Sweet Evangeline (Moon Magic Book 2) (8 page)

“One kiss, please.” She took it in both hands and tenderly kissed away the pearlescent drop of pre-cum that proclaimed his aroused state.

“Now!” He pulled her to her feet. “It’s my turn. You have on
way
too many clothes.” His fingers found the button of her jeans. “I want to love you in so many ways—laying down, standing up—I want to love you the way you dreamed of in
Rapture
.
I want your legs around my waist, I want to be buried so deep within you that you scream. When I saw your braid, I knew who you were. I knew you were mine. This braid will forever be an erotic trigger for me.” He pushed the jeans down her legs. “Look at those sexy pink panties, Lord, you’re hot!” Slipping his hands up her back, he groaned, “And no bra, baby—my cock just got bigger—and I was already fully aroused.” He reached around her with flattened palms and placed them over her nipples, rubbing them in a circular motion.

“Eric, my God!” Her hips pushed back against him and she relaxed her whole upper body onto his chest. She had no idea that her breasts would be so sensitive. She always felt they were too small. The woman he had been with at the benefit had been very well endowed. “I wish they were bigger for you.”

He spun her around and pulled the camisole over her head. Looking at her, he pulled her close and whispered, “They’re perfect. What are you talking about?” Falling to his knees, he began to play with her breasts. He took joy in them, molding them, kissing them, rubbing the nipples between his thumbs. “Bigger is not always better.” He pressed them together and let his tongue dance from one hardened point to the other. Evangeline was having a hard time being still. As he pleasured her breasts, she rubbed his neck, his back, his shoulders—anywhere she could reach.

“A neighbor told me if I wanted them to get bigger, I should rub warm honey into them.” At her words, he drew one whole nipple in his mouth and sucked hungrily.

“The honey worked, love.” Eric whispered huskily, as he moved to taste the other hardened point that begged for his attention.

“No, it didn’t,” she laughed, kissing the top of his head as he feasted at her breasts.

“They may not be bigger, but they sure are sweet.” His words touched her heart. This was the most precious man in the world. He left her plump, pink nipples and let his lips roam south. Slipping his tongue in her navel, he let a hand graze up her thigh and touched the hot, wet place between her legs.

“Eric, sweetheart—I want you so much I ache. I feel so empty, my vulva feels so…so hungry for you. Please, make love to me.”

He stopped dead still and looked up at her. She was so beautiful, her eyes black with passion, her breasts heaving with excitement and she was begging
him
to make love to her. Eric swept her up in his arms and laid her gently on the bed. He was beside her, over her—kissing her lips, kissing her breasts, kissing the wet spot on her panties that proved she was more than ready for him. Eric tugged the little scrap of lace down and readied himself to enter her.

She spread her legs wide and lifted her hips, imploring him to take possession of her. “Please, Eric. I need you, so.” Her pleas did not go unanswered. Positioning himself to enter her, he locked his eyes with her and gave her what she had been begging for. He threaded his fingers into hers and plunged all the way in with one mighty thrust. She jerked, her fingers biting into his. Eric froze. His fever lust had been so high and his momentum so strong that there was no way he could have stopped the penetration once it began. There had been resistance.

“Oh, baby, baby, baby…did I hurt you?” He showered her face with kisses. “Why didn’t you tell me?” This had been Evangeline’s first time.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing the side of his face. Her hips began to move. “Please. Don’t stop, Eric. You could never hurt me.” She urged him on. He buried his face in her neck. He couldn’t stop. It felt too good to stop. She was so tight and wet. It felt like his rod was encased in hot, whipped cream. Raising up and kneeling, he pulled her hips up into his lap, leaving his hands free to massage her breasts and her clitoris. “Does it feel good now, love?” He wanted to please her more than he could say.

