his mouth left hers to travel down her throat to her left nipple. His hand went to her right breast, kneading, massaging, tugging and rolling while she sobbed with need against his chest. He wasnât in the least gentle. He was rough, demanding, possessive. He wrenched her bodyâs responses out of her, driving that hunger until she was so needy she was nearly sobbing for him.
His hands and mouth were relentless, refusing to allow her to catch her breath or her mind. The hunger in her was so sharp and terrible and savage she wanted to strip him of his clothes and climb over him like a cat in heat.
She licked at his chest, tasting his skin. Tasting the finesheen that coated him. He tasted all male. Feral and as wild as she felt. It wasnât enough, and she was desperate to get at him. Her hands fell to the buttons of his jeans, fumbling, her breath ragged and needy. His hands dropped to the waistband of her jeans. He shoved the offending material off her hips, taking her panties along as well. The relief against her burning skin was tremendous.
âStep out of them.â
The sound of his voice stunned her. She almost couldnât hear him with the strange roaring in her ears, with the pounding of her blood rushing through her veins or the hammering of her own heart.
He practically ripped the jeans off of her and was down on his knees, pushing her thighs apart, and then his mouth was there. His tongue plunged deep. Then his finger followed. She came apart. Legs shaking, thighs dancing, her breasts on fire while an earthquake took possession of her body. He didnât stop. His mouth was as relentless as his hands.
âMore,â he growled in a kind of fury. âAgain.â
Her body was already consumed with fire, burning hot, burning out of control. She didnât have time to think. To catch her breath. There was only feeling. Pure feeling. She caught at his hair, one hand on his shoulder, trying to stay upright when she was coming apart. Flying too high. She had no choice. He gave her no choice, driving her up fast and wild a second time so that a tsunami hit this time, taking her completely.
Then his mouth was gone, and he yanked his jeans to his ankles, dragging her down to the floor beside him, his hands on her head, guiding her mouth to him. He was big. Bigger than she thought a man could be. He looked intimidating, as if he wouldnât fit anywhere. Not her mouth. Certainly not inside of her. She knew she should slow down. Tell him sheâd never done this. She had no idea what to do, but the fire was inside of her and his hands were insistent.
âYour mouth, baby, right now. I need it.â
His voice was harsh. Thrilling. In as desperate need as she felt. She licked up the shaft, closed her eyes and sucked the large head into her mouth. She felt him jerk. Swell impossibly larger. His hands were firmer. Tugging on her hair. The bite of pain in her scalp only added to the crazy hunger building until she wanted to weep with need.
Deep inside, tension coiled tighter and spread, building again, and she needed release. She needed satisfaction. She needed that terrible hunger assuaged, and only Elijah seemed to know what to do. She didnât. So she used her mouth and tongue, following his harsh, whispered commands. Or tried to. He was nearly as brutal with her mouth as he had been when kissing her.
Then he was pulling away from her, pushing her to the floor, yanking her legs apart to kneel between her thighs. His eyes were on her face. His dark features were a mask, sensual lines carved deep. Eyes alive with lust. With hunger. With possession.
âHurry,â she whispered.
He took her fast, driving through her tight folds ruthlessly, slamming deep, his hips a jackhammer, pushing through her protesting muscles and her thin barrier to lodge deep inside her. Pain ripped through her. Bright. Hot. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her eyes were on his. He bent