Knight's Mistress
Page 54
To that inflexible point of no return.
She gasped, open-mouthed, then the punishing blow gave way to a flame-hot explosion of raw, soul-stirring rapture that left her shaking.
He grunted as his rigid cock met the ultimate resistance: an unspeakable thrill washed over him in hot waves, the scent of her filled his nostrils, her little whimpers as she writhed beneath him made him harder and longer and thicker.
His concentration narrowed to the finite pressure on his dick as he slowly withdrew. Plunging in deeply again, he shut his eyes against the wild delirium ravaging his senses. ‘Dammit, I should send you home,’ he muttered, disturbed by his ungovernable craving for this woman he barely knew.
‘You should,’ she whispered, arching her body up to meet his next savage thrust, feeling him move and swell inside her.
‘Jesus Christ.’ His voice was rough, breathless.
Correctly interpreting his expletive, she licked his throat. ‘Good. Because I’m not finished with—’ She gasped as the force of his next downstroke propelled her further up the bed and urgent, trembling, as desperate as he to feel the inexplicable, addictive pleasure, she tightened her vaginal muscles – to hold him, possess him, to preserve the gluttonous bliss. And for the first time, she truly understood the corrupting power of desire – the ache, the need, the wanting that never stopped, the breathless, fatal longing.
A shame Dominic Knight was the most emotionally unavailable man on the planet.
Driven by his own thin-skinned surliness, blaming her for amping him up, for inciting such manic compulsion, Dominic selfishly pursued his climax. He was a millisecond from orgasm when her explosive scream shattered his eardrums and he didn’t know whether to be annoyed that she came first or amused at his own naivety in thinking she couldn’t keep up. Since his libido was currently focused on riding the orgasmic wave, however, speculation gave way to fiery sensation and he quickly caught up, matched her rhythm, and spilled a white hot river of semen into her shuddering body.
‘Nice,’ he whispered in her ear afterwards.
She smiled up at him, her gaze still pleasure-hazed. ‘Anytime … get undressed.’
‘Is that an order?’ His voice was a low rasp, his breath warm on her cheek.
‘Definitely,’ she purred.
He glanced at the clock – a man once again in control. ‘An hour, then we have to wash up and dress before we face the battlefield of lunch.’
She grinned. ‘I expect you to save me.’
He smiled back. ‘I consider it my duty.’
‘I’ll do something for you then.’
‘I’m sure you will. I know you will.’
‘Ummm – that voice of authority. It turns me on.’
‘Everything turns you on.’
‘Everything about you.’
‘Better yet,’ he drawled. Post-orgasmic, he viewed Miss Hart’s impact on his life more charitably. She was unnecessary, even slightly high-maintenance when it came to soothing her quick temper. But she was straight-out irresistible and the state of the universe was less raw when she was around.
‘Undress now. I want to feel you.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He kissed her smiling mouth, whispered, ‘Two minutes,’ and slid off the bed.
She watched him like an infatuated lover watches the man she loves, although she knew better. But he was so fine, so beautiful, so glorious in every way, she allowed herself the fantasy. It was only six days. How could it hurt?
He kicked off his shoes, bent to strip off his socks, then straightened up and turned to blow her a kiss. ‘I’m a lucky man.’ His smile was affectionate. ‘You look perfect lying on my bed. I think I’ll have to keep you.’
‘Maybe I’ll let you.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ he said from under the sweater he was pulling over his head. He dropped his sweater to the floor and unbuckled his belt. ‘Tell me what you want first or I’ll figure out something.’ His slacks fell to the carpet; he stepped out of them and slid his boxers down his lean hips. ‘I’m taking orders, Miss Hart,’ he said with a grin, standing nude a foot from the bed.
‘You know more than I do. Surprise me.’ Lord he was impressive; male perfection – tall, broad-shouldered, lean, with steel hard muscles that were honed by some major exercise. He had to work out to have a six-pack and pecs like that. His cock had regular work-outs too, she suspected. Not that she was complaining, seeing how she was the current recipient of that strong, agile, indefatigable erection. The man had stamina. ‘I need your awesome dick. Pronto. Add that to my order.’
He was moving towards his bathroom. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay?’ he said over his shoulder.
‘If it makes me feel as good as an orgasm, I’m interested. Otherwise – not so much.’
‘Ah – a novice to be schooled.’ His voice echoed from the white marble bathroom, the sound of running water in the background.
‘You make it sound really salacious.’
‘It is. You’ll like it.’ He reappeared, carrying some towels and a wet washcloth.
A moment later the silk comforter was on the floor, the towels were at the foot of the bed and he was wiping away the residue of his semen from between her legs.
‘You make a very nice houseboy,’ she purred, his washing gentle and invasive and seriously turning her on.
He looked up and smiled. ‘I can be nicer. How’s that feel?’
