His lips still on mine, Hemi skims his hands down my back. When he reaches my hips, I feel him moan into my mouth. He pulls his head back.
“What’s wrong?” I pant, looking up into his handsome face.
“You’re not wearing anything else.”
I shrug. “What was the point?”
As though my simple clothing somehow further fuels his passion, Hemi growls when he crushes my lips beneath his, lifting me off my feet and turning to set me on the end of the tattoo table.
Never taking his mouth from mine, I hear the whir of the small motor as Hemi raises the surface. When it stops, he is able to slip his hips easily between my legs. The perfect height, the perfect position.
He speaks against my lips, his hands roaming over the skin of my arms and waist. “Every second that I spent inking this beautiful skin, I wanted to put my lips on it.”
Hemi kisses a path across my jaw and down my neck, pressing me backward as he reaches my shoulder. I brace myself on my palms, flattened on the table behind me.
“With every butterfly I created, I’d get closer and closer to these,” he says, gently cupping my br**sts, “and I’d think to myself that I couldn’t do it one more time. Not one more, or I’d explode.” Hemi brushes his palms over my ni**les. They tingle painfully, my br**sts heavy with need. “I don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of putting them in my mouth,” he says, his lips snaking their way toward the peaks. “Of feeling you shiver when I do.”
Hemi’s hot mouth closes over my nipple and I gasp, the sensation overwhelming it feels so good. As if he made it so, to happen exactly as he’d imagined, a shiver of pure pleasure ripples through me. All I feel is heat—heat from his mouth, heat from his hands, heat from his body where he’s standing between my legs. Even the cool vinyl beneath me feels warm.
“Mmmm,” he growls, the sound vibrating into my nipple, “just like that.”
As he licks and sucks at one, Hemi toys with the other, his fingers rolling and pinching it, squeezing and tweaking it.
“But nothing prepared me for tonight,” he whispers as he brings his hands around to grip mine, loosening them from the vinyl and easing me farther back, onto my elbows. “I didn’t think I could want you anymore until I saw you lying there tonight. I knew then that no matter how hard I fought, I wouldn’t be able to rest until I could feel you coming on my fingers. Until I could take them from inside you and lick the juice from them.”
His hands skim down my sides and slide under my butt, pulling my hips closer to the edge of the bed. Hemi wedges himself into the V. His body and his clothes graze me there, making me ache for more pressure, for something to fill the emptiness, for Hemi to quiet the throb.
Then his lips are on mine again, his hands finding their way to the place I crave them most. I feel one fingertip brush the outside before Hemi drags it along the crease of me. I gasp again, unaccustomed to the myriad sensations he’s inciting.
“You like that?” he whispers against my lips. “You want more?”
I can’t speak. All I can do is give him one short, breathless moan.
“That’s right, baby. I wanna hear it.”
His tongue licks at my lips as he massages my throbbing flesh with his finger.
“Holy shit, you’re so wet,” he groans. “I wanna be inside you so bad.”
He slides his tongue into my mouth just as his finger enters me. Slowly, carefully, he licks along my tongue, tasting me deeply as his finger explores my body. I feel the pressure of it as Hemi bends his finger and drags it out, slowly. A tightness squeezes my stomach and tension builds between my legs. I want to beg, to plead, but the words won’t come. Only sounds.
“I’m gonna make you come for me, Sloane. And I wanna hear you when I do.”
He introduces another finger, moving them both into me as he uses the thumb of his other hand to touch the sensitive muscle at the top of my folds. I feel like I’m on the verge of flying apart when he takes my clitoris between his fingertips and tugs.
“That’s right, baby,” he says when my hips start to move against his hands. “Look down, Sloane. Watch what I’m doing to you.”
Hemi leans his chest away from mine enough that I can see, that I can do as he asks. Two fingers of one hand are disappearing inside me, his knuckles pressing into my spread folds. His other hand is cupping my hip, his thumb working in tight little circles over my clitoris.
“The next time you watch, you’ll be seeing my c**k pounding into you and coming out slick and wet. And you’ll see me pull out and come. Right here,” he says, flicking the nub of swollen flesh as he drives another finger into me.
His voice gets softer and softer, sounds farther and farther away as my world sharpens to a pinpoint focus. Everything is dim compared to what Hemi is doing to me with his hands.
And then my breathing stops, my breath caught in a tight pocket inside my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut as a loud moan is torn from me. Light explodes behind my lids. Fire rains through me. Liquid, hot and glowing, pours into my core and out onto his hands.
“That’s it, Sloane. Oh, God, that’s it. Come for me.”
His fingers are magic, his words a heady elixir. After a few seconds of nothing but intense sensation, a numbness sneaks into my limbs, making them heavy. My arms won’t support me anymore and I fall back onto the padded surface of the table. My breath is back, expelled from my body in a series of shallow pants.
When I can finally open my eyes, I glance down and see Hemi watching me, a ravenous look on his face. Slowly, as I watch, he raises his hand to his mouth and slides his tongue along one long finger. “Holy fuc—” The expression is cut off when he grits his teeth and closes his eyes. He leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of my hips and letting his head hang down again. I hear him growl and feel him pound his palms into the padding of the table. When he speaks, I have to strain to hear him. “I’m stopping tonight, Sloane. I want this choice to be yours.”
“Choice?” I say, confused.
Hemi looks up at me. He looks almost like he’s in pain. “Yes, this is a decision you need to make when there’s no pressure, no one to sway you. When I’m not rock hard with the need to get inside you.”
The heaviness between my thighs recedes and I come back to life with a tingle at his words.
“You’re not pressuring me.”
“I’ve known a lot of different kinds of women. But none like you. Not one. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”