Page 39 of Bedding his Innocent Mistress

She needed him in a way she doubted she’d ever forget.

Every movement was a mark of his possession. His supremacy over her; his domination. She couldn’t admit it to him, and she could barely admit it to herself. Except in moments like this, when his body filled hers and she knew she would do anything, say anything, give him anything to keep feeling this way.

His hands crept to the clamps and he jerked them off. The relief was almost a pain. Then, his fingers began to move over her nipples and she groaned as the sensations overwhelmed her.

Her orgasm was more intense than she knew possible. Fireworks exploded in her breasts; her entire body vibrated with the strength of it. She grabbed the bed post and held on for dear life as the feelings soared her into the heavens. And he didn’t stop moving, even as her world was cracking apart. She sobbed – a cry thick with pleasure.

He stilled.

“You are in pain?”

“No,” she screamed into the darkness of the bedroom. “Don’t stop.”

His expression was grim but he took her and he made her his in a way he’d been wanting to do since first they met. He owned her body, and they both knew it.

His own release was close, but he wasn’t finished yet. He fumbled for the keys and unclipped one of her wrists.

“On the bed.” He hadn’t meant to sound so gruff. The word was a dark command and yet she sent him a look of complete sex-struck adoration as she scrambled onto the bed in the negligee that had seemed like such a great damned idea at the time.

She was panting, hard, her cheeks pink and eyes glazed, but he didn’t give her a moment to recover. His wrists took hers and lifted them above her head, so that he could fasten her hands once more, this time behind the slatted bed head.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his eyes dragging over her body.

“I’m floating,” she said softly.

“And we’ve just begun.”

A tremor of excitement ran rampant in her gut. “Really?”

He thrust into her in answer and she cried out, her body quivering in response. He grabbed the negligee and dragged it up her body, slowly, tantalisingly, and at her breasts, he made sure to let the fabric strain across her pink, swollen nipples.

She arched her back, moaning loudly. Still he dragged it higher, until it had brushed her nose. Then, he stopped, leaving it thick and bunched across her eyes and arms, so that she was as blind as the night was dark.

“Feel this,” he commanded, and now he moved inside of her, watching as she sucked in a deep breath, her teeth sinking down on those beautiful lips, and he brought his mouth down onto her sensitised, throbbing nipples, rolling his tongue over them and lashing her with every single fibre of his being. She was shivering beneath him, her body unused to these sensations. Hell, that went both ways.

She was an angel in his bed. A heaven-sent delight. Perfect for him in every way.

No, just sexually, he reminded himself, dragging his hands down her body.

She whimpered, and he smiled, then paused.

He was close. So close. And he wanted to savour this.

He pulled out of her, his body heaving in complaint. He ignored it. When he finally came, it would be worth the wait.

He dragged his mouth from one breast to the other, and she begged him to take her again, rolling her body from side to side and pulling her arms hard as she tried to reach for him. He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth and then dragged his lips down the centre line of her stomach, between the valley of her neat breasts, the indent of her belly button, and lower still.

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She cried out, loud and sharp, when his tongue found her most sensitive cluster of nerves and his lips moved over it, sucking and licking until she was murmuring over and over. He felt her come, he tasted it, and he knew he could become addicted to doing that to her. The sense of power was ruling his head, his heart, and God knew, his cock.

He thrust a finger deep inside of her, and her muscles were still vibrating from the explosion.

“How do you feel?” He asked, though he could feel her heart rabbiting beneath him, her pulse rushing like a tornado.

“I’m dying,” she groaned. “I didn’t know it could be like this.”

Ego and pride swelled in his chest. Good. He wanted to give her what no one else had.

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