She was moaning, now. “It’s so good, so good! Eric come down here, give me your lips.” He did as she asked. She kissed him, then urged him on. “Now, don’t hold back. I want it all.” She was giving him freedom to move, to thrust, to plunge to gyrate. And he did, he held himself up on his arms and pumped into her with deep, strong strokes that brought them both to ecstasy. “Eric!” she screamed, her head thrown back.

When he felt her contractions begin, he let himself go. Closing his eyes, he let himself feel their joining, the miracle of the secret place inside of her that was fashioned just for him. He had never felt like this. The fire rose, the muscles of his neck corded, he felt twenty feet tall! When release came it was blinding, pulsating; he groaned out her name. “Evangeline, oh Evangeline, sweet, sweet Evangeline.”

She cradled him as he quaked, his body shuddering in exquisite release. “I love how the weight of your body feels pressing me down into the mattress.” Kissing him on the side of the neck, she sighed. “I’m not alone anymore.”

When he could breathe normally, he rose and went to the bathroom. Upon his return, he brought a warm wash cloth. He turned on the bed side lamp and spread her legs, so he could tenderly wash her. The little bit of blood that stained her thighs—the evidence of her innocence—made his heart contract with emotion.

“Now, it’s my turn to take care of you. Are you sore, sweetheart?”

She was entranced watching him, her Angel. He was everything she had longed for, everything she could have ever expected. “No. I feel happy and satisfied and tingly and…” She held her arms out and he lay down, pulling her tight against his side. “I am so glad you’re here.” He turned off the lamp and held her until the morning light broke the eastern skies.

Evangeline woke first. She was wrapped in his arms, held close to his body. Never had she felt so alive. Lying naked, all night, in the arms of the man you love was the most sublime thing Evangeline had ever experienced. This was Angel. This was Eric. Now, the two were one in her mind and she was happier than she had ever expected to be. He was still asleep. She rose up a little and looked at him. Nothing else in her life was as important. If she did nothing else, but spend every second with him that he would allow, she could die happy.

Just watching him breathe caused her to ache with desire. She wanted to wake him and ask him to make love to her again. Could she do that? What would he think of her boldness? Tentatively, she reached out to touch him, then she drew quickly back. She didn’t know how to begin. Her nipples hardened and her pussy spasmed with anticipation—all at the thought of being possessed by Eric again.

She gave in to temptation. He was lying on his side, and she was facing him. Easing closer to him, she began kissing his shoulder and soothing her hand up and down his spine. Once, she even grazed the top of his bottom, her mouth went dry with longing, and she wanted more. She ran her hand over his shoulder, marveling at the silk over steel sensation. She kissed his throat, letting her tongue linger over his Adam’s apple. He didn’t move. He was sound asleep. Okay, so she would try another tactic. Her lips found one of his nipples—knowing how wonderful it felt to have her own nipples kissed—she began a sensual assault on the small, flat discs that so intrigued her.

“It’s not working,” she huffed under her breath. “He must really be tired.” Again, she eased up and tried again—kissing his shoulder, and licking his nipples. Nothing! “Man!” It wasn’t working. Now she was getting desperate. He had shifted in his sleep as she caressed him; and although he was still on his side, one of his legs lay between the two of hers. She moved even closer to him, so her nipples were grazing his chest. She let her kisses get even more heated, even nipping him gently. Finally, in a last ditch effort to either wake him or find gratification on her own—she lowered her body just enough to make contact between her sex and his thigh.

* * * *

Eric lay there for a moment, trying to decide if he was awake or dreaming. He bit his bottom lip, and confirmed that yes he was, in fact, awake. Ahhh, he was dying! He smiled with the realization that he was being seduced. Everything in him was ready to spring into action, open his eyes and ravish Evangeline Martel. But something in him made him wait; he wanted to know how far she would go. She was so innocent, yet so naturally erotic. He tried to lay still. But when she began to ride him gently, luxuriously rubbing her body on his, that was all he could take.

“Eric, my Angel, please wake up. I need you so.”

At those sweet words, he closed his arms around her, flipped himself over on his back and brought her along for the ride. “You minx, I wasn’t asleep. I just wanted to see what you would do.”

