Joshua's Grace

Chapter 8 (1)

He lifted his head, and his fingers teased the taut nipple while his eyes watched her reaction. Her breath hitched. Her eyes fired. So responsive he thought just before he leaned in and took her lips again.

Grace felt her legs part as his hands stoked along her thigh. Up to her hip bone, brushing lightly along until his hand reached her knees, then back again to her hip. All the while he kept kissing her, deepening the kiss then lightly teasing. Feasting on her lips as if he had all the time in the world. Fingers delving and parting. Stroking and gently pinching.

Grace felt the wetness between her thighs and felt the tremors spread from that core.

As his mouth found hers again, his palm and fingers gently cupped her, stroked insistently, and then rubbed sensitively against her. They came away soaking. Grace was beyond thinking sensibly. Moaning, pulsing, squirming, reaching. Movement was raw and instinctive, pleasurable and responsive. It tested his control. She learnt from his lead, touching him as intimately as he was touching her. There was no restraint, no need to restrict her touch, no hesitation. It felt right, it felt perfect. He felt perfect.

A pit deep sensation, like the fluttering of millions of butterfly wings just below her navel, fanned out in shattering waves to reach her toes. It was washing through her in rapidly escalating pulses that she barely understood, yet reached for with growing urgency. This was what she had waited for, this man. Him. Just him. 

Fingers delved, stroked, cupped. Teeth nipped, grazed and nibbled. Lips soothed, sucked and pressed. Moans became pants, mewls became screams. The hammering of butterfly wings was replaced by a jolt of electricity as she bucked off the bed when one finger penetrated with carnal reverence, while his thumb pressed and flicked at a bundle of tiny nerves. Grace knew she screamed loudly, just before his mouth trapped the remainder of the sound. Joshua stilled and she drew breath. Then with his eyes on hers, watching every emotion that flitted through, his fingers continued to work their magic. She mirrored his own feelings, he could see it. Dilated pupils, passion glazed, splintering into scorching tenderness.

Slowly he inched down her body. Kissing both breasts, licking her breast bone, brushing against one nipple then the other, suckling gently, then nipping lightly, teasing his way down. He took his time. Grace was frantic. Desperate, reaching, trying to find that release that was one breath away.

"Josh." She mewled as her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails etching tiny crescent indents as she held on.

"Let me." He murmured against her dampness as her legs scissored. With his palms against her inner thighs he opened her and then lightly traced circles against the tender skin of her inner thigh. Grace squirmed, while her body prepared for his invasion. Moving closer to that scented heat, he buried his tongue deep, tasting, licking. Grace screamed and bucked but Josh held her legs apart and continued to feast.

Wave after wave coursed through her. Still he went on. Just as she came back down to earth, he slowly licked her hipbone and as slowly as he had descended he made his way up her body. His lips kissed the indent of her waist, the start of her rib cage, the spot where her heart pounded, the underside of her breasts. Slowly he returned to her lips.

The kiss was deep. Her response was wanton. With one arm framing her head, he used his other hand to slowly insert first one, then two fingers, and watched as her eyes dilated and he felt her pulse kick up again as she started on yet another rollercoaster ride. Grace begged, pleaded, for what she didn't really know. He thrust slowly, an inch or two, with both fingers. "You're tight." He whispered hoarsely as her body clamped hard against his fingers. "Grace, I can't wait any longer. I need to be in you. Deep in you." She tightened around his fingers for an instant before he withdrew his fingers.