Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [119]
Aleksei groaned into my mouth, his arms encircling my waist hard, his hands pressing against my back. In the bright sunlight, he pulled me down atop him, kissing me fervently.
“No sin?” I asked, breathless.
He shook his head. “No sin.” He tugged away my head-scarf. “Why are you wearing this? You hate it.”
“True,” I agreed.
He stroked my hair. “It is as soft as it looks.”
“Oh, aye?” I kissed his throat, biting softly at his skin.
He groaned again, his back arching. “Moirin, don’t… don’t. It’s too much. I want to see you. I need to see you.”
I sat back on my heels. “Then do.”
Aleksei rose. I let him pull me to my feet. His big hands clutched folds of my drab woolen dress, lifting it and easing it over my head, discarding it. His hands tugged down my undergarments, and I stepped out of them.
“Oh, God.” With profound reverence, he took his deity’s name in vain, his voice shaking as he gazed at me. “Oh, God! Moirin. You are so very, very beautiful.”
“So are you.” I unlaced his shirt and removed it deftly. “So are you, sweet Aleksei.” His pale skin gleamed in the sunlight, stretched taut over his angular bones. I trailed my fingertips over the jutting ridges of his collarbones, over his hard chest and his lean belly. I slid one finger along the waist of his breeches, glancing up at him. “May I?”
He swallowed. “Yes.”
Kneeling, I unlaced his breeches and eased them down over his narrow hips. His erect phallus sprang free, straining so hard it looked as though it must hurt. I blew softly on it, and Aleksei groaned at the touch of my warm breath.
“Don’t… don’t…” He breathed raggedly.
“Do you think it unclean?” I stroked his phallus lightly, feeling the silken skin sliding over the rigid core, and swirled my tongue gently around the swollen head. “It is the staff of life, Aleksei.”
“No, I know.” He took a step backward, stumbling in the breeches I hadn’t finished removing, and sat down hard on the edge of the bed. “It’s just too much! Just the sight of you doing it. I don’t want to—”
“Ah.” I hid a smile. It had been a long time since I’d been with a man as young and inexperienced as Aleksei, fearful of spilling his seed too soon. “Don’t worry, sweet boy,” I said, pulling off his breeches. “We have all the time in the world.”
He didn’t protest when I took him into my mouth, only made a strangled sound deep in his throat and clutched my head. I performed the languisement as an act of worship—albeit a brief one, to be sure. Aleksei’s hips jerked forward as he poured his seed and years upon years’ worth of repressed desire into my mouth.
“God!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh, God!”
I sat back, smiling.
Aleksei eyed me, flushed for once with pleasure and not shame. “You are a witch,” he murmured, reaching down to take my hands. “Come here.”
I let him tug me onto the bed beside him, where he kissed me without reservation, his tongue exploring my mouth, his hands exploring my body. He was Naamah’s child, and he had found his element. He kissed my throat, hands cupping my breasts, then gave me an inquiring look.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh, yes.”
His tawny head moved lower, his mouth closing over one nipple, suckling hard. Stone and sea, I had been too long deprived! I shivered with pleasure and ran my fingers through his hair, encouraging him.
“You like that.” Aleksei lifted his head, eyes bright.
“Oh, yes,” I said languidly.
“What else?”
I took his hand, guiding it between my thighs. “Touch me. Stroke me.”
He did, propping himself on one elbow, gazing at the cleft of my nether-lips with intense interest. “So soft! And so hot and so wet. I didn’t know.”
“It means you’re arousing me,” I murmured.
With one fingertip, he circled Naamah’s Pearl, caressing my tender, sensitive bud. “And this?”
I jerked involuntarily. “Is the seat of a woman’s pleasure, my hero,” I said breathlessly. “Your instincts are true.”
Aleksei smiled. “Shall I kiss you there?”
“If you wish.” I hoped he did.
“I think I do.” Kneeling between