He rolled her over so she was on top of him, his hand firm on her bottom as he kept his thrusts going. How did he know this was the only way she could orgasm without direct stimulation? She felt the first wave of pleasure like an explosion in her body. She arched her back and rode him in a desperate, wanton manner, her hair flying about her shoulders as she followed the tantalising lure of a mind-blowing orgasm.
And then she was there. Flying off into the stratosphere with a panting cry as the pleasure rocked through her like a powerful earthquake. She shook and shuddered, she whimpered and cried. She clung on as the last waves washed over her, leaving her floating in a place where no thought could spoil the glow of ultimate pleasure.
James rolled her back over to her back, still thickly, powerfully encased in her body, his eyes glittering with the build-up of passion. ‘Good for you?’
Aiesha moved her body against him, wanting him to finally let go so she could feel the vibrations of his release. ‘You know it was.’
The dark blue in his eyes darkened to a shade short of black. ‘You could be pretending. It’s hard for most men to tell the difference.’
She cocked her head at him. ‘But I suppose you can?’
He brushed his lips against hers. ‘Let’s put it this way. I don’t stop until I’m absolutely sure.’
Aiesha shivered again as he began to thrust deeply and rhythmically. His pace went from slow, almost lazily so, but then he gradually upped the speed until he was rocking against her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her like thrashing waves against a cliff face.
She gripped the taut curve of his buttocks, holding him to her, urging him on, delighting in the weight of him, the way he filled her, stretched her, tantalised her with the friction of male desire against female flesh. She was climbing towards the summit again, all of her nerves tight as a tripwire, all the sensations gathering again in the tightly swollen bud of her clitoris.
She wanted to come so badly but wondered if she should tell him what she needed to get there. But then he repositioned himself, shifting slightly so he could bring his hand down to her, stroking her with just the right pressure and speed.
It was impossible not to come. She threw her head back and succumbed to it, letting it rip through her like a speeding train. It shook and rattled her from head to foot until she was gasping and just shy of sobbing.
And still he hadn’t taken his own pleasure.
Aiesha marvelled at his self-control but another part of her felt a tiny bit irritated by it. Did he find her so easy to resist? Wasn’t he the least bit overcome by his passion for her by now? In her experience, men got her orgasm out of the way, often times in a token fashion, and went for their own with a single-minded and often selfish determination. They shifted her to the position they wanted and pumped away, not checking to see if she was too tender or uncomfortable.
But James waited until she was breathing normally again. He even stroked her hair back off her face, watching her with those ink-dark eyes. ‘Ready for round three?’
‘I only ever orgasm a couple of times, if that.’ Sometimes not at all.
The corners of his mouth lifted. ‘First time for everything.’
Aiesha’s belly quivered at the smouldering look in his eyes. ‘What about you?’
‘I’m getting to that.’
She stifled a gasp as he started those slow but deliciously rhythmic thrusts. ‘Are you counting backwards or thinking of your mother doing it or something?’
He stroked a lazy hand over the curve of her breast. ‘What’s the rush?’
She gave him an arch look. ‘What’s the hold-up?’
A slight frown pulled at his brow. ‘Are you uncomfortable?’
‘No, it’s just I’m not used to a guy taking so long to get the job done. I’m used to “wham, bam, did you come? Thank you, ma’am.”’
He studied her expression for a long beat or two. ‘You don’t always enjoy sex?’
Aiesha wished she hadn’t been so transparent. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You implied it.’
She concentrated her gaze at the V-shaped dish at the top of his sternum. Why did he persist in trying to know her? She didn’t want to be known. She wanted to be separate. Unknowable. Unreachable. Didn’t she? ‘Sex is sex.’
He tipped up her chin with a fingertip, locking his gaze with hers. ‘Sex can be so much more than that.’
Aiesha was conscious of the length of him still buried deep inside her. He had stilled his movements, but he was there. Waiting. Wanting. She tried to disguise a swallow but she saw his eyes follow the up and down motion of her throat. She sent the point of her tongue out in a quick brush over her lips, but he followed that, too. Then he traced the outline of her mouth with the tip of his index finger in an achingly slow motion, every millimetre of her flesh tingling at the contact. Nerves she didn’t know she possessed hummed and buzzed. Her body trembled, the need building to a level she hadn’t encountered before. Was this how it was supposed to feel? Wanting someone so much it physically hurt? Needing their touch so much it was as important and as necessary as the air she breathed? How could she have sold herself short for all this time?