The_Color_of_Love_-_Radclyffe (Рэдклифф) - страница 128

“I want you so much.” Derian braced herself on one arm, watching Emily’s face. “I want to make you come.”

“So, so good.” Emily arched beneath her touches, electric with desire. “Take, touch me.”

Derian stroked between Emily’s thighs, and Emily’s eyelids fluttered. Emily’s lips parted, her unfocused gaze sought Derian’s, and her body tightened. Derian kissed her gently and slid deep inside her. Emily’s cry against her mouth filled her with a primitive surge of triumph. She stroked in time to the lift and fall of Emily’s hips, and when Emily covered her hand to guide her, her heart nearly stopped. Chained by desire, she willed herself to Emily’s call.

“You’re going to make me come,” Emily exclaimed, part shock, part pleasure.

Derian stilled, every sense focused on feeling her, hearing her, seeing her come apart with pleasure. When Emily gave herself over, the moment was forever and swifter than a heartbeat. So powerful, so exquisitely perfect.

“More,” Derian whispered and slid down to take her into her mouth. Emily’s hands came into her hair and she surged into Derian’s mouth. Derian teased her, stroked her, took her to the edge and over again. Emily’s wild cry rifled down her spine, fired her blood. She wanted never to move, but the pull of Emily’s hands on her shoulders drew her upward and then somehow she was on her back.

Emily straddled her thighs and leaned down to kiss her, her hair a soft curtain around Derian’s face. She clasped Emily’s hips, guided her back and forth in a slow roll against her as they kissed. Emily came again in short, ecstatic thrusts against Derian’s stomach. Derian rose up and cradled her in the curve of her body. She kissed her, stroked the damp hair from her cheek. “You’re amazing.”

Emily laughed weakly. “I think that’s my line.”

“No line,” Derian whispered, kissing her closed lids, her mouth, her neck. Emily made soft contented sighs, caressing Derian’s breasts and belly. Derian shuddered. “And you’re pretty much driving me crazy.”

“My turn,” Emily said in a throaty commanding tone. She pressed her hand to the center of Derian’s chest and pushed her down. Still curled beside her, her hair spread out on Derian’s chest, she kissed her throat and stroked her chest and belly and cupped between her thighs.

“I love the way you touch me.” Never had Derian wanted so much to be taken.

Emily gave another of those contented sounds, her mouth traveling over Derian’s breasts as her fingers closed around her and tugged in slow, sure motions. Derian gritted her teeth, incredibly close but willing herself to hold on. Somehow Emily knew just how fast and how far to take her, until every muscle was poised to explode, and then she’d let her down just enough to keep her on the brink. Once, twice, three times she brought her within a heartbeat.