‘You’re not directing this show, babe,’ I growl against her flesh. She doesn’t answer, which is unfortunate as I begin to lash that sweet bundle of nerves with my tongue.
‘Oh, oh. My—’
‘Spread your legs.’ I take her arse into both hands, tilting her for better access as I would her head as I begin to kiss her. Small kisses at first, dotted along her flesh. Then deeper ones—fuller ones—until I’m making out with her pussy and her thighs are squeezing my head. Which is all fine until I need more.Until her whimpers make me ravenous, pushing me over the edge.My tongue still buried in her cunt, I grasp her calves, lifting her legs and planting her feet flat on the bed. Pushing her pale thighs wide, I go to town.
And we’re loud—so loud. The sounds of our pleasure rebounding through the room; my animal grunts and growls, my demands that she open herself. The sound of wet flesh—of tongue and pussy. Of wet sucking and fast finger fucking and the cries of her pleasure that drive me fucking wild.
‘There—yes! There it is!’
Wherever this mythical place is, it’s clear I’m getting there—getting her there. But I want in on it, too. Pushing the bench back, I stand and glance down at her. She looks like an angel who’s fallen from heaven, pillow soft sweetness debauched.
Well, if she has to fall, the best place for her to land is on my dick.
It’s my last sentient thought, notsensiblethought, before I slide on the condom and bury myself deep inside to feel her come.
Chapter 14
CHASTITY
‘Duchess, can I ask you something?’
‘Why won’t you go tosleep!’
It’s late, or early, depending on your perspective. The only light in the room is from the street lamp peeking through the plantation shutters at my window, the relative darkness barely concealing the fact that my bedroom is in disarray.London is never really dark. Not really.But the mess can wait until tomorrow because I’m comfortable. Sated. I may well have stocked up enough orgasms to get me through until the summer, courtesy of the man lying next to me. I’m on my front, naked but for the bedding tangled around my legs. Iachein all the right places, and I refuse to move. In fact, I don’t think I can. I’m exhausted and ignoring the fact that my clothes are strewn around the room—condom wrappers, too—and that a tray of food lies abandoned on the floor on the other side of the bed, and I’m not even sure I’ll get the fig juice stains out of my sheets. There a couple of sodden towels draped over my Kurt Olsen chair from our earlier shower. That would be our shower prompted by a messy food fight that devolved into a messy fuck. Flynn’s stomach had complained loudly from missing dinner, so after I reassured him that Max wouldn’t be around, he bounded naked downstairs to raid my fridge. His feet sounded on the stairs not ten minutes later before he reappeared in my bedroom—ta-da!—holding a laden tray including several slices of reheated pizza, a piece of Chevre, a small vine of red grapes, and a few figs. Plus a bottle of champagne but no glasses.
Essentially, we’d had a naked picnic in bed, while swilling champagne from the neck of a bottle like a couple of fancy louts. In a revisit to the theme of his arrival, Flynn insisted I give him a tip. Apparently, telling him not to eat yellow snow wasn’t what he was looking for, and neither was the fig I’d squashed to his lips when he said so.
Game on, apparently, and when he eventually strapped me to the bed, both of my wrists pressed in one of his hands above my head, he’d kissed me so sweetly—not just from the fig juice—and announced he’d givemethe tip instead.
And he did.
Just the tip.
Only the tip.
And nothing else.
Using his free hand, he’d held his cock, sliding it through my wetness, nudging my swollen clit. Nudging it. Petting it. Let’s call it what it is—torturing me with his frenulum and head. Making me watch him get himself off using my wetness and his fingertips.
The. Hottest. Thing.
And believe me, I know.
Leaving the spilt champagne and fruit pulp in my bed, we’d showered. And even that had led to sex. The man has more energy than my fully charged vibrator! I don’t think I’ll ever have a night like this again. He owned me body and soul.. . if only for a few hours. Owned me with his honeyed whispers, his threats, and his promises.All delivered tenfold.Pleasured me with his fingers and stubble, his cock and tongue.
Beside me, Flynntsks, an almost convincing reproving click of teeth and tongue. I lift my head and twist to peer at him, aware of what a mess I must look. A shower and no tending to my hair makes for tight spirals rather than soft curls.Think orphan Annie without the ginger.
‘What’s with the scowl?’ he asks, lips quirked in some semblance of a smile.
‘You’ve stopped tickling my back.’
Yep. Partway during the night, he’d discovered the one thing to make me completely submissive, the one thing apart from his cock, I mean, is light twirling fingers dancing along my back.
‘Because I wanted your attention.’
I try to gather the sheet from my legs to shield my modesty but give up.Too much effort.So I turn to face him. ‘There. What?’
‘Earlier, you said this thing. Actually, you kinda whimpered it. Cried. Called out.’ His eyes widen comically. ‘Come on, Chastity. You watch people fucking for work—you know I’m asking you why you say what you say when you come.’
