Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

a bid for sympathy, he lived his life in black and white and shades of gray.
    'I can only give you who I am, whatever that is, Joley, but I can promise you'll never regret it. I'll never betray you.
    I'll always put you and your needs before my own.' He kissed the tip of her nose, slid his tongue over the curve of her lower lip. 'Even when you don't know what you want, like right this moment.' His hands shifted, cupped her breast, thumbs rasping over her nipples until she wanted to cry out to him for more.
    Joley slipped her arms around him and arched her body closer. 'Then I'm glad my music touched you, Ilya.'
    He bent his head to the twin peaks, lapping and nuzzling with his hot mouth, teeth tugging and hands claiming. Each strong pull of his mouth sent a wash of liquid fire sizzling over his thickened cock. T want to hear your screams again, Joley. I need to hear them and feel your body milking me dry.' He braced himself over her.
    She swallowed hard as he began to move again, long, slow strokes that sent sizzling fire streaking up and down her body. She gasped and clung to him, trying to be careful not to jar his injured arm.
    'Your music saved my life, Joley. It changed my world.'
    'You've changed mine,' she admitted. 'I've never felt like you make me feel.' Beautiful. Wanted. Needed. Sexy. More than sexy. And so hungry for him. She loved his body - the hard, defined muscles, his enormous strength, the things he could do just by looking at her, let alone touching her.
    Every time his body thrust into hers, she felt stretched and full. She was burning alive, from the inside out. He began to pump into her hard and fast, building the aching need until she felt almost desperate for release. She reached for it -
    that perfect explosion of her body - but he pulled back, slipping her legs through his arms so he held her open for him and gave his body better leverage.
    'Ilya.' She gasped his name in a plea. 'What are you doing?' Because she needed him, needed release from the terrible tension he'd built so fast.
    'Marry me, Joley.'
    His face could have been carved out of stone, a vision of carnal lust, but his eyes - his eyes were alive with love -
    unmistakable love. Her body pulsed around his; she couldn't stop the involuntary writhing under him, desperate for the release only he could provide.

    'Marry you?' She echoed the word almost blankly. Shocked. It was the last thing she'd expected.
    'Say it. Promise me. I need to know you love me the way I am.'
    Her body shook, trembled with the aching tension. She could barely think straight. 'Are you sure, Ilya? Are you really sure that's what you want, because marriage for me is forever.'
    He surged into her, another hard and fast stroke that forced a small scream from her sensitized body. He stretched her out on a rack of tormenting pleasure as he changed his pace, pushing through her tight, swollen muscles with excruciating slowness.
    'Forever then, because there is no divorce for a woman with that mark on her palm.'
    She arched her hips, trying to force his penetration. 'Yes then. Yes.'
    He lost what ragged control he had, plunging into her over and over again, his rhythm fast and hard and utterly devastating. He buried the long, full length of himself completely, driving deep with each stroke into her tight, silken channel. She screamed as every muscle in her body tightened, as her very bones seemed to contract, as every cell and nerve focused on one spot. His hips thrust harder, his arms locking her in place. Her muscles convulsed around him, rippling up and outward, sending shock waves of pleasure rocketing through her. Her body clamped down hard on his, taking him with her so that his hoarse cries echoed around hers.
    Ilya collapsed over her, laying his head over her shoulder, fighting for air for a few moments, and then he rolled, taking her with him so that she blanketed his body with hers.
    Joley lay as limp as a rag doll over the top of him, her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 'I'm exhausted.'
    'How's your head feeling?'
    'I forgot about it. It must be better.'
    'No nagging headache.'
    She laughed, she couldn't help it. 'That's funny.' She kissed his chest and throat, nibbled on his chin and then lay back down again, as if that was all the strength she could muster.
    'Why's that funny?'
    Joley lifted her head again and studied his face. 'Poor baby, you really don't know, do you?
    Supposedly men say women use headaches as an excuse