Page 47 of Kilty Plea
She reversed direction, kissing him down his neck again, biting him gently on his collarbone, then licking the spot to soothe it. His groan was barely audible, coming more from his chest than his throat, and when she peeked up, she saw his eyes were tightly shut, his head thrown back.
Oh, did he think this was torture? She’d show him.
Flora shifted her weight down his body until she straddled his thighs, then straightened. His member—jutting tall and proud—rested against the front of her mound, and she sat back so she could peer at it.
His fingertips dug into her hips, but he still wasn’t looking at her. Could hefeelher gaze? Feel how wet she was for him already?
His cock jumped, and she grinned. Mayhap he could.
After only a heartbeat’s hesitation, Flora wrapped her fingers around it, and this time he exhaled his groan.
Twas thick, aye, but she hadn’t expected otherwise, because Payton was a big man. What surprised her was the feel of it—hard, aye, but yet…somehow soft. The tip was darker than the rest, and as she dragged her palm over him, she felt a bead of moisture seep from it.
She smiled in delight.
“Christ, Flora,” he rasped. “Ye’re killing me.”
“No’ yet.”
Her experiences with sex had been violent, angry—not something she’d been allowed to explore. But this man? This man was lying there, allowing her to touch him as much as she wanted.
And she did.
She studied him, she felt him. She suspected she might be teasing him, but she was too delighted by this freedom to worry about that.
His cock felt…right.
Last night, he’d touched her, he’d put his mouth on her. And she wanted to do that, but not right now. Right now, her core was aching, weeping…all over his ballocks.
And she knew what she needed to do.
Still holding him, she shifted forward, lifting her weight onto her knees, grinning wickedly. She waited until he met her eyes, then she sat back again…
Only this time, she pressed his cock against her core, sliding her lips over him, and slicking him with her desire.
His eyes widened on a hiss, and her grin grew.
“Beautiful, Payton,” she whispered the reminder, and did it again. And again, until his hands rose to her hips, then brushed up her sides. Caressing her, cherishing her.
His breathing was as unsteady as hers.
Finally, deciding they’dbothbeen teased enough, Flora reached for his shoulder, steadying herself. Holding his gaze—and his cock—she sank back down atop it.
‘Twas thicker than she expected, but also…perfect.She took her time, allowing her body to adjust, while Payton’s fingers dug into the skin of her arse, his breathing shallow. He was watching her, aye, but making no move.
He was allowing her the freedom to do as she wanted.Needed.
After a moment, she felt…itchy. As if she needed to move. So, she did, rocking forward just slightly, allowing his skin to slide over hers in the most wonderous way. He made no reaction, but the skin around his mouth and eyes tightened, and she knew he was struggling to maintain control.
So, she did it again, this time rocking further before sitting back. Still no response. Again.
Each time, the sensation caused her to catch her breath, her focus on the pressure building between her legs, the pleasure mounting there.
And then, she sankallthe way down atop him, so that the head of his cock seemed to brush against the deepest depths of her, and she whimpered.
“Flora,” he rasped, pulling her toward him. “Jesu Christo.”
‘Twas like some spell had broken, and with that, she began tomove. She moved, and each time she rocked back against him, they both hissed out a breath, until the rocking—the thrusting, the plunging—was too fast, and she could barely do more than gasp occasionally.
