She didn’t know how to feel about his revelation. If she could rely on her ability as a rider to hear truth, she would have to say he was being very truthful. When she looked into his eyes, there was that same tenderness that had been there before. He couldn’t fake that, could he? If he could, he should go into acting.
“None of those women were shadow riders, bébé. I might not be happy with the way the Archambaults raised me, but I am a shadow rider and an Archambault. I believe in what we do. On some level, I knew I had already met the right woman destined for me. So, I was careful.”
The right woman destined for him. Was that who she was? What did that mean? So he could give the riders children? She wanted to look away from him. The hand around her throat was too large and kept her head in place. She wasn’t wearing cuffs, but his large frame positioned the way it was prevented movement.
His lips were back, kissing each of her eyelids, then the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth before settling on her lips. This time there was a demand in his kiss and she opened for him, unable to deny him anything.
His fingers stroked her breast as he kissed his way to the upper curve. “I assure you, Brielle, between us, there is no chance of boredom. I am very inventive. I have every intention of earning your trust. We made vows to communicate with one another. When I want something from you, I’ll tell you. You promised to tell me.”
She couldn’t help but squirm a little. She had signed that paper saying she would ask for what she wanted or needed. She would talk things over with her partner. Unfortunately, that was extremely difficult for her.
His teeth nipped and then bit down with exquisite gentleness on her nipple. It wasn’t quite painful, but just the anticipation had her catching her breath and bucking her hips. One of his hands was still wrapped around her throat, and when she arched her neck back, her pulse drummed into his palm.
“I know you have trouble expressing what you want, but we’ll keep working at it.” His tongue lapped at her nipple, sending flashes of heat through her body. “Communication is necessary in all relationships, but in one like ours, especially.”
His mouth closed around her breast, sucked deep and hard, flattening her nipple to the roof of his mouth. The jolt was like lightning streaking through her body straight to her core, igniting a wildfire. Her nipple and clit had a straight line to each other. The harder he sucked, the more the conflagration built.
His hand slipped from her throat, stroked with infinite care over the curve over her right breast until his fingers found her nipple. He rolled and tugged in time with the rhythm of his mouth pulling at her left breast. Then his fingers pinched down, gently at first, his teeth finding her left nipple to match the increasing clamp.
Elie lifted his head to watch her expression. His knees shifted, moving subtly up on her thighs, forcing them even wider apart. Because he’d started so gently and the increase in pressure was so slow, at first, she was mostly aware of the way her legs were so wide, her sex so completely open and exposed. She wasn’t just damp. She was slick, even wet, once again desperate for him. Then the burn in her breasts turned to raging pinpoints of something between pain and pleasure. The fire was exactly what she loved, bordering on too much, but not nearly enough.
She found herself arching her back, thrusting her breasts at him, not certain if she wanted more or if she was trying to ease the ache. He let go of her right nipple first and slid his hand down her belly to her stiff, desperate clit. The blood pounded there. The moment he touched her, she nearly exploded. His teeth released her, but his fingers were exploring her slick entrance as his tongue licked at her nipples.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“It isn’t difficult to tell me what you like. Your body tells me, but I prefer to hear you say it. I want to know everything I do that makes you respond to me.”
Hearing him talk made her respond to him in every way. He kissed his way down her belly, his tongue swirling in her belly button, and then paying attention once more to the scar there. She didn’t know why, but that made her feel cared for and brought tears burning close. One hand settled in his hair. She didn’t know if he would object and she almost pulled her hand back, but when he didn’t say anything, she curled her fingers deeper, needing the connection.
Brielle couldn’t take her eyes off Elie, afraid if she did, he might disappear. She might wake up to find this was one of her many erotic fantasies. Her breath exploded out of her lungs when he looped her legs on his arms, forcing them wider still, and without any preamble settled his mouth on her, stabbing his tongue deep and flicking her clit with his finger, hard.