Page 7 of Captain's Companion

Gwyn tried for professional. She wasn’t supposed to let them know how she felt. She nodded, giving her consent.

He slipped the shirt over her head. She watched his face, waited for the disappointment. “Lovely,” he said. “Gwyn, my Gwyn.”

His hands caressed her breasts. His mouth dipped down, licked, kissed around the lace and silk. His thumb rubbed and teased until she closed her eyes and let go. Long silent moments passed as he explored and discovered. When she sighed, hummed, or pressed against him, he repeated his motions again and again. He needed to be in her, connected to her.

His hands slipped around found the hook and released her breasts. He devoured them. Plump and full, he explored every millimeter of her smooth full breasts. His cock pressed against her belly, but he didn’t move to connect them. He worshiped her.

“Do you like this,” he said raising his head enough to watch her reaction as he rubbed her nipples again and again.

“Yes,” she said. Her fingers tangled in his thick brown hair. She pressed him to her breasts.

“I want to be inside you,” he murmured against them. “Gwyn, I need to be inside you.”

“Yes,” she agreed without any hesitation.

“Thank the stars,” he said. Kneeling, he kissed his way from her breasts over her belly, kissing and licking around her belly button. Slipping his hands under the silk, he slipped her panties down her legs, inhaled her arousal, and sensed her pleasure. “Mine.”

“Oh, yes,” she said as he cupped her core. Sliding his fingers inside, she jerked. His finger filled her. Her channel closed on it. His thumb rubbed her clit. She leaned back on the bed. “Ulrik,” she moaned his name.

He slipped a second finger in, sliced them in and out of her. Her hum reverberated through his body. He needed her to climax. He thrust a third finger in her. Her legs closed around his head. He tasted her as his fingers dove in. He used his teeth on her clit and her body writhed with her climax. Her scent invaded him, filled him with her essence.

Breathlessly, she tried to pull him up, to bring him into her. He grinned but shook his head. His teeth, tongue and fingers ravaged her, driving her hard towards another orgasm.

“Ulrik, I’m sup…. oooohhh,” she ended on a moan as he pressed hard on her clit.

“Yes, you’re supposed to do exactly what I want. I want you to have another orgasm,” Ulrik said. “I want you focusing on what I do to you not what you think you should be doing.”

“Oh,” she gripped the blanket on the bed. “Oh, don’t stop.”

He spread her folds apart, rubbed them, tugged on them all to drive her to another orgasm. When he pressed on her clit, she fell over the edge as her body rejoiced.

“Please,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m pleased with how responsive you are.” He bit her thigh, licked and sucked his way down to her knee and back. All the time, his fingers invaded her slippery channel. When her humming became nearly constant, he rubbed his chest against her heated core.

“Are you sure,” he asked poising the tip of his iron rod at the entrance to her channel. He wanted her ready and willing.

Her legs drew him in, having his cock slip into her overheated channel. “Yes,” she cried as the strongest climax yet ripped through her. Her channel vibrated and gripped his cock so hard, he thought he might climax. He knew it wouldn’t matter because he’d be ready immediately for more. He held tight into her, buried deep in her core until her breathing settled.

Her scent, her soft channel, her demands delighted him. Slowly he pushed his cock in and out, drawing out her pleasure with each stroke. He clung to his control, barely. He wanted to spill in her again and again, but he wanted her first time with him to be about pleasuring her.

“Ulrik,” she pulled him down to her breasts. “More. I need more.”

“Yes,” he said using his teeth on her nipple. She squeezed them together for him to taste and tease. His hips jammed into hers, he wanted to be gentle and draw out every caress, but his primal needs roared when she made demands.

“Harder,” she demanded. He followed her orders.

Her moans and hums encouraged him to follow his primal instincts. Claiming her with his body, claiming her as his mate. She was his. Only his. No one would touch her. No one would pleasure her as he did. He gripped her hips, thrust his cock deep into her. Her channel gripped him, she cried out his name again and again. He thrust in and exploded his semen deep into her. HIS.

Gwyn wasn’t sure how long they lay connected. None of her clients made her orgasm. None of them cared about her pleasure. They took their pleasure. She knew this was the case. Her mother, a companion, told her. In training they told her. She didn’t expect any orgasms.

“Gwyn,” he murmured her name against her neck. She tightened her legs around him, held him tight to her.

“Hmmm,” she whispered. This had to be a dream. Nothing felt this good unless it was a dream.

“Gwyn,” he said again. “All right?”

“Yes,” she said pressing her lips to his. She never initiated unless the client wanted her to. She wanted to do more, to feel more. “Whatever you want. Yes.”

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