She bent and kissed his lips. “I feel shameless. But I want you so much, I don’t care. I can feel how big you are, can I have him inside me now, please?”

Eric stilled. He looked at this lovely woman, who was, once again, asking his permission to love him. He couldn’t remember ever having sex before last night. He couldn’t remember any other woman’s face. It was like he had been waiting for Evangeline since the day he was born. “Yes, sweetheart. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Lift up.” She did and he entered her. It took both of their breaths away. He held her hands until she found her rhythm. She caressed him, ground down, rode him, and rocked her pleasure against his pelvic bone—every thrust sending electric desire through his very soul.

His hands were not still. He caressed her face, her shoulders, he held and cherished her breasts, then he drove his own self crazy stroking her clit—watching her face as she reached her peak. Letting himself go, he held her steady as he bucked upward, exploding within her. Eric pulled her down to him, kissing her lips. “That was the best way to wake up I could ever imagine. Will you promise me more mornings like this?”

“As long as you want them.”

“That could be forever.”

“I’m counting on that.”

* * * *

She lay, content, on his big body, still connected in the most intimate way possible.

It was hard to think with him still deep inside of her. Even in a flaccid state, he was bringing her pleasure. She tried to be still, she really did. And outwardly—no one could tell that she was moving. But there was no way Eric could have missed it. She tightened around him, stroking, undulating, caressing. “Eric, I can’t be still. Do you want me to move?”

“God, yes.”

Her heart sank. She was being too aggressive. She began to pull off of him, ready to get up and let him rest.

“Where are you going?” He stopped her.

“You said you wanted me to move,” she whispered.

“Yes. Move. I want more of those incredible little moves you were making that are causing me to swell. Can’t you feel it?” He rose from the bed, holding her in his arms. If there had been a mirror, Evangeline would have seen her artwork come to life.

He stood—legs slightly apart, supporting her bottom, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck. He made her fantasy come true. The bronze came to life. She buried her head in his neck and screamed his name in
Rapture
.

Later, he sat on the bed, holding on to her for dear life. He didn’t plan to ever let her go. “Can I spend the day with you?”

“Please.”

Their breathing finally slowed, and when it did—they both heard it. Piano music began to waft through the air. It wasn’t coming from any particular direction, it was everywhere—soft, seductive, haunting. “Where is that coming from?” Eric asked.

“I thought I had a ghost, but now I’m not so sure.” Evangeline smiled, kissing him on the nose.

“I don’t know if I believe in ghosts.”

Evangeline swallowed, took a deep breath and asked, “Well, how do you feel about magick?”

Eric laughed. “Oh, now magic is a different story. I definitely believe in magic.” He picked her up and carried her to the bathroom and sat her on the vanity. They were both still gloriously naked.

“Baby, I know you’re happy and the magic you’re referring to is real—it’s the magic between a man and a woman. And as much as I believe in that kind of magic, it isn’t what I’m talking about.” Her face grew serious. “Eric love, I need you to really listen to me. I need to tell you the truth.” He stopped, dead still. Please don’t let this be over, he prayed. He couldn’t take it, he just couldn’t take it.

That thought she heard. “It’s not over, Eric. It will never be over, not if I have any say about it.”

“You can hear my thoughts?” Eric was amazed.

She continued with her explanation. “Sometimes, I can read your thoughts…if I’m concentrating. I’m the least psychic one in my family, but we’re all unusual. We have powers.” She closed her eyes and lowered her head. This was going to be hard. “I have power.”

“You most certainly do.” He went to the shower and turned it on. “You have the power to turn me inside out. You have the power to bring me to my knees with desire for you.” He walked back to her and tenderly began taking her braid down. “I want to see your hair; loose, long, see your nipples peeking through the strands.” She watched him, unbelievably, he was getting hard again. She reached out and caressed his penis. He closed his eyes in pleasure. “See, how much power you have.”