“Stay with me,” he says softly, reaching out with one hand to stroke from the top of my sex to my chin. As he moves his hand back down, he presses into me, one slow, deep thrust, and I moan, a luxuriant noise that sounds like he’s making me feel.

“Yes, for a while,” I reply, opening my eyes to his.

He’s watching me, his eyes black in the low light.

“Until I’ve had enough of you?”

“Yes, until we’ve had enough.”

He separates from me, his big hands sliding down to cup my butt. He sinks to his knees at the foot of the bed and sweeps his tongue from my entrance to my clit, drawing it sweetly into his mouth for a light suck. “Until we’ve had enough,” he agrees.

With the very tips of his fingers, the kiss of his lips and the softest tickle of his tongue, Sig teases me back to life. The pleasure of my climax shifts and blends to accommodate the rise of something else, something new. He weaves a magical spell over my body, ruthlessly winding me up with a ceaseless onslaught. His pace never quickens, yet never slows; it’s steady and maddening and, within minutes, he has my back arching off the bed and my lips begging for more. For deeper. For harder.

“You taste just like I knew you would. Addictive. Sexy. Sinful,” he murmurs against me, the unshaven scruff around his mouth a bristly, delicious torture. “I could lick you all night long and never get tired.”

Sweep, flick, suck, nibble, he doesn’t stop. All the while, one finger slowly penetrates me in long drags that force my hips to rock against him for more. I wriggle and writhe beneath him, ache turning into throb, throb turning into need. A grunt of frustration escapes my throat and Sig chuckles against me, a low, throaty sound that makes me quiver. “Be patient,” he whispers, brushing his mouth back and forth over me.

I’m panting, my infuriating impatience on the rise. “I need you inside me,” I plead.

“You do?” he asks, a smile in his voice.

“Sig, please!” I’m ready to snap and I know he can hear it in my voice.

“Be patient,” he says again.

He increases the pressure of his mouth, but not his finger. Still, it slips in and out, deep and deliberate. I rock against his face, against his hand, but he pulls back, unwilling to let me rush him, rush this. I grit my teeth and my abdomen trembles and jerks.

It hurts so good– the prolonged yet steady build– that a petulant sob swells behind the wall of my ribs. Unable to think of what I might do to ease it, I fist one hand in Sig’s short hair and I pull. Harder than I might’ve intended to, but enough to ease some of my angst.

Suddenly, Sig releases me. Without warning, he leans up and over my body, looping one arm beneath my knee and rolling my hips back toward me. Then, with one slick, thick thrust, he’s inside me. My startled yelp melts into a loud cry of satisfaction. He pounds me. That’s the best way I can describe it. Harder and harder, deeper and deeper, he plunges his length into me, bringing me back to a pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever known. I squeeze my eyes shut, aware only of the swirl of colors behind my lids as liquid heat pours through my muscles, turning them to quivering masses of release.

Waves still rolling through me, I manage to open fuzzy eyes and focus on Sig. He’s watching me, a fierce expression on his face. It seems he was waiting for me, waiting for me to open my eyes so we could finish this together.

The moment our eyes meet, I feel him tense and I know he’s ready to continue his own hunt. Gazes locked, I watch his expression, his intensity. I don’t think I could look away from his breathtaking face if I tried. So I don’t. I take him in. I revel in what he’s feeling, in what I do to him. And what he does to me. What we do to each other.

Sig arches his back and holds his upper body away from mine as he chases his own peak, grinding and swiveling his hips against mine in a way that forces my body to come along for his ride. Surge after surge, I’m slave to the flow of my own pleasure until Sig stiffens, forcing his body deep within mine until he collapses atop me, his sweat-slicked chest pressed tightly to mine.

********

Seconds or minutes or hours later, his harsh breathing having settled into deep inhalations and sighs to release them, Sig lifts his head and looks down at me, his chocolate eyes light and satisfied. More golden even. Like the color of molasses. “I’m glad you came.”

“I don’t think I could’ve stayed away.”

“I’m glad you didn’t try,” he admits, grinning down at me.

I feel clouds roll in, like fog settling over a lush, green field of contentment. “Sig, I–”

He lays his index finger over my lips. “We’ve still got a lot left of this night. Don’t ruin it.”

“But–”

“No buts. Tonight is for animal sex and happy thoughts. Nothing more. Got it?”

I smile. I can’t help myself. “Got it.”

With a rough kiss to my lips, Sig pulls out of me and rolls to his side, pulling me half onto his chest. I rest my head over his heart, somehow comforted by the steady thud of it beneath my ear.

Lazily, I draw tiny circles around his little flat man nipple. “Tell me about your family. Are you an only child, or…?”

“God no! Sometimes I used to wish I was, but I’m nowhere near an only child. I’ve got two brothers and a sister. Assholes, one and all.”

I slap his ribs. “Don’t say that! They’re your family.”

“What does that matter? Family can be assholes, too.”

“Yes, but you’re supposed to overlook it.”

“Fine,” he says with an exasperated sigh. “They’re not all assholes. At least not all the time.” I hear the rumble of his chuckle. It vibrates through my jawbone and tickles my lips. “Nah, I guess they’re pretty all right. The oldest can be a little overbearing sometimes. Total control freak. But he means well.”

“Are you closest to him?”

“No. I’m closest to my little sister. I’d never tell her, of course, but she’s pretty kickass. For a girl anyway,” he adds emphatically, giving my shoulder a squeeze. I twist his nipple. “Ow! God! That hurt!” he exclaims. Then he leans down to grab a handful of my butt and pinch. “Do it again.” I can hear the laugh in his voice.

“You’re incorrigible.”