Page 63 of A Whisper of Desire
Trembling with yearning, he kept her at the brink. She gripped the headboard with her fists, moaning at the depth of feelings he unleashed.
To her relief he took her mouth in a bruising kiss, the urgency addictive. Her hips rose, caressing his giant hardness, coating him in her juices. He groaned with pleasure at that, and she did it again, hoping to make him lose control. He responded with wild kisses, his hands running over her body as if he had never touched her before.
“Roll over, on your knees, now,” he commanded.
Shehadpromised him anything he wanted. An image of a position in her hidden book sprung to mind and excitement coursed through her trembling limbs.
Reaching round her waist, he pulled her back to meet him, pushing her legs farther apart. One hand pulled the pins from her hair, freeing it so it tumbled down over her bare shoulders. He bent over her back, wrapping a fist into her hair, pulling slightly. The bite of pain added to the anticipation as she felt his rampant erection prod her from behind.
“I’ve never taken a woman from behind. Never let myself indulge in anything other than me being on top.” He ran his member through her juices, making her press back, wanting him deep within her.
Soon he slid slowly inside her until he was buried to the hilt. She’d never felt so filled. He was buried deep, his thick cock pulsing, causing her inner muscles to contract round him.
He shuddered and then suddenly he stilled, remaining motionless, his groans of pleasure rolling from deep in his chest.
“God, you feel so good. I’m so deep. You’re so hot, so tight, I can’t move,” he murmured.
They stayed this way, panting in unison. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear to stay still one moment longer, he began to move. Slowly at first, but soon the grip on her hair tightened, his questing cock foraging more deeply into her body’s wet, welcoming heat.
Marisa’s body was on fire with desire. This was so different than the other times they’d made love. She could feel his wonder, his joy in the physical act. He was truly making love to her for the first time. She felt his every blissful pulsation, every quiver of muscles, as he plowed into her from behind, the grip on her hair as tight as the grip on her hip.
His excitement, his hard length moving so surely in and out of her, saw her desire quickly build, too. His hand moved over her hip round to the front to stroke her hardened nub. His pace quickened, his powerful thighs rubbing hers, his sacs making contact with each powerful thrust. Marisa let herself fly free, a cry of anguished delight wrenched from her lips. Each deep stroke was divine, as Maitland let his control vanish and gave himself completely over to pleasure. The bed was rocking and she had to brace herself on her arms to stay up on her knees.
His groans grew in volume and she looked over her shoulder at him. His eyes were closed, his neck taut, sweat dripping from his forehead as he pounded into her. She had never seen anything so erotic. She could feel his control hanging by a thread, as was her own. “Maitland,” she cried.
His eyes flew open; his storm-tossed stare tore through her and she orgasmed immediately, tightening around his steely thickness buried deep within her.
“Christ, Marisa. Yes…” He dropped his head back. “Oh, God, perfect…”
They climaxed together with loud, ragged cries filling the bedchamber. He collapsed onto her, her weakened knees gave out, and she fell facedown onto the bed, completely sated. Maitland followed her down, his heavy weight atop her cocooning her in warmth.
They lay together in a haze of contentment. On a groan, Maitland rolled off her, gathering her into his arms as he went. “That was indescribable.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. He stilled. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“Did it sound like I was hurting?”
He laughed. “I’m not sure, you did a lot of moaning.”
“If it had hurt I would have told you. I found only pleasure.” They lay silently, Maitland caressing her arm. “That position was wonderful. I want to try more,” she whispered.
“How do you know there are more?” God, she was beautiful, completely unselfconscious in her enjoyment of passion.
She gave a cheeky smile. “I ‘borrowed’ a book from the Top Hat. Do you want to see?”
Before he could reply, she leapt naked from his bed and raced to her bedchamber. She was a nymph, glorious and sensual and all his. Maitland praised God he’d been so lucky.
He watched her walk naked back toward him, leafing through a small leather-bound book. She had no idea the effect she was having on him. There was no artifice, no swinging of hips or come-to-me smiles; she didn’t need any of that to have him hardening again. Her natural beauty and acceptance of who she was had his heart filling with warmth.
She was magnificent.
“I knew I was right. That position is in the book.”
She handed him the book, open to a page.
“So I see.” He turned to the inside page to read the title before flicking through some of the sonnets and images. “You do know that some of these images are men with men.”
She clambered onto the bed beside him. She looked at the page he was showing her. “Yes, but a different orifice, I assume.”
He merely laughed.
