Lost in You. Sommer Marsden
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and tugged gently, finding myself holding his head steady as I moved eagerly to meet his lips. He sucked hard on my clitoris and his fingers drove deep inside me again. He curled his fingers, played me like his own invented instrument. I was pretty sure he was magic. Some kind of sorcerer. He was pulling sensations out of me I’d never felt. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I was no virgin. I wasn’t even very shy in bed. But Dorian Martin inspired pleasure in me like I’d never known. An intoxicating rush of bliss that had my limbs heavy and my head light.
I came a second time with him lapping at me slowly. ‘You taste wonderful, Clover. Sweet and perfect. Just like your name. I like how you clutch at me when you come. But I’d like to hear you say my name.’
He moved up over me, the heat baking off him reminding me that it was cold and scary tonight. But I was here with him. So it all would be OK. I would be OK.
He shucked his trousers, his boxers. The socks went next. I watched it all in some kind of floating nirvana. When he returned to me, he studied me before moving over me. Despite his closeness, I had a sudden shattering moment of panic.
‘Is the door locked?’
‘No one else is here.’
‘Is it locked?’ I asked again, feeling the cold absence of sufficient air in my lungs.
He got up and moved to the door. It gave me enough time to study him in return. The hardness of his body, the lovely colour of his skin. His erection.
I bit my lower lip, waiting for the click of the thumb latch. When I heard it, air flooded my body and I could breathe again. ‘Thank you.’
‘One day you’ll have to explain,’ he said, surging up towards me from the bottom of the sofa like some predatory animal. It made me want to shriek in fear and laugh all at once. His presence and the way he handled himself cross-wired my natural instincts. I reached out to touch him. Brushing my fingertips over the ridges of his chest, down the flat of his belly. When I took him in hand we both froze. That moment stretched out like warm taffy.
‘I like the way you touch me.’ Again that half smile that brought to mind bad boys, rogues and pirates. It was perfect for Dorian Martin. It would have been an affectation on anyone else.
‘But it’s your natural state,’ I muttered without thinking about it.
‘Come again?’ He settled between my thighs and moved his hips side-to-side to truly seat himself at the centre of me. All that air I’d managed to locate fled again.
‘Sorry. Thinking aloud.’
‘Here’s the part where I ask you if you’re really truly sure,’ he said. He kissed my collarbone and then dragged his tongue over the place that he’d just kissed. When I moaned he licked one nipple before moving slowly, torturously, on to the next. I was panting by the time he was finished and I felt the resilient press of his cock to the wet split between my legs.
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