Pulling away, he reached for her shoulders and lifted her up into a sitting position. “Hold on to your arms, Jessie.” He pulled her hands to opposite elbows, tucking her in.
Then he drew the shawl slowly across her back and began to wrap it around her. It was long, very long, probably doubling as a blanket if needed, but once he had folded it to the correct width, he was able to cocoon her tightly, containing her upper body in a warm, neat bundle.
“I can’t…” she said hesitantly.
“No, you can’t. You will not be able to move your upper half, sweetheart. So I can do whatever I wish to your lower half. Whatever pleases me…”
He laid her down again, blindfolded and tightly bound. From the waist down, her nude body gleamed in the low light of the candles, and the temptation to touch it, to bury himself inside her, was pounding at his brain.
He cupped her, his hand resting on her mound, his fingers squeezing the fleshy folds between her thighs. She was soaked with her own moisture, hot honey pouring freely onto his skin.
“Mmm,” he whispered. “I like this.”
He turned her over, smiling at her sudden intake of breath as he did so. Once again her glorious buttocks shone and this time he settled her, spreading her legs and positioning himself between them. It took very little movement for him to rest his cock against the dark split separating her bottom, and even less for him to start moving. A gentle rocking motion set him into the groove and his own heart threatened to explode as the need to come built as firmly as the flesh he was stroking with his own.
He deliberately slowed his pace, controlling himself every bit as much as he controlled her. The fierce need to take, to plunder, was repressed, even though he was sweating and starting to tremble. He would have loved to plunge inside her, spread those cheeks, find that rosy puckered hole, and take her like that. She would be so tight, he knew, but he did not want to hurt her. That would come in time, not at this moment.
His lust rose thickly, intertwined with every physical need that thrummed through his body. Could she have sensed it? The passion within him that so well matched the erotic desires within her? Something made her move, slide from side to side as he pushed, and then lift herself…not an easy thing to do when her arms were secured by the shawl.
He could not refuse her invitation—it was too close to his own needs. So he slid a hand beneath her and raised her to her knees.
And there, shining and swollen, was her womanhood, her sex, offered freely and ready for him to take. He was only human.
He put his hands on her hips, his cock between the lips of her pussy, and pushed inside.
She moaned, he bit back a gasp of pleasure, and then the dance began. Piers rocked himself slowly at first, relishing the bliss of her hot wet fire licking at his cock. Every tiny movement shimmered through him, and her tiny cries urged him on.
He thrust more forcefully now, on his knees behind her raised arse, unable to stop a slap or two, adding the sharp sound to the thickly luscious noise their bodies made as their flesh met, engaged and merged into one strange and sexual beast.
He could see her arms struggling to break free, but he held her thus, knowing he could not withstand the ecstasy for much longer.
“Jessie,” he groaned. “Come now. Come with me…”
“I need…” She howled as she parted her legs as far as she could, thrusting herself back to capture him as deeply as she could.
He freed one hand and reached beneath her, finding her folds and that one tiny spot. He rubbed it as he pounded into her fire, attacking her from both behind and now in front.
In no more than a few moments, she was lost.
With a muffled scream, her body exploded around his cock and her legs forced themselves against him as the spasms of her release shattered her.
He felt them, felt the vise grip of her inner muscles—and it was all over for him.
His groan filled the room as he let go and pumped himself into her, filling her, losing his ability to do anything but focus on the maelstrom of sensations racking him from his toes to his eyebrows.
At last, when he was drained, sated, with no more to give, he let himself fall free, administering a loving caress to the beautiful bottom of the bound and blindfold woman in front of him.
She still shivered a little, the aftereffects of her own release lingering as she slumped to the bed.
Gently he moved to her side and undid the cravat, then helped her free herself from the shawl. “Ah, my sweet Jessie,” he whispered.
“Piers,” she murmured. “Kiss me goodnight for I cannot stay awake.”
He leaned over and his lips touched hers. “Goodnight, my love.” Then, covering them both, and heedless of the consequences, he succumbed to his own exhaustion, and fell asleep beside her.
Thompkins’ shriek of surprise woke them both the next day.
