Chapter 351: Wild Passion_Part 2
Rohan smiled. "You can’t lose me. I am somewhat indestructible if I want to be, my love. Isabelle has no idea she’s messed with the wrong person. I won’t stop until I know why she is disturbing you." He promised.
Belle began to part her lips to argue, but he tilted her face up to his and kissed her, closing the words in her throat.
Belle rose on tiptoes into the kiss, seeking him, needing him. Everything she had done settled onto her like a black miasma, how she was changing, and how she could hurt another person without feeling bad.
If she could wash away the fact that she had somehow hurt her husband, she would.
Belle kissed his lips, running her hands over his wet broad shoulders.
Only a man as strong as Rohan could have survived what the spirit had done.
Belle sought him with a hunger she didn’t understand. Her blood burned for him, but not for the pleasure he could give her. She wanted to give to him, to apologize. She needed to.
She tasted the hunger that grew in him as his kisses turned fierce.
Rohan stripped the silken scarf she wore as a shawl from around her neck. Lightning flashes illuminated the room as the light fabric slipped to the floor, brushing her arms as it went.
He undressed her then, a layer at a time, kissing what he bared as he peeled away her gown, her petticoats, her corset. His lips touched her neck, her shoulders, the inside of her wrists, her breasts, her abdomen, as he knelt to loosen the top of her underwear.
When Rohan slid her drawers from her, he leaned into her and kissed the join of her legs.
He got to his feet without continuing to explore her there, to her vague disappointment, and swept up the silk shawl on his way. Belle expected him to carry her to the bed, but instead, he brushed the silk up over her bare buttocks and back.
The cool fabric whispered against her skin, her flesh rising in goosebumps. Rohan drew the silk down her breasts, his gaze dropping to them as her nipples hardened into tight points.
He guided her backward to the bed, then up onto the mattress, settling her on her back. He continued to glide the silk across her skin, teasing her nipples, her belly, the twist of hair between her legs.
He brought the silk to his lips and kissed it, then laid it over her body while he shed his drenched clothes.
The shirt and boots came off quickly, and Belle watched with appreciation as he approached the bed wearing nothing, but she didn’t shy away as she admired him boldly.
Rohan came down to kiss her. Belle reached for him, but he evaded her, kissing her neck and throat, pinning her hands above her head to take his mouth down her body. He licked one nipple and drew it into his mouth, teasing with teeth and lips, tasting her milk and liking it. He did the same to the other, taking more time with it. He lingered to nibble, tugging the nipple long, before he released it to lick it once more.
Rohan moved down to kiss between her legs again, but as her hips rose, Belle wanting more, Rohan turned her over, to her surprise, and eased her onto her hands and knees.
Her fingers and toes sank into the silk and sheet on the bed. Then Rohan came behind her, spreading her knees, his hand opening her, stirring her need.
Belle felt his hardness against her entrance, strong and blunt, touching her lightly. She tensed, uncertain, as he had never made love to her in such a way, then dragged in a sharp breath when Rohan pushed into her.
She felt not pain but impossible pleasure. He opened her, his hardness thick and long, the sensation incredible. Belle uttered a cry, her climax already taking her, and Rohan had not even started to move yet.
He stilled inside her a moment, letting her get used to the fullness, the intense feeling of him in this position. Then he began to move in and out.
Coherent thought deserted her. Belle floated on feelings, of Rohan thrusting swiftly and fiercely, the pumping of his thighs against her buttocks, his fingers firm on her hips. Beneath her, both the roughness of the sheet and the fineness of the silk rubbed her knees.
Outside, the rain continued to pour in earnest, drowning out the moans that left her mouth. Thunder clapped, and she didn’t bite back any of her cries.
More sensations overcame her entire being, his sweat dripping onto her back, the intense heat of him against her legs, the sounds that came from his mouth. Not words, only sounds, a man in ecstasy.
Belle’s throat was raw, and she realized it was from her own cries and moans. She pushed herself back into him, wanting more of him, and she heard herself begging him for it. "Faster... please, please."
Rohan gave her exactly what she wanted and went faster and faster, until Belle thought she would die. He had to stop... She hoped he never stopped. She wished he would keep moving inside her and filling her with such intense pleasure.
Their bodies were slick with sweat by the time Rohan’s sounds became groans. The bed creaked beneath them, Rohan’s body hard against hers, and Belle breathed in long, shuddering gasps.
Nothing genteel or soft and slow about this lovemaking. This was raw, brutal passion like never before.
"Issa..." Rohan’s last thrust pressed inside her while her body squeezed back into his. He trailed off into beautiful, musical words she didn’t understand.
Then he shuddered once, hard.
Belle collapsed to the bed, her knees burning. Rohan withdrew from her and fell beside her, drawing her back against him with shaking hands.
He gathered her hair from her flushed face and kissed her cheek. She felt his pounding heart against her back, and his limbs, tangling with hers, were hot.
The cold wind from the gaps of the window brushed their bodies, the sounds of the downpour drifting to them.
"I love you..." Belle whispered, drowsy, the brief lovemaking leaving her exhausted and spent. Nothing had ever wound her up so intensely then released her so fast. She heard his response to her words, and she smiled, nestling more into his warm body, not knowing this sleep was something not only she would regret, but everyone else.