Sylvia Day: Passion for Him

Distantly, she felt his hands on her thighs. The chill of the evening air over feverish skin betrayed the lifting of her gown. As everything tightened and coiled in anticipation of his touch, Amelia whimpered into his mouth. His knee intruded between hers, urging her legs apart. Shameless, she complied, spreading her thighs to give him access to the throbbing flesh at the apex.

Colin lifted his head and watched her as he cupped her sex in his hand. “You melt for me,” he breathed, his chest lifting and falling rapidly. He pushed two fingers inside her, and she arched in helpless pleasure. “You were made for me.”

The feel of him there, where she ached, was too much. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she breathed, “Come in me. Fill me.”

His gaze darkened, the irises swallowed by dilated pupils. “There is so much I can do to your body, Amelia. So many ways to impart pleasure. Shall I show you what you will miss when we part?”

“You left me first.”

“I came back.” His seductive tone was in sharp contrast to the pain she saw on his features. “Will you come back? If I love you well enough…if I addict your body to mine…will you come back to me?”

Her lower lip quivered and he licked across it, his breath hot and scented of liquor. His fingers advanced and retreated, plunging shallowly into her clenching sex, building her ardor with tender skill. It was searingly intimate, but in a different way than before. The emotions they bared were not hope and pleasure but despair and pain.

“It would be worth everything,” he said in a serrated whisper, “if there was any chance that you might love me again.”

“I never stopped.” She cried softly, tears trailing down her temples to wet her hair. “Lack of love for you is not the problem.”

Colin pressed his cheek to hers. “My greatest regret is that I could not be enough for you, despite my best efforts.”

Amelia turned her head and pressed her lips to his, unwilling to argue again about their differences when he was already hurting. He took her kiss with tangible desperation, his heart beating so violently, she could hear it over her own racing pulse. All the while his shoulders flexed beneath her touch, the muscles working to propel his fingers into her drenched, aching sex. She cried out softly, a thready sound of female surrender and lust.

The sound changed him; she felt it. The wounded boy from her past gave way to the determined man of her present. Desperation altered to dominance; despair altered to desire. When his head lifted and he met her gaze again, he had the devil in his eyes.

“If only you could see what I see,” he murmured, gentling his fingers, pulling free of her to slide across her clitoris with a slick, expert touch.

She gasped, her hips lifting involuntarily in an effort to increase the pressure of his teasing rubbing.

“Always hungry,” he whispered, “always passionate. You burn for me, Amelia, as if you had Gypsy blood in your veins.”

Colin nipped at her chin, then slid lower, licking along her throat until he reached the obtrusive ruffled neckline of her night rail. He moved, taking a kneeling position, hovering over her in a way that made her feel ravished. She was splayed beneath him, her clothes in disarray, his fingers touching her as only a husband should. The wantonness of her pose only increased her ardor, made her hotter and more desperate.

He pushed up her gown, higher and higher, until her stiffened nipples were kissed by the air and then by his mouth. His tongue was an instrument of pleasure and agony. The gentle licking over the tight peak made her clutch at his hair and pull him closer. As he suckled her, his cheeks hollowed, goading the sensations bombarding her until there was no way to register them all.

Colin. Her beautiful, exotic Colin was making love to her as she had never dreamed he would, and she could not resist him. His need and longing tapped into her own, freeing her of her inhibitions, making her a willing supplicant to his demands.

“Such beautiful breasts,” he praised, kissing across the valley between them to pay a like service to her neglected, jealous nipple. Colin cupped the swollen flesh with his hand, plumping it with gentle kneading, rolling the beaded point between thumb and forefinger. “You are so sweet and soft. I could lose myself in you for days…weeks…”

The thought of being the recipient of the full force of his desires was as arousing as his touch, and Amelia rode his hand, the need to orgasm becoming a driving urge. “Please…”

His teeth bit into her nipple, eliciting a gasp of surprise. Then he traveled lower to circle her navel with the point of his tongue. “Not yet.”

“Now,” she begged, her need so intense, she could hear how wet she was. “Please…now.”

Colin reared up to a kneeling position, leaving her bereft of his warmth and touch. He smiled as she protested, revealing the rakish dimples she had always loved. His shirtsleeves were tugged from the confinement of his breeches and pulled over his head, baring a sculpted chest and abdomen that made her mouth water. His skin was dark and stretched tightly over a highly defined musculature. She loved his body, always had. She adored the way hard labor made him powerful and strong.

“The way you look at me will keep us up all night,” he said with darkly sensual promise.

He reached for the placket of his breeches and freed the straining length of his erection. Whatever arguments of reason she might have uttered died a fiery end, her entire focus narrowing to encompass only the man before her. He was a sensual fantasy come to life with his glistening torso bared to the waist and his thick, hungry cock curving upward in proud enticement.

Licking her lips, she sat up and reached for him.

“Amelia…” His tone was a warning, but he made no move to deter her as she angled him down to meet her waiting mouth.

“Just a taste,” she whispered, licking her lips. “One taste…”

Her tongue swept across the tiny hole at the tip.

Colin’s breath hissed out between his teeth.

The skin was softer than anything she had ever touched before, and the taste of him, salty and primitively male, was an aphrodisiac. With a moan, Amelia circled the wide, flared head with her lips and gave a tentative suck.

“Dear God,” he groaned, shuddering. His hands came up to cup the back of her head.

Emboldened by his response and a wild desire to have him at her mercy, Amelia tilted her head and licked the pulsing length from top to bottom. The point of her tongue followed the path of a pulsing vein to the thick crest. She licked around and around, tasting the thick essence of his seed.

Colin was certain he would die of the pleasure Amelia bestowed with such enthusiasm. She seemed lost in the act, less focused on him and more on her own enjoyment. Her beautiful face was flushed, her green eyes glassy with arousal, her lips red and swollen and stretched tightly around his girth.

“Yes,” he whispered, as she moaned and sucked harder. “Your mouth is heaven…take me deeper…yes…”

His body ached with the force under which he leashed it. He was trembling, burning, gasping for air. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of the ring of her lips was killing him. An hour ago, he had thought he would never touch her again, never hold her or feel her hot and wet around his cock as she climaxed beneath him. The pain of that loss was nearly too much to survive. To lose all hope and be left with nothing, only to see this-his breeches barely parted, his cock engorged and throbbing with need, and Amelia…the love of his life…servicing his lust with such passionate fervor. It made the ecstasy of her luscious mouth agonizingly intense.