Page 42 of Mad With Love

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“Darling, remember your job right now. You’re to lick and suck my staff until it bucks in your hand. It feels very good so far, so don’t stop. Here, let me make it more fun for you.”

He reached between her legs, finding her sensitive button and manipulating it with experienced skill. He was soon rewarded with a moan against his shaft. He continued to stroke her as she sucked him off, noting that her inexperienced fellatio grew more enthusiastic, if not more adept.

“Yes, that’s just right,” he encouraged. “Remember, no teeth.”

“Does it feel good?” she asked, coming up to take a breath. “The sensation?”

“You can’t imagine how incredible it feels.”

“As good as being inside me?”

“Yes. Well. Not quite. It’s different.” He tried to press a bit deeper in her throat, but it was only her first time and he didn’t want to alarm her or put her off for their next encounter. He spanked her some more instead, caressing her wiggling bottom between blows. Each of her throaty cries made his cock buck between her lips. By God, the temptation to bugger her was excruciating.

No, that would be too much for a honeymoon, wouldn’t it? They were barely married. But while she was in this courageous mood, he ought to do as much as he could.

“Let’s try another thing,” he said. “Your kisses feel absolutely delectable, but let’s give your mouth a rest.”

“All right.” She sat up and looked at him, lovely and rumpled. “Is it another secret thing?”

“Intensely secret. It shall require your garter strings.”

“Oh. Why?”

“It shall also require your trust.” He left the bed to fetch the needed ribbons. “Lie down on your stomach for me, darling.”

She obeyed, a little more slowly this time. “Are you going to spank me?”

If she understood how much her nervous, reluctant question fired his blood, she would guard her tone. “If I am going to spank you,” he said, returning to the bed, “that is for you to bear, isn’t it? But no. Just now that isn’t my primary goal. I told you, we’re doing secret things. New, different ways of lovemaking.”

He took one of her wrists and lifted it above her head to rest against the leftmost spindle of the inn’s narrow bed. He quickly fixed it there with the ribbon. “I’m going to tie you to the bed by your wrists. Many ladies find it exciting.”

“What will you do then?” she asked in a quavering voice, as he secured her other wrist to the rightmost spindle.

“I’m going to play with your bottom, sweet girl. Like a spanking, but different.”

He stood back and looked down at Rosalind, thrilled to find her tied to his bed, aroused beyond measure to see her testing the bonds. Her bottom bore a few pink marks from his careless spanks earlier. He palmed his cock and knelt beside her, tracing those marks, caressing her soft skin. She twitched beneath his hands, tensing her bottom cheeks.

“Do you know how much I love your arse?” he asked softly. “You drive me mad, sweeting.”

“Oh.” She tensed her cheeks again. “I don’t mean to.”

He laughed softly, not that it was a laughing matter, the manner in which he was about to molest his wife. He reached to the small bowl of olive oil the southern Italians provided with each meal and took a bit on his fingertips. “This is a very private sort of lovemaking,” he said. “For a husband to come inside his wife here. There is a lot of sensation to be had. I’ll show you.”

He delved between her curvaceous cheeks, tracing about her bottom hole. He only meant to tease her, not to breach her. He would not have trespassed further, not yet, if she hadn’t drawn her breath in and said “oh” with such angelic curiosity.

He stroked her back with one hand and with the other, inserted a fingertip into her bottom. She lay very still, her wrists pulling lightly at the garter strings. He’d given her a little room to move in them, but not much.

“How does that feel?” he asked, as the silence deepened.

“It feels…strange.”

“Does it hurt?”

She buried her head in the sheets a moment, then answered with a muffled, “No, sir.”

He added another finger. The oil made them slip in too easily, to the first knuckle. He moved them in and out of her hole. She arched a little, sighing. His cock was so hard, he could feel it throbbing in his brain.

“Playing is not like spanking,” she said. “It does feel a little uncomfortable, but not the same at all.”


Tags: Annabel Joseph Historical