Gods, I'd always been the aggressor, and now I had this man who could've crushed me with one hand bending down, tracing his tongue around my nipple, closing his lips over it and tugging, sending bright sparks of sensation winging through me.
My nerves were coming to life, like pins and needles of the soul, my body waking up from two years of hibernation.
My cock was hard, I realised. Hard, and aching, and pressing into his belly. I'd started rocking my hips, rubbing it against him, riding the ridge of his erection beneath me in turn.
He moved to the other nipple, kissing it, flicking it with his tongue, as delicately as if I'd been made of crystal. Soft. Tender. The way no one had ever touched me, because who bothered to be careful with someone like me? His arm wrapped around my back, and he shifted his hips, tipping me back against his arm so that it was all that held me up.
I let him take my weight. What the hell was I doing,
