Read Online The Goddess by Robyn Grady - Free Book Online

sides, and her head fell back as her fingers alternatively
     clenched and raked through his hair. By the time his lips slid down over her ribs,
     and further, she felt like she was boneless.
    He dragged her shorts down past her thighs and she felt a line of moist kisses dipping
     below her navel. The denim dropped to her ankles, he caught the sides of her underwear,
     and he eased them down, too. Then he cupped her behind and the warm moist oval of
     his mouth dived lower still to the apex at her thighs.
    His tongue swirled a tight wet circle before his head angled, and he oh-so-gently
     nipped one side. When he kissed her there, she released a lungful of air in a rush.
     By the time he found his feet again, she was trembling, in a fog. He swept her up
     and carried her to his room.
    He laid her on the cool sheets of an unmade bed then wrangled off her shoes. A heartbeat
     later, their limbs were intertwined again. While her palm sculpted the rock of one
     shoulder, his weight pushed her onto her back. Then they found each other’s eyes.
    Time seemed to slow. He brushed away hair that had fallen over her face. Leaning into
     his palm, she concentrated on the rhythm of his heartbeat vibrating against her skin.
    “I won’t ask if you’re all right,” he said.
    She laughed. “No, please don’t do that.”
    “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever catch up.”
    “I hate to think of you twiddling your thumbs,” she teased.
    “I’d have waited.” He nibbled an ear lobe then murmured, “All day if I had to.”
    His sandpaper jaw grazed down her cheek and across her chin, and when he kissed her
     again in a deeply erotic way she felt some ingenuous part of her drift off and leave
     her for good. He dropped a run of scorching kisses between her breasts and she shimmied
     back into the sheet, beyond ready to set every one of her inhibitions free.
    His hot palm trailed along her leg. When his touch slid up the crease between her
     thighs, her pulse came faster, throbbed deeper. His mouth left her cleavage to cover
     her lips again. As his tongue played and swirled with hers, fingertips feathered between
     her folds and came up to wind and gently tug her curls. With his tongue probing and
     one hand kneading her nape, a finger dipped and hooked inside of her. Groaning in
     his mouth, she pressed down at the same time as he went deeper. It felt as if he tickled
     her before he slipped out to stroke over and between her folds. The contact was so
     light, so skilled… She had to grip the sheet to divert energy and help stem a whimper
     of longing.
    His finger entered her again, rubbing a certain volatile place that pulsed as it swelled
     and then smoldered. When her hips lifted and she wrenched at the sheet, he growled
     against her lips, a sound of deep satisfaction. A second finger joined the first.
     The next time he rubbed, the sensation shot flames to every nerve-ending in her body
     from her tingling scalp to her curled little toe.
    He repeated the move again and again. Friction built and, bit by bit, the burn speared
     closer to a more intense heat.
    When his fingers slid away, the tension spiraled down, and her muscles relaxed. Then
     he began stroking the bead above her opening, circling and gently prodding for long
     blissful moments before pressing back into her opening again and repeating the move.
    Every part of her was present and connected only to him. Even with her eyes closed,
     she sensed his gaze on her face, gauging her responses—particularly when he varied
     the speed or angle—and her head rocked back, or she released a gasp or sigh.
    When she wound her arms up over her head, he shifted to taste a leisurely line down
     her throat, across her breasts. His teeth took a nipple and lightly tugged. The glow
     at her core blazed brighter, muscles squeezed tighter, and her neck arched while her
     spine pressed down.
    He murmured something—an endearment that, translated, meant my love —and other things