“It’s a mystery.” Grabbing her hips, John spun her around and placed her palms on the gazebo railing. He nudged her feet wide with his boot then curled his body over her back. “I told you I’d win. When it comes to getting what I want, I won’t play for seconds.”
She was wedged between two hard places. The edge of the wood railing bit into her skin from the front and John’s rigid length pressed into her lower back. It was a perfect predicament to be in. Her heart beat a rough tattoo in her chest.
“Never let it be said that I can’t accept defeat without grace.” She arched her back, pressing more firmly against him.
He chuckled, the husky sound making her muscles go weak. “You have many fine traits, poppet, but being easy in your losses I fear is not one of them.” Trailing his fingers around her hip, he skimmed over her thatch of curls and found her clit.
Her body jerked as his thumb swept a slow circle around the nub. She should argue the point. She was certain she was a fine loser. She just didn’t have much experience at it. But his hand was doing unspeakable things to her body and the desire to debate the point melted into a different type of longing.
“I’ve dreamed of this moment for a long time.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and tugged. “Sliding inside of you. Feeling all of your curves pressed up tight against me. Do you want that, too?”
“Yesss.”
“Are you wet and ready for me?” His touch was butterfly-soft as he drew his finger down her cleft and eased it inside her channel. He groaned. “Fuck me, you are ready.” He plunged in and out until she wanted to scream. It felt so good, he felt so good, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
He grabbed her hair with his other hand and pulled her head back. “Say it. Say you’re ready. Say you want me.”
Was that even in doubt? “I want you. Now. Immediately.” If that wasn’t clear enough, she reached back to grip his neck, to pull him as close as possible.
He pushed her hand back to the railing.
“You’re going to need to hold on, darling. This is going to be a wild ride.” His hands fumbled against her backside, and the fabric of his falls brushed against her. Gripping her hips, he tugged her back an inch until she felt the smooth head of him against her entrance.
Her toes curled in her slippers as she waited. One second. Two.
He drove into her, and she cried out. The pressure was intense, the feeling of fullness overwhelming. “Oh God. I can’t…It won’t…”
John cupped her breast with one hand as he bit her shoulder. He stroked her clit with his other until her body turned to soft clay. “You can. It will.” And so saying, he thrust hard, taking those last inches and the last rational thought from her mind.
***
Netta shuddered beneath him. Around him. And he’d never felt anything so good as this woman’s sex clutching tight about his cock.
He stood pressed against her arse, unmoving, reveling in the luxuriousness of the sensation. And to think, the game had only just begun.
He flexed his hips, withdrawing a couple of inches before his body demanded he press back home. His kept his thrusts shallow, leisurely, setting a pace just this side of frustrating.
Netta didn’t agree with his assessment. “Faster,” she demanded.
“No.” He slid his hands up her waist to cup her breasts. Jesus, her breasts could make a grown man weep. They overflowed his hands, their warm weight soft against his palms. He flicked his thumbs over her nipples and groaned when her core quavered.
She pushed back against him, using the rail as leverage. “Harder.”
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her still. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. “Quiet. Tonight I set the pace. Besides,” he said, and traced the curve of her neck with his tongue, “you should keep your voice down. You never know who might wander past.”
She glared at him over her shoulder. “As you said, this is a private garden.” She gave her body a delightful little shimmy. “Now no more excuses. You did promise me a climax. Get to work.”
John threw his head back and laughed, the sound surprising even himself. Buried ballocks deep in a woman wasn’t a time for humor. Except, with Netta, apparently it was.
He glanced at the closed side door. “As you wish.” He gripped her hips, slid back until just his crown remained inside her, then hammered deep.
She moaned, the sound loud in the deepening night.
He skimmed his hand down her spine and thrust again. “What would happen if someone did see us like this? You naked, bent before me, arse pressing back, desperate for my cock.” He watched as his Thomas eased from her cunny, glistening and dark in the low light. He palmed said arse and pressed his thumb between her cheeks, his touch whispering over her tight rosette.
“Oh God!”
“Shhh.” He rocked back into her, every nerve ending on his length lighting up like fireworks over Vauxhall Gardens. “We wouldn’t want anyone to hear.”
