Page 132 of Beyond the Cottage

His tongue breached her. She thrust, inviting him deeper. He retreated to the edges, toying, teasing.

“More,” she said. “I’m ready for all of it.”

He jerked her hips off the bed and draped her legs over his shoulders. With a vicious snarl, his open mouth consumed her.

No more tidy laps. His tongue fucked her deep, licking her from the inside out while she arched her back, all but grinding on his face. The wet sounds they made were downright vulgar.

“Oh fuck,” she groaned. “Fuck.”

He went after her clit again, mercilessly.

“Fuck, Ansel!Fuck!”

She launched up to sit and grabbed his hair. Knee bent, she braced a foot on the edge of the bed and thrust against his mouth. He shoved two fingers inside her. She shamelessly fucked herself on them like the depraved harlot he’d made of her.

“Coming!” she cried. “Oh fuck, I’m coming!”

She fell back, spine bowed, and rode tidal waves of pleasure. His buried fingers slowed, and her body sucked them deeper. He kept his tongue pressed to her clit as it pulsed.

Breath coming in gusts, she stared at the ceiling and put a palm to her sweaty forehead.

What the hell had hedoneto her? And how the hell had she been living without it?

His mouth released her, and he stood between her legs. His breath came nearly as harsh as hers. She couldn’t see his expression anymore, but she felt his stare.

Heat crept up her neck. In something of a delayed reaction, she became overwhelmed and averted her eyes.

He stepped closer, refusing to let her hide. “Eyes on me, Gret. This isn’t over.”

With a flippant huff, she sat. Draping herself in levity, she dragged a fingertip over the straining bulge in his trousers. “I suppose you want me to return the favor.”

His dick leaped against her finger. “If you insist.”

A lurid thrill passed through Gretta, followed by alarm. That was another act she’d never performed. If having him lick her pussy was overwhelmingly intimate, how would sucking his cock affect her?

Of course…doing it to himhadcrossed her mind once or twice. And she couldn’t deny a rampant curiosity. But she had no concept of technique. It couldn’t be as simple as wrapping her lips around him and literally sucking.

What if she wasterribleat it?

Gretta closed her legs. Before blazing any more new sexual trails, she needed to regain control of the situation. He’d had it long enough.

She stood, swatting her skirt in place.

He gripped her nape, villainous again. “I wasn’t finished with that.”

“I’m afraid it’s finished with you. For now. I’ve recalled an unfair detail from our session in the loot room.”

His thumb massaged her bottom lip, lewdly suggesting what else he’d like to put there. “Do tell.”

“I was naked, and you fucked me with your clothes on.” With a swish of her skirt, she crossed the room to turn on a lamp. Facing him again, she lifted her chin and held out her hand, palm up. “Your shirt, please.”

His eyes grew lively. Now that their positions had shifted, he seemed to contemplate his next move. With a long-suffering sigh, he crossed his arms in front and dragged his shirt off by the hem. He draped it over her palm. “My lady.”

She threw it aside, checking on his injured arm then eyeing up his bare chest. His heart visibly pumped, and the arm didn’t seem to bother him.

“Now the pants,” she said.

A few insolent seconds passed before he flipped open the top button. His arousal made the others trickier, but the pants soondropped. He wasn’t wearing drawers. His thick cock pointed at the ceiling bare.

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