Sweeter words had never been spoken in the history of man.
Yes, cried everything within him.Take her. Fuck her. Pin her to the bed with your cock.
But he could not. She was a novice, and it was his turn to be the one to take care of her. To tend to her as he should have done when the fever had claimed her after he had wounded her, rather than relegating her to the questionable auspices of Annie.
“You will be sore, love,” he warned. “It is too soon. But there are other ways we can give each other pleasure.”
“Show me,” she whispered.
Another surge of need made his cock even harder. He rolled them as one until she was on her back once more beneath him. He settled between her thighs, his cock glancing her soaked folds. Her beauty struck him. She looked so innocent. So unencumbered by whatever secrets and demons she carried about on her small shoulders. Demons he would slay. Secrets he would learn. He kissed her, unable to resist, catching her succulent lower lip between his teeth.
He took control. In the bedchamber, as in every other aspect of his life, Leo needed authority. Dominance. He thrived on it. Craved it, and he wanted it from Bridget more than he wanted his next breath. “Touch your cunny.”
Her eyes widened, the inky lashes fluttering. He had shocked her, and for a moment, he feared she would not play his games. But then she surprised him with one word. “How?”
He took her fingers, guiding them to her clitoris. He moved with her, using her own hand as if it were his, showing her how he intended for her to pleasure herself. Quick strokes, side to side, pressure beneath the hood. Her breathing went ragged, her hips already started to jerk up from the bed. She was so responsive, so passionate, filled with fire. Perfect for him.
Leo swallowed, unable to wrest his gaze from the delicious sight of their fingers pleasuring her in unison. “Just like this, banshee. Pet your pretty pussy for me, won’t you? I want to watch.”
He released her, bringing his hand to his cock. He was on his knees between her spread legs, and he felt like a god. Her fingers stilled as he worked his shaft, root to tip. He looked away from the erotic sight of her core, drenched and on display for him, her fingers on her pearl, touching herself because he had asked it of her. The same sweet pink of her nipples infused her cheeks.
“Give yourself pleasure,” he urged. “Show me.”
Her gaze met his and clung. “It is wicked.”
“Be brazen for me.” He stroked his cock, ran his thumb over the head. Damn, he was close. So close. Just from watching her. From the way she—the wildest, fiercest woman he had ever known—submitted to him in the bedchamber. He had played games with other lovers, some who had been more depraved than even he had been. But he had never been so hopelessly, deliriously in the thrall of another woman. Never about to spend in his own palm from watching a woman touch her own cunny.
Her fingers moved. Once. Twice. Her hips undulated. Thrice. And he knew he had won this particular battle.
“Yes. That’s the way, love.” He pumped his raging hardness. Breath hissed from his lungs. “Pretend it is my fingers fucking you. Do whatever feels good. Hard and fast, soft and slow. Whatever you want.”
Her fingers moved in time with his hand, stroking, rhythmic, heightening their mutual pleasure. The chamber went quiet, the only sounds the wetness of her folds, the friction of his hand, their labored breaths, soft sounds of surrender.
“Leo,” she whispered. “Touch me.”
Damn.
Her plea was too much. He could not resist running a finger over her seam with his free hand as he continued to work himself into oblivion with the other.
“Spread your legs wider.” He wanted to see all of her, wanted to see what he had claimed. What was now his.
God help him, she did exactly as he asked, without hesitation. Her legs moved farther apart, and she was open, continuing to pleasure herself. She was so beautiful, so perfect. All that sleek flesh, those swollen folds, plump and ready. He could not resist. His hand had a will of its own. His finger sank deeper, finding the heart of her. The place he had so fully owned mere hours before. And then he was inside, the hot, slick walls of her gripping him, sucking him in, telling him this was where he belonged.
Too much.
Not enough.
Everything.
He was going to explode. He met her gaze. “Come for me, love. Come with me.”
Her lips parted, her fingers flying furiously over herself, her cunny constricting around his finger, the only invasion he dared allow himself this soon. “I’m falling in love with you, Leo.”
Whether it was her confession, or the fact he was so close, her pussy gripping his finger deliciously, the air perfumed with the sweet scent of her desire, he would never know. Her submission, lying open and bare and at his mercy. Her eyes wide on his. Whatever the cause, he lost control. Pleasure catapulted through him. His ballocks tightened. He grasped his cock with one last, hard stroke.
The dam burst. He lost control. Aiming his cock at her cunny, he surrendered. His climax tore through him violently, and he spent. Thick white spurts of his seed shot all over her glistening mound, on her fingers, on her pearl. She moved with jerky motions, her body tensing, twisting, and then the tremors rocked through her too.
A moan left her lips. Her channel tightened around his finger, sucking him deeper. He absorbed the spasms, milking his cock of the last drop of his climax. And then he collapsed to the bed alongside her, utterly sated, exhausted, completely in her thrall.
