomach and
crested one breast, pausing to linger over the tight peak. Noelle
moaned, half-embarrassed, half-excited by the wet sounds of her
fingers slipping in and out of her ass as her hips rose and fell.
She wanted more. More fullness, more… “Aya, please.”

“Soon,” he promised. His free hand covered
hers, thick fingers twining around her slender digits, one broad
tip pressing between her knuckles, widening muscle, stretching
flesh.

Her vision blurred. She gave up trying to
watch him and closed her eyes, breathing hard, trying to focus on
the differences in sensation as he traveled between her breasts. He
tweaked each nipple in turn, blunt fingernails scraping fiery lines
between each mound.

“Please,” she moaned again. She removed her
fingers and wrapped her hand around his wrist, fumbled blindly for
his cock.

Aya swore. “Hold still.”

Tossing her head, she raised her knees and
lifted her hips, trying to tempt him. He mumbled something
incomprehensible and grasped both her ankles. Before she suspected
what he was going to do, he yanked both her feet off the bed and
raised them high, pushing her knees back toward her chest, securing
both ankles with one hand. Her hips tilted off the bed. He folded
her at the waist, lifting her bare ass for a light, stinging
slap.

“I told you to hold still,” he said, the
words low and rough. A trickle of liquid slid between her cheeks
and his fingers followed, smearing the lubricant along the crease.
“I mean it now, Noelle. Don’t move.”

How was she supposed to hold still? Every
nerve in her body twitched to move against him. But she knew he
would keep to his word. If she moved, he’d stop.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she said,
stretching her arms to grasp the edges of the mattress, to anchor
herself. Always, she was anchoring herself with him. Only
physically, though. She was coming to anticipate complete loss of
emotional gravity at his hands. No amount of holding on would keep
her rooted once he took full command of her.

Aya kissed her knee. His tongue tickled the
inner curve until she opened her eyes and met his. Once he had her
attention, he notched the head of his cock against her rear
entrance. “Don’t look away,” he said.

She swallowed. “I won’t.”

He lowered his chin but didn’t break eye
contact with her. Heat flared in his irises, coinciding with a
bloom of fire between them as his hips flexed and he gripped her
ankles tighter. Noelle’s lips parted. Her breath escaped in a rush
and he breached her in that instant. Pleasure sparked something
bright in his eyes. They practically glowed. She fought for breath
and caught his scent, spicy and sweet and soothing. Muscles eased
before they finished locking up. Her body relaxed, melted into the
mattress, and Aya exhaled, mumbling something that sounded like
“thank you” as her body surrendered. Aided by lubricant and her
give, he slid deeper, stretched her further.

Deity. Why hadn’t she asked for this before?
Every centimeter he forged robbed her of one more link to reality.
No matter how tightly she clung to the bed, she was going to float
away, and soon. Aya retreated, an excruciatingly full slide of hard
flesh through soft channel, and her ears began to buzz with humming
white noise. He shifted his grip on her ankles, repositioned his
hand and skimmed her clit as he surged forward and filled her a
second time. Her nipples tightened to near painful points. She
ached for his mouth, for something to dilute the intensity of his
presence inside her. She felt herself slipping away, merging into
him

“Too much,” she gasped, turning her head
aside, finally breaking contact with his eyes.

“It’s not too much.” He released her ankles.
She wrapped her legs around him, her feet crossing at his lower
back, and he came over her. The springy cushion of his pubic hair
abraded the flesh between her labia and his weight drove his cock
deep into her ass. Soft, seeking lips skimmed her throat and her
jaw. He tangled his fingers in her hair, cupped the back of her
head. A rough whisper caressed her ear. “Noelle, sweetheart. Stay
with me a little longer.”