Little Red Writing by Lila DiPasqua Page A

closed her eyes . . . And this felt so sublime.
    He turned to her other breast, lavishing upon it the same wicked torment—teasing licks, hard sucks, and light bites. He had her squirming, moaning, panting, starved for more.
    He was giving, not taking. Yet in giving, he was getting something in return—the pleasure of her pleasure. This was all so new. She’d never heard any man refer to sex the way he did. This was the kind of passion she’d imagined when she wrote those poems years ago. This was the kind of passion she had envisioned experiencing one day. This was the kind of passion she’d convinced herself she’d never know.
    With a growl, he tore his mouth off her. Her eyes flew open, her breathing sharp and shallow.
    Releasing her wrists, he yanked her skirts up, layer by layer, his handsome face etched with heated determination. Her heart pounded away the moments until she felt him untie her drawers and pull them off with a fierce tug.
    He tossed them carelessly onto the chair behind him, bent her knees, and pressed them back toward her, opening her wet sex to his view. She was so far gone, she wasn’t in the least bit embarrassed.
    His light gray eyes met her gaze. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “You look delicious. Good enough to eat.” Her insides danced. “Have you ever had a man pleasure you with his mouth?” he asked.
    She’d never had a man pleasure her. Period. Her carnal experience was limited to her encounters with Roland. They’d left her disappointed and dissatisfied. What Nicolas was doing to her was already more pleasure than she’d ever known.
    Somehow, Anne summoned her voice. “No.”
    “Then it’s time one did.” There was such wicked promise in his eyes, her heart lost a beat. She tensed, bracing herself for the thrill of his touch.
    He tightened his grip on her knees. “Relax. All you have to do is to enjoy it.”
    She nodded. “Good. Fine. Hurry .” She was dying. She doubted she would have objected to anything he wanted at the moment.
    Amusement flickered in his eyes for an instant before they darkened with desire once more. “I’m going to savor you.” He lowered his head between her legs.
    The first stroke of his tongue tore a cry from her throat. He stopped; his hand flew off her knee and covered her mouth. “You have to be quiet,” he said, tossing a quick glance at the door.
    She nodded again, quivering from the inside out.
    Gripping both her knees firmly once more, Nicolas lowered his hot mouth onto her needy flesh and groaned. She bit her lip and swallowed down her wail of pleasure.
    His skillful tongue licked her along her dewy folds, stimulating every overwrought nerve ending along the way. He varied between soft licks and stronger strokes. She sobbed for more. Nothing in her life had ever felt this good. Her orgasm was building, fast and fierce.
    His masterful sucks on her swollen bud sent her rushing to the precipice, but he stopped her from toppling into ecstasy every time by pulling away and lightly blowing cool air against her hot nub, holding her enthralled. Driving her wild.
    “Nicolas,” she said, his name a plea.
    He thrust his tongue inside her. She jerked. He then began sucking her juices, besieging her body with deep suctioning sensations. She squeezed her eyes shut, each pull of his mouth edging her closer and closer to the release she was frantic for.
    He pulled back.
    Her eyes flew open, dazed and desperate. She was on the brink!
    “You taste so good,” he said and licked her essence off his lips. “You’re going to come for me hard, aren’t you?”
    “Yes!” exploded from her lips. “ Please , don’t stop.”
    Releasing one of her knees, Nicolas slid two fingers inside her. She moaned at his possession.
    His fingers glided in and out of her soaked sex. She was instantly lost in the rhythmic plunge and drag making her inner muscles clench and release, pushing her once more toward a shattering climax.
    “That’s it, Anne.