Velvet Haven

aching for something she didn’t know—harder, softer, she couldn’t say. She just knew she needed something .
    In alternating rhythms he stroked her, metal ball, then his velvety tip . . . metal ball, then tip, until she was mindless and rolling her hips for more of his touch. She was so out of control that she was pulling hard at her nipples, increasing her sensation as she moaned.
    While he pleasured her with his cock, Mairi felt the glide of his fingers down her spine. Up, then down, following the same path over and over. The skin all over her body was intensely sensitized. Her clitoris throbbed between pleasure and pain and the shattering need for release.
    He knew, because this time when he reached the dimples in her back, he did not stop, but went lower, between the crease of her buttocks, and stroked up and down in a teasing line of fire that he kept in time with his cock.
    “You’re ready to burst, aren’t you?” he murmured darkly in her ear. “You’d probably let me in here, wouldn’t you?” Gently he pressed his finger into her. “You gonna let me in, muirnin ?”
    Yes, she would let him in. She wanted him in every way.
    He slid his finger into her at the same time he stroked her clitoris with the metal ball at the tip of his cock. She fell apart then, and screamed his name. He held her tight, his fingers pressing hard into her thigh as the vibrations in her body spread out among the pathway of her nerves.
    She absorbed the vibrations of Bran’s body, too, bringing them in deeper. His energy coalesced with hers, making her orgasm even more potent.
    She was nearly done when he pulled away from her. “Don’t leave,” she whispered, reaching for him. But he grasped her and whirled her around so that she was facing him. His cock was huge and purple, the veins distended with need. She wanted his need, wanted to feel the length of him filling her hard as he pinned her to the shower wall with his body. She wanted it . . . but was he going to give her what she wanted?

    Bran thought she had to be the most gorgeous creature her God had ever created. Long hair fell down past her shoulders and her brown eyes had grown darker with passion. Her face was a perfect oval, and her lips were full and ripe. And her body. It was a thing of beauty. Full and lush with heavy pink-tipped breasts and round hips that filled up his palms. A soft little mound of a belly beckoned him, told him she was ready to be taken and explored. And hell, he was ready to take her, even though he knew he should do no such thing. She was his enemy.
    “It’s okay,” she whispered, as if she could sense the turmoil inside him. “Really, I want . . . it’s all right. Please, Bran,” she moaned, as he shifted the shower head to spray directly over her breasts, bathing them with warm water, making them all glossy and wet and slippery. He turned the ring of the shower head, changing the flow of water from a gentle spray to a hard beat, making sure the water hit her nipples. She gasped and arched.
    “Take them in your hands,” he said gruffly.
    She cupped her breasts, then shoved them tight together, letting the pulsing water hit her nipples. He penetrated her with his fingers, stroked her, felt her grow warmer, wetter . . . hotter.
    “You take my breath away, muirnin .” He tried to stem the words, to hide from the strange new feelings bubbling inside him. But he couldn’t. So he said it again with all the desperation he felt.
    She nodded and licked the tip of his finger as he brushed it across her lips. Unable to resist the temptation she offered, he lowered his head, nuzzling the valley of scented skin. His cock grew, and he drove it against her belly as he sucked her nipple greedily into his mouth.
    Her hand slid down between their molded bodies. Her fingertip found the tip of his cock, and she flicked at the metal ball while she ran her fingers along the sigils that decorated his shaft.
    His glans was on fire as she teased the piercing at the tip of his cock. Then her fingers moved down until his heavy length was in her palm. Gripping him, she stroked, softly at first, then more firmly, until she was tossing him off the way he liked it, hard and fast. He was ready to explode, but not in her hand.
    Their gaze met over the mounds of her breasts, and he reached for her wrist with one hand before gently tugging her down to her knees. They were kneeling, face-to-face. Their mouths met, hot and wet, kissing hungrily as their