Free From the Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) by Christina Moore

closing off any more distance between us, and could feel his erection against my belly. Race turned us around so that the spray from the shower was now at his back instead of mine, pushing me back a few steps so that my back was against the wall. He took his mouth from mine and trailed kisses along my jaw line, stopping to nibble on my earlobe. I whimpered with pleasure, heat flashing through me again, and Race moved further down, his lips and tongue touching me along my throat and down to between my breasts.
    He then turned his head and took my left nipple into his mouth, sucking on it and lightly biting down on the hardened nub. I moaned as the sensation of his mouth on me further heated my already blazing skin. Deciding then that I couldn’t wait any longer, I pulled my hand from his right butt cheek and reached in between us, wrapping my hand around the length of him. He groaned as he switched to my right breast, and so I took my left hand and cupped it around his balls, massaging them gently as my right hand began a lazy stroke up and down his shaft. Race began to move his hips in tandem with my strokes, the hand that had held my bottom reaching up to my free breast, taking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he continued to lave the right with his tongue. I moaned again, and Race moved his hand once more, rubbing down along my ribcage, my abdomen, the soft flare of my hip.
    He stopped when his hand came around to the mound if pubic curls above my se x, lifting his head to look at me though heavy-lidded eyes. “Are you sure?” he rasped, and I answered by closing the distance between our mouths. Race then reached into the short bush under his hand, expertly finding the already swollen nub of my clitoris. He stroked it with his thumb and I cried out as a wave of ecstasy washed through me, turning the fire in my veins into an inferno. He stroked me again and again, and I thrust my hips forward to meet him, wanting more. Needing more. Race reached further still and stroked my labia with two fingers, and I opened my legs wider to encourage him. He gently pushed the two fingers inside of me, still stroking my clit as he began to move them in and out.
    I had never experienced sensations like I was feeling in that moment. Thankfully I hadn’t been a virgin when Martin and Peter had forced themselves on me, but the casual sex I’d experimented in with a shifter boy at my high school when I was seventeen had been nothing compared to the euphoria I was feeling under Race’s touch. Every nerve ending in my body was alive and flaring, my breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, and I could feel tension in my core building to what I knew would be a powerful orgasm.
    Race’s thrusting fingers became more insistent, his teasing of my extra-sensitive nub faster and faster. I could feel myself on the edge of climaxing, just about ready to fall. “Come for me, baby,” he rasped against my lips, and knowing it was close —oh, so close—I released his manhood to grip his shoulders. Race looked into my eyes and my nails dug into his skin as I felt the first tremors. I was light-headed and gasping for breath when the explosion hit me; I threw my head back, crying out as my insides convulsed, as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure crashed through me. His hand kept up its frenzied rhythm and I heard him say, “That’s it, darlin.’ Come for me.”
    I rode the waves of my orgasm one after the other, moaning loudly, and just when it seemed they were abating, Race grabbed my derriere in his hands and lifted me into the air, bringing me back down and impaling me on his rock-hard shaft in one swift motion. I leaned my shoulders into the wall behind me for support and wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles together as he began to thrust into me. He was, as I predicted, slow and gentle at first, but soon his tempo increased. I had never had multiple orgasms before, so I was surprised when I realized another