“Is this not what you sought?” he asked. “If you had been a regular submissive here at Follet, I would have threatened you take every last inch on pain of punishment.”
If she could tilt her head, she would have met his stare, her eyes saying what her mouth, being stuffed with cock, could not. In response, she sucked him as hard as she could, lapping at him with her tongue. She might not be the most skilled submissive he had ever had, but she would demonstrate she could be the most ravenous. She wanted him to remember her, to remember this night and not feel as if he had been jilted, but recall it fondly.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured. He matched her vivacity and pumped her head up and down. She took as much of him as she could. It was not always elegant, but by the thrusting of his hips, she could tell that his arousal was growing by leaps and bounds—and very quickly. She gagged often but recovered each time. She came close to taking all of him and hoped he was not disappointed that she might not be as skilled as he had hoped.
He popped his member from her mouth. It glistened with her saliva. Before she could protest, he had scooped her up, carrying her to the bed. He lay her down and clamped his mouth over hears as he removed his waistcoat and kicked off his shoes. After his kisses had left her breathless, he pulled down his braces and swept off his shirt. She eyed the tonedshape of his nakedness. It was beautiful and as inspiring as any work of art. Ardor soared between her thighs.
He made quick work of his remaining garments before attending to hers. He untied her stays completely and fondled her breasts, playfully pinching her nipples. She yelped, for they were still sore. He pulled the shift and stays down her arms, kissing the exposed skin as he went along. She wanted to return to her earlier feast, to see if she might be able to coax him to spend into her mouth, but he clearly had other plans. As long as it involved no regrets, she would not object. In resolving to stay at Château Follet, she had resolved to have none, and would tolerate none in him.
His body hovering over hers, he planted soft kisses upon her upper thighs. She was consumed with desire all over again. She pulled at him, wanting to mate her mouth to his, wanting him to cover her body with his weight.
“Behave yourself,” he warned with a slap to her breast.
She pursed her lips in displeasure but obeyed. He parted her thighs and situated himself between her legs. His gaze was there, where wetness still prevailed. What did he intend, she wondered?
He fingered her slit, then caressed the little bud of flesh that was so easily excited. Before long, she was moaning and writhing. His fondling was delightful, but she wanted more. She wanted to be filled. His fingers inside of her might do but not as well as that other part of him. It was made to fit inside of her.
Withdrawing his finger, he replaced the digit with his mouth.
Her body jumped, and he put a hand upon her pelvis to hold her in place.
Merciful heavens.
He had his tongue there. And it was…it was beyond delicious. Her mind reeled to think—to know—that he tasted her most intimate parts. She supposed it differed little from the bawdiness of taking cock into her mouth, but she wondered how he must perceive the scent and the wetness down there. He seemed not to mind, for his tongue continued its exploration, and when it found a spot that elicited a sharp gasp from her, bore down harder upon its discovery. She clutched at the thin bedclothes beneath.
Merciful heavens.
Enchantment rippled from her groin. She glanced only briefly at him to see the dark locks of his head bobbing between her legs. Shutting her eyes, she allowed her head to fall back upon the bed and gave herself to the apogee his ministrations coaxed. She twisted the bedsheet in her fingers when the prospect of rapture grew too much for her to contain.
“May I spend, my lord?” she managed to ask through the haze of her delight. “May I?”
He slowed, and she took that as a denial.
She took a shaky breath and tightened her body to keep the summit at bay.
He shifted his caresses to give her a respite before taking her swollen bud into his mouth and sucking till her back arched off the bed.
“My lord! Alastair!”
He pinched the bud he had teased to glory.
“My lord, my lord,” she apologized.
His tongue found a new spot of weakness, and attacked it vigorously. Soon she was panting and clenching her body against the onslaught.
“Please, may I spend? Please.”
He murmured, but she could not determine if he had assented or not. She hoped it was the former, for she could not stop herself if he continued. She could not. In the face of so much pleasure engulfing her, she could not hold back the tide. It tore through her, shaking her legs and making her cry out. Every lick, every caress made her tremble.
When at last he stopped to allow her to bathe in the aftermath of her finish, he climbed atop her, and she felt his hardness at her entry. He hesitated for a moment, so she wrapped her arms about him and pulled him down to her.
“Thank you, my lord, thank you,” she whispered, then angled her hips at him.
He gave a low grunt and pushed himself in, filling her. In their present position, his shaft slid into her easily, as nature had intended. Her quim had been fashioned for his member, and she marveled at the thickness throbbing inside of her.
Her first time, the insertion of that part had caused intense pain, and there had been some discomfort when Alastair entered her earlier, but she had quickly adjusted, and that discomfort had melted into the greatest pleasure her body could know. Indeed, she sought the discomfort now and moved her hips to welcome more of him.
Understanding the wordless invitation, he buried himself to the hilt. She purred her satisfaction.
His thrusts were gradual and slow, but her arousal was quick and sure. The prior flame of desire had not yet been extinguished, and she would have gladly spent again. She met his movements, engaged with him as if it were a dance, a dance of undulations, of two becoming one.
Wanting to join more of herself to him, she pulled him down farther and raised her head so that she could kiss him. He seemed surprised at first but readily availed himself of her mouth. Her hunger intensified, she would have taken every part of his body into hers if she could. As if sensing this, he rolled his hips into her at a quicker pace. She ground herself at him in response.
Parting from her mouth, he propped himself up so that he could delve his shaft deeper into her. She grasped his arms and attempted to greet the faster thrusts with her own, but she could not keep up. That irresistible tension roiled once more. She writhed, attempting to stem it from boiling over, for she would have him spend before her. But she had not even time to ask his permission before rapture overtook her. It shattered her body, drowning her in heated bliss.