More orgasms than they can handle?I whisper excitedly through thediamrhán.
He laughs as he kneels behind me, shoves his face between my ass cheeks, and spears his tongue into my cunt from behind.
The invasion is so sudden, so forceful, that I scream into my gag. I’m clinging to the post, barely able to stay upright as he fucks me with his tongue while gently fingering my clit with the perfect amount of pressure. But of course, he knows that; pulls away at the last second every time. Winding me up, then releasing me. Winding me up, then releasing me. My thighs quiver violently, chasing the orgasms he’s denying me. I’d be on the floor if he wasn’t holding me up.
On the fourth go-round, he circles his finger around my asshole, and I immediately tense.
“Have you ever been taken here?” he asks quietly.
“No,” I mumble around the panties. The truth, of course. Though I can’t say I haven’t been curious. It’s an odd sensation, a bit uncomfortable, but the longer he applies such gentle pressure, the better it feels. Like the nerve endings there are somehow attached to my clitoris.
He presses a kiss to the underside of my ass, right where it meets the back of my thigh, then whispers against my skin, “Will you let me?”
The need underpinning his question cleaves my heart in two. I know the real question he’s asking. He wants a part of me that’s his and his alone. All that primal, territorial, male bullshit. The reason I’m not supposed to be doing this with him in the first place.
But when Lachlan asks, it sounds more like freedom than restriction. Because it’s my choice.
Heis my choice.
You can do whatever you want to me,I answer.
He shudders out a breath, then spends a few more minutes torturing me, sucking my clit and licking my flesh, all while circling, circling, circling my asshole. “Relax,” he whispers, stroking gently, but not pushing inside. “We’re not quite there yet. Need to warm you up properly first.”
I’m panting, whimpering, pushing my ass into his face. I’m about to start begging when he finally takes pity on me, flicking his tongue swiftly across my clit at the same time as he slips just the pad of his index finger into my ass.
The orgasm tears me apart, buckling my legs, but he catches me before I fall.
He sinks his teeth into my ass, the backs of my thighs, as I come down from what I can only imagine is the first of the multi-course feast he’s preparing to make of me this evening. He pulls the panties from my mouth, then kisses me and scoops me into his arms. I’m euphoric and jelly-limbed and I do nothing to help him, but I don’t think he wants me to.
He unbinds my wrists and lays me spread-eagled on the bed. He takes my hands and rebinds one to each bedpost.
What if I want to touch you?I am no longer gagged, but something about asking the question out loud feels too vulnerable.
His eyes flick to mine, then back to the knot he’s tying at my wrist. “Not tonight,” is all he says. It’s not cruel, but it’s not kind either. I try not to let it sting, try not to think back on how rarely he’s let me explore him all the times we’ve fucked.
I’m derailed only momentarily, and before I know it, he’s kissing and biting down my body again before stuffing a pillow under my ass and kneeling between my thighs. He’s staring at my sex, rubbing his thumb down through my lips.
He adjusts his trousers just enough to free his cock. It’s so hard it looks almost painful. How on earth does he think that’s going to fit in my ass?
But he has other plans for me first.
He shifts in closer, running his hot length through my wetness, coating himself. I roll my hips up to meet him, but he barks out a harsh “No”, then flattens a palm against my inner thigh, holding me still and open for him. His head breaches my entrance, where he hovers, letting me adjust. This part is always a bit painful, deliciously so, and I suck in a sharp breath through gritted teeth as I attempt to move onto him.
“Slowly now,” he grunts, feeding me inch by inch. “We’re going to take our time, and—Fuck.” He quivers, squeezes my thigh. He’s not even halfway in and I’m already stretched to my limit. His eyes meet mine, tender and terrified. “I don’t understand it, Charlotte. Every time with you feels like the first time. Even though I think about this, about you, all the fucking time. The feeling of your body wrapping around my cock? I have to force myself not to come. Every”—he pushes in a bit—“single”—a bit more—“fucking”—and more—“time.”
He stops. Takes a breath. Works himself deeper in increments, pushing and retreating. It’s a glorious sight, the muscles rippling down his arms as he presses my thighs open, the tiny beads of sweat slicking his abdomen, the way his trousers rest around his hips and only his cock is exposed as it sinks into me.
Once he’s all the way in, he pauses, though I want to come apart. Beg him to split me open, remake my bones, my sinew. Let me always be this for him. Not a woman. Not a wife. Not a queen.
Justhis.
“Hold onto your bonds.” He flicks his chin toward the laces around my wrists, then pulls out and slams back in so hard thatthe only thing keeping me from crashing into the headboard is my swift obedience.
He sets a punishing rhythm, caging my waist between his large hands as he plunges into me. I bite down on my lip so hard I taste blood. He bends down to lick it off my mouth.
He’s everywhere, all at once. Above me, around me, his hands roving over my breasts, my belly, mapping every curve and swell and dip. Saving the sensations of me for later. For when he cannot have this.
My second orgasm hits with the tip of his cock rubbing against that sensitive spot inside while his thumb circles my clit. My third when he bottoms out within me, biting the side of my breast at the same time. My fourth comes out of nowhere, just from the drag of his cock in my cunt and how sensitive and swollen he’s made me.
