“Is your pussy wet for me?”
“Yes.” For once, she wasn’t telling tales. “I need to touch you. I reach to untie the belt of your dressing gown and free your huge, hard?—”
“I lift you off my lap. I deposit you on the carpet before the hearth and push you onto your back. I grab your hands and secure them above your head.”
His authority sliced through the confessional, and it was electrifying. She realized that he’d been holding back. Now he was giving rein to his impulses and immersing himself in the fantasy with her.
“The carpet is silky-rough against my back as I gaze up at you,” she said, giddy with triumph. “You’ve captured me, and I’m helpless to your desires.”
“Your wrists are dainty within my grip,” he said. “You give me the gift of your surrender because you know that I will take care of you. That no matter how wild and wicked we are together, you are always safe in my keeping.”
She felt his powerful yet gentle grip holding her securely. She couldn’t escape…and didn’t want to. In her quest to uncover his desires, he was somehow baring hers.
“You want to belong to me, don’t you?”
His question had a hint of arrogance, and she inhaled, intoxicated by his intensity. By the strength of his focus on her. What would it be like to be claimed by such a man? Would he see beyond her disguises and her past, and desire her for who she was? Would he demand everything of her and give everything in return?
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Such a good girl.”
His approval felt like a stroke against the neediest part of her, and she trembled.
“I reward you by taking my time. I taste every inch of your skin. The pulse at your throat, the plump underside of your breast, the dip in your belly. Then I spread your legs and admire what is mine.”
She felt branded by his possession. His need to claim was a lightning rod to her need to belong.
“My pussy is drenched,” she confessed. “I need you so badly.”
“I can smell your arousal.” Satisfaction dripped from his voice like honey into dark, smoky tea. “When I part your little red nest, your juice coats my thumbs. You are ripe and ready to eat.”
“Do you eat me?” she asked breathily.
“I savor you.”
His cool correction made her squirm.
“I lick your slit slowly, up and down. You are a treat, soft and plump against my tongue.”
“I like what you’re doing. It feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.” Which was the truth, since she was a virgin...in body only. In knowledge, she rivaled the most seasoned of harlots. “But I want you to lick me higher.”
“Where?”
“On my pearl. Please.”
“Since you ask so nicely. Do you want me to suck on it, too?”
Her pussy pulsed under his hot, greedy mouth. “Oh, yes.”
“I think you need more. I think you crave something inside your empty little hole.”
She knew the words he wanted, the ones burning on her tongue.
“Please fuck me,” she breathed. “Take me with your big cock.”
“I like that you’re begging.” A smile entered his voice. “But you’re not ready for my cock just yet. I’m sliding two fingers into you, and even though you’re dripping, it’s a snug fit.”
She squeezed her thighs together, feeling his touch and the way it opened her to sensation.
