Page 9 of Hunted By the Headless Horseman
I seize her wrist. She does not get a moment to blink before I have her pinned against the nearest wall with one hand over her mouth and the other gripping her wrists to prevent her hands from lashing.
Do you feel that, my Belle?
I lower my hand to her chest where her heartbeat pounds, keenly aware of how close I am to the heaven of her tits. And how her breath escapes in staccato gasps. And…oh, curse me, I can feel her arousal as her heat grows between those lovely thighs. Yes, this will do.That is a form of fear. A healthy one. A thrillingone. It will suffice. Tell me, Belle, is this conducive to your strong and lovely heart?
“It’s certainly not conducive for my pussy.”
I grow harder at the term, one of few I’m acquainted with as it pertains to a woman’s lush, wet heat.
Perhaps I should confirm this,I lower my voice an octave.
“Oh, um…I-I’m sure that’s not necessary,” she stammers, betraying her lack of confidence. The whimper escaping her throat and her heaving chest betray more, confirming her desire.
I will be the judge of that.
With one hand coiled around her throat to anchor her, I grip the hem of the nightgown, bunch it up at her waist, and use my knee to kick her legs apart. A hard swallow is her only movement as I lower my gloved finger to her nether rose and dip my fingers into her petals. I dare not use my unclad hand yet, lest I run the risk of falling upon her and driving myself deep into her.
“Oh, God!” she moans, her hands touching my chest, putting up little effort to stop me.
As I suspected…I call her bluff with an inner smirk and lift the glove to show her arousal.Positively dripping, my Belle.I rub her juices between my fingers, then trace a solitary, slick finger along her lips. I cannot see, but I retain a dim sensory perception, including her feminine pheromones—something that grows the longer I am in her presence.
She cages another moan in her throat, but I hear it beyond her pressed lips. Her knees tremble. Before she may offer any protest, I cup her mound, sink two fingers into her, and touch her slippery bud with my thumb.
She tips her head back against the wall. “And here I thought the stripping, washing, and dressing was already pushing the boundaries of gentlemanly behavior!”
I slap her sex, reveling in how she lurches.
“Fuck!” she cries out as I capture her swollen pearl again.
I should take my crop to your little bottom for your uncouth tongue. This will suffice for now.I release her throat, lower to my knees, and stab another finger inside her, sliding to the knuckle. Her hands find my broad shoulders, clinging to me.
“It’s not so uncouth in today’s age, oh—holy Hecate!” She gasps as I pump my fingers in and out of her drenched chamber.
I would chastise you on your inciting the name of a pagan goddess?—
“Don’t,” she warns, her tone darkening, and while I am well acquainted with the wild ways of a woman, her one-word warning quite surpasses such superficial motivations.
—But I shall not, Belle. For it was a pagan soothsayer I sought for my revenge.
“Revenge for what?”
Enough talking. I would prefer to hear you screaming…or begging, I will leave the choice to you.
“Of course, I’d get the horniest headless man. Mmm,” she whimpers again as I work her distended clitoris back and forth.
You truly must share the meaning of such a term, my Belle.
Her palms settle against the base of my neck, and all my muscles bulge from her action. The last time a beautiful hand touched my throat was my wife…a lifetime ago.
“Jackson! I-I—” she shrieks, tightening her grip as I pump, stabbing my fingers deep and curving them to that hidden knot. With my years of expertise, I am quite skilled at how long to apply pressure to lengthen the process of urging her release. More than a skill, it is a pleasure, nay, an obsession to bring a woman to her screaming point.
“Horny…um, it means…you have a strong, chemical, and sexual attraction to someone.”
A craving for intimacy?I pause and stroke her folds, savoring the sound of her gasps and moans like a symphony. My length thickens to steel.
“Yes, your body craves it. Your more…um intimate parts respond to another’s. And sometimes, it messes with your mind and your otherwise normal proclivities.”
Now, that is a word I know well.
