Chapter 276: You’re Wet, I Can Feel You Through My Clothes

It was hot. His mouth was so hot, wet and burning, and he sucked her in slow and deep, drawing hard, his tongue flicking over the tip with a precision that made her hips jerk against him. She had never felt anything like it. Heat poured from his mouth into her skin and down through her body in a long slow wave, and she clutched at his shoulders and dug her nails in.

"Oh god. Oh....Draeven...."

He growled against her.

The sound vibrated through her breast and straight into her pussy. He switched to the other nipple, and it was the same, the heat, the suction, the lash of his tongue. His hand stayed on the first, thumb working it, keeping it wet and aching. He took his time. He kissed the soft underside of her breast, and the hollow between them, and drew her nipple between his lips and tugged, and let it go with a soft wet pop, and took it again.

She couldn’t think.

She had known her breasts were sensitive. She had not known they were a doorway. Every pull of his mouth ran straight down her spine and pooled between her legs, and she was wet, she could feel it, soaking through the front of his trousers where she pressed against him.

"You’re wet," he said roughly, lifting his head. His lips were red and shining. "I can feel you through my clothes."

"Then stop teasing."

"I’m not teasing." He dragged his thumb across her wet nipple, and she whimpered. "I’m learning you. You like it when I use my tongue. You like it when I suck harder. You like it when...." He took her nipple between his teeth, very gently, and tugged, and she moaned. "Yes. That."

"I want you inside me."

His whole body jolted.

"I want you inside me now," Morgana said, shaking. "Please. Draeven. I can’t wait."

"You said you wanted to take it slow."

"I said no such thing. You said it."

His forehead dropped against hers. He was laughing, silently, and trembling, and his breath was hot on her mouth.

"I did say that."

"You’re a liar."

"I am." His hands slid down her ribs and gripped her hips. "I am a very big liar. I was going to take all night."

"Do it later."

"Gods help me. Yes."

He moved one hand between them. She heard the rasp of a belt, the whisper of fabric, and then something hot and hard and heavy settled against the inside of her thigh. She looked down before she could stop herself.

His cock was thick.

Thicker than she had been ready for, and long, flushed dark at the head and glistening already at the tip. It rested against her with a weight that made her breath catch. Heat radiated from it, like a hand held near a fire.

"Look at me," Draeven said.

She did.

"If it’s too much, you tell me."

"It won’t be."

"Tell me anyway."

"I will."

He held her gaze. He angled his hips, and the broad head of his cock nudged against her pussy, and it started sliding in. She felt the stretch begin, the hot blunt pressure, and her lips parted.

He pushed in.

It was slow. It was the slowest thing, even then, even with the whole of him shaking. He sank into her an inch at a time, and she felt every one of them. The thick head stretching her open. His dick dragging deep inside. She clung to his shoulders and her breath came in shuddering little gasps, and he stopped halfway, trembling, with sweat on his brow.

"Breathe," he said. "Morgana. Look at me. Breathe."

"I’m....it’s...."

"Too much?"

"No." She laughed, shaky. "It’s good. It’s so good. Keep going."

A harsh sound broke out of him.

He pushed the rest of the way in, and his hips met hers, and he was buried to the base. For a long moment neither of them moved. She felt him inside her, filling her, so deep it seemed to reach her heart, and she felt his cock throb against her walls in time with his pulse.

"Fuck," Draeven whispered.

It was the first time she had ever heard him swear. It undid something in her.

"Move," she said. "Please."

He pulled out slowly and pushed back in.

The door rattled in its frame.

He did it again, harder, and she cried out. The oak bumped against her back with every thrust, a steady rhythm that built quickly, too quickly, her whole body winding tight. He gripped her thighs and held her up and drove into her with deep, hard, controlled strokes, each one reaching the place inside her that made her see white.

"That’s it," he said through his teeth. "Take me. You feel.....gods, you feel....."

"Don’t stop...."

"I won’t."

He bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth again, and the double sensation, his cock buried in her and his mouth burning on her breast, broke something loose. She came with a cry that echoed off the stone. Her pussy clamped down on him in hard, rhythmic pulses, and her whole body locked around him, and she heard him curse against her skin.

"Morgana....wait....I can’t...."

His control cracked.

She felt it go. His thrusts lost their rhythm, turned rough and desperate, and his hands gripped her so hard she knew there would be marks. He buried his face in her neck and pounded into her through the last of her orgasm, and then he went rigid, and she felt him come. Hot and thick and pulsing, deep inside her, his whole body shaking with it, her name torn out of him like something broken.

For a long time, they stayed like that, pressed to the door, breathing.

Draeven lifted his head.

He looked wrecked. His hair was in his eyes and his chest was heaving, and the gold of his gaze had gone soft and dazed. He looked at her, and his face crumpled with something that was half horror and half laughter.

"I’m sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"That was not....I did not mean for it to go like that. I meant to be careful. I meant to take my time. And I took you against a door in about four minutes like a boy....."