Been Loving You Too Long by Seraphina Donavan

her lips, and then stepped back.   Taking her hand, he led her towards the bed.
    She reclined against the pillows in the classic pose of a seductress, her dark hair spread out on the pillow. Her sensuality seemed part of her, innate and without guile, and it made her so very different from many of the women of his acquaintance.   
    “I’ve wanted you for so long,” Vincent said, lying down beside her.   His hands moved once again to her breasts, kneading the tender flesh.   “There are a million reasons why this shouldn’t happen, but I just don’t give a damn.”   With the pads of his thumbs, he lightly brushed her nipples.
    Her response was a soft, shuddering sigh and the arching of her back, which lifted her breasts more fully into his grasp.
    Still teasing one nipple with his thumb, he closed his lips over the other.   Laving the hardened bud with his tongue, he savored the taste of her skin, sounds of pleasure escaped her lips.   When she was moaning, clutching his shoulders so tightly that her nails bit into his skin, he scored the sensitive nub with his teeth.
    She became mindless beneath him, her thighs parting in invitation, her hips arching up, seeking.
    Ophelia was on fire.   The rush and heat of their earlier coupling had provided its own pleasure, but this slow burn that he’d begun was driving her to the brink and beyond.   She felt empty inside, as if she wouldn’t be whole until he was inside her again.   Aching for him, she couldn’t stop touching him.   Her hands coasted over his shoulders, his back, and down to the waistband of his pants.
    Forcing enough of her attention away from her sensitive nipples, the exquisite torment of his skilled fingers and mouth, she managed to free the button and lower the zipper of his pants.  
    His cock was already thick and hard, a single drop of pearly liquid glistening at the tip.  
    Closing her hand around him, she dragged her thumb over the bead that had gathered and circled it delicately.   His answering groan prompted her to be bolder.   “I want to taste you.”
    “Next time,” he said.   “I have only so much control, Ophelia.”   He continued to lave her breasts, to tease and torment her budded nipples with his mouth, as his hand slid over her belly to the damp curls that shielded her sex.   His fingertips grazed lightly over her slit, before parting the slick folds and delving deeper, exploring her welcoming heat.  
    “Oh, God,” she moaned.   “That feels so good.”
    “I love how wet you are for me...tight and hot.   The sounds you make when the pleasure becomes so intense, it drives me wild,” he admitted.    Even as he said it, he moved his hand, withdrawing slightly only to plunge in again, deeper than before.   His thumb brushed against the hooded bud of her clit and she shuddered beneath him.
    Her head fell back against the pillows, her lips parting on a soft moan, her face contorted with pleasure.
    Repeating the motion, he began   to speak again, whispering all the things he wanted to do to her, all the things he wanted to make her feel.
    She was mindless with passion.   Her hips were bucking, seeking, and her breathing was ragged with need.   “Please, Vincent—I need you inside me.   Filling me.”
    Moving between her thighs, Vincent pressed his cock against her entrance, and with gentle pressure, rocked into her.  
    The scalding heat of her clasping around him seemed to be the sweetest torment   to him.   Circling his hips, he drove deeper until he was fully seated inside her.   Grasping her thighs, he pulled them up, hitching them higher on his hips, changing the angle slightly, allowing him to sink even deeper, until his balls rested against the lush curve of her bottom.   
    One thrust and she was quivering.   Withdrawing, he thrust again and she seemed to be shattering around him.   He gritted his teeth, as if fighting for control.
    The soft cries of her pleasure echoed in the room,
    When the