Giggling, she worked the fabric up past her hips. Her delightful wriggling made him harder than a steel pike. He ran a proprietary hand down her front and between her trembling thighs. His blood rushed to find her pussy slick with dew.
“Doyoualways wake up this way?” he asked huskily. “This wet and wanting?”
“Um…sometimes.” She squirmed.
Christ, this woman. Her honesty undid him every time.
He delved deeper, relishing her moans as he rubbed her needy little love-knot.
“If I wasn’t here,” he said into her ear, “what would you do about it?”
She stilled, and he could see the embarrassed blush spreading over her cheek. He didn’t let her withdraw, keeping his hand firmly on her cunny. With his free hand, he yanked his nightshirt out of the way. He ground his bare cock against her ass, and she whimpered.
“Would you touch yourself here?” He circled her pearl with his middle finger. “Have you ever made yourself spend, little minx?”
“Hawk…”
The pleading way she said his name lured a drop of pre-seed from his cock. His slow, slick thrusting against her rear crevice caused them both to pant.
“Yes or no,” he coaxed.
A heartbeat passed.
“Yes.”
At her shy admission, satisfaction raged through him.
“I’ve frigged myself thinking about you.” He suckled her earlobe, glorying in the way she worked her pussy against his fingers. In the desperate, wet friction they were creating together. “Yesterday morning, as a matter of fact, I lay in bed thinking of you on the other side of the door. I fucked my own hand, imagining that you were there with me. That you were begging me to eat your pussy in that delightfully wanton way of yours.”
She stiffened, coming with a loud cry that the servants could probably hear.
He didn’t give a damn. In his hot, blinding lust, he wanted the world to know how thoroughly his wife belonged to him. Hunger took over, and he sat up, jerking off his nightshirt and Fiona’s. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling her over him.
She smiled her siren’s smile, undoubtedly believing that she was about to ride him. The chit did love being on top. He loved it too, but he had a hankering for a different sort of treat this morning. He glimpsed her startled expression as he yanked her upward, positioning her cunny over his face.
“Hawk?” she breathed.
“Hold onto the headboard, sweetheart,” he growled. “Time for a new kind of ride.”
It was depraved. Dirty.Delightful.
Gripping the wood, Fiona moaned as she rode her husband’s mouth. A part of her wondered if she should do something this outrageous. The larger part of her melted into the experience, into the hot, swirling persuasion of Hawk’s tongue.
“Christ, you’re delicious.”
The fact that his deep voice was muffled byhermade her squirm with embarrassed arousal.
“Give me more of your sweet cream.”
She rocked against his ravening mouth. Even though she controlled the movements, he controlled her pleasure. His hot licking incinerated her inhibitions, and when she felt his tongue stab inside her, she whimpered, grinding against him. She felt starved for even that small, wicked penetration. Hawk freed her of care. Of anything but her desire to please and be pleased.
As if he knew what she needed, he slid two thick fingers into her aching sheath.
“Move this naughty pussy, Fiona,” he growled. “Fuck yourself on my fingers until you come.”
As if trained to his command, her hips moved, pushing back on his impaling touch. Desperate sounds crowded up her throat as he screwed his long digits into her, held her against his furnace-hot mouth. His lips latched onto her pearl, the suction pulling bliss from her core. Her release gushed from her in torrents that made her tremble and Hawk grunt with approval.
Hawk rolled her over, entering her in a swift thrust. His big cock pushed out whatever breath remained in her lungs, her spent nerves trying to adjust to more sensation. She didn’t know how much more pleasure she could take.