She gasped, open-mouthed, then the punishing blow gave way to a flame-hot explosion of raw, soul-stirring rapture that left her shaking.
He grunted as his rigid cock met the ultimate resistance: an unspeakable thrill washed over him in hot waves, the scent of her filled his nostrils, her little whimpers as she writhed beneath him made him harder and longer and thicker.
His concentration narrowed to the finite pressure on his dick as he slowly withdrew. Plunging in deeply again, he shut his eyes against the wild delirium ravaging his senses. ‘Dammit, I should send you home,’ he muttered, disturbed by his ungovernable craving for this woman he barely knew.
‘You should,’ she whispered, arching her body up to meet his next savage thrust, feeling him move and swell inside her.
‘Jesus Christ.’ His voice was rough, breathless.
Correctly interpreting his expletive, she licked his throat. ‘Good. Because I’m not finished with—’ She gasped as the force of his next downstroke propelled her further up the bed and urgent, trembling, as desperate as he to feel the inexplicable, addictive pleasure, she tightened her vaginal muscles – to hold him, possess him, to preserve the gluttonous bliss. And for the first time, she truly understood the corrupting power of desire – the ache, the need, the wanting that never stopped, the breathless, fatal longing.
A shame Dominic Knight was the most emotionally unavailable man on the planet.
Driven by his own thin-skinned surliness, blaming her for amping him up, for inciting such manic compulsion, Dominic selfishly pursued his climax. He was a millisecond from orgasm when her explosive scream shattered his eardrums and he didn’t know whether to be annoyed that she came first or amused at his own naivety in thinking she couldn’t keep up. Since his libido was currently focused on riding the orgasmic wave, however, speculation gave way to fiery sensation and he quickly caught up, matched her rhythm, and spilled a white hot river of semen into her shuddering body.
‘Nice,’ he whispered in her ear afterwards.
She smiled up at him, her gaze still pleasure-hazed. ‘Anytime … get undressed.’
‘Is that an order?’ His voice was a low rasp, his breath warm on her cheek.
‘Definitely,’ she purred.
He glanced at the clock – a man once again in control. ‘An hour, then we have to wash up and dress before we face the battlefield of lunch.’
She grinned. ‘I expect you to save me.’
He smiled back. ‘I consider it my duty.’
‘I’ll do something for you then.’
‘I’m sure you will. I know you will.’
‘Ummm – that voice of authority. It turns me on.’
‘Everything turns you on.’
‘Everything about you.’
‘Better yet,’ he drawled. Post-orgasmic, he viewed Miss Hart’s impact on his life more charitably. She was unnecessary, even slightly high-maintenance when it came to soothing her quick temper. But she was straight-out irresistible and the state of the universe was less raw when she was around.
‘Undress now. I want to feel you.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He kissed her smiling mouth, whispered, ‘Two minutes,’ and slid off the bed.
She watched him like an infatuated lover watches the man she loves, although she knew better. But he was so fine, so beautiful, so glorious in every way, she allowed herself the fantasy. It was only six days. How could it hurt?
He kicked off his shoes, bent to strip off his socks, then straightened up and turned to blow her a kiss. ‘I’m a lucky man.’ His smile was affectionate. ‘You look perfect lying on my bed. I think I’ll have to keep you.’
‘Maybe I’ll let you.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ he said from under the sweater he was pulling over his head. He dropped his sweater to the floor and unbuckled his belt. ‘Tell me what you want first or I’ll figure out something.’ His slacks fell to the carpet; he stepped out of them and slid his boxers down his lean hips. ‘I’m taking orders, Miss Hart,’ he said with a grin, standing nude a foot from the bed.
‘You know more than I do. Surprise me.’ Lord he was impressive; male perfection – tall, broad-shouldered, lean, with steel hard muscles that were honed by some major exercise. He had to work out to have a six-pack and pecs like that. His cock had regular work-outs too, she suspected. Not that she was complaining, seeing how she was the current recipient of that strong, agile, indefatigable erection. The man had stamina. ‘I need your awesome dick. Pronto. Add that to my order.’
He was moving towards his bathroom. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay?’ he said over his shoulder.
‘If it makes me feel as good as an orgasm, I’m interested. Otherwise – not so much.’
‘Ah – a novice to be schooled.’ His voice echoed from the white marble bathroom, the sound of running water in the background.
‘You make it sound really salacious.’
‘It is. You’ll like it.’ He reappeared, carrying some towels and a wet washcloth.
A moment later the silk comforter was on the floor, the towels were at the foot of the bed and he was wiping away the residue of his semen from between her legs.
‘You make a very nice houseboy,’ she purred, his washing gentle and invasive and seriously turning her on.
He looked up and smiled. ‘I can be nicer. How’s that feel?’
