Page 38 of His Own Heaven

Lucy had never had so much fun or been so universally satisfied in her life.

Not that they’d spent all of their time in a bed.

It turned out Toby was a fan of fucking anywhere, anytime, anyhow.

Like standing in the middle of his enormous shower with her legs wrapped around his hips and his fingers digging into her arse as he thrust up into her like the devil was on his tail. Or a long, slow fuck on the couch, her legs straddling his as he spent a seemingly endless amount of time worshipping her breasts with his hands and teeth and tongue. Or when he bent her over the desk in his home office and pounded into her while he smacked her arse and pulled her hair and told her she was a naughty girl. Or a quickie on the breakfast table on top of plates of half-eaten pancakes and maple syrup.

Thankfully the shower sex had immediately followed the pancake sex, because Lucy had gotten syrup in places that syrup just shouldn’t go, no matter how much Toby protested otherwise as he’d attempted to lick her clean.

Now it was Sunday afternoon and they were enjoying his beautiful garden, lazing on a handmade quilt spread out in the shade of a grove of jacaranda trees. Toby had propped himself against the trunk, a pile of cushions protecting his naked body from the rough bark, and Lucy lay with her head in his lap, staring up at the little sprays of purple flowers that were beginning to poke out between the bright green leaves overhead.

“They’re flowering early because of the drought,” he murmured. “It’s a survival mechanism.” He sounded like he was about to doze off.

Lucy turned her head and saw him looking up at the canopy, little spots of sunlight that broke through the leaves decorating his handsome face. Reaching up, she drew her fingertip in a line from one dot to the next, chasing them as they danced across his cheeks and nose until he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers.

And that was all it took for his eyes to heat, the icy blue giving way to something stormier in nature. His lips lifted in a sly grin, and he didn’t sound sleepy anymore when he ordered, “Turn around.”

From under the cushions, he produced a length of silken rope, and Lucy’s heart sped up. She licked her lips. “Yes, Sir.”

Scrambling to her knees, she turned away and placed her hands behind her back, repressing a whimper of need when she felt the velvety softness of the rope as Toby wound it around her wrists and forearms and bound them firmly. When he was done, he instructed her to straddle his lap, which was easier said than done without the use of her hands. She laughed when she toppled to one side and nearly face-planted in his crotch.

Toby helped position her where he wanted her, then stroked his cock in his big fist, coaxing it from its semi-hard state to a fully erect monster again, readying himself to pleasure her. To pleasure them both.

Lucy had lost track of how many times they’d fucked since Friday night. All she knew was that every part of her body ached in the best way possible. Her pussy had been filled again and again, sometimes with Toby’s cock, sometimes his fingers or his tongue. Her arse ached every time she sat down, and the skin there had turned what she was sure would become a permanent shade of red. And he’d given her nipples more attention in one weekend than every other lover she’d ever been with had combined.

More than once it had been on the tip of her tongue to call him Master instead of Sir. She’d wanted to moan the word when he made love to her, wanted to scream it when he put her in chains and caressed her body with the tender lash of his whip, to whisper it in his ear when he’d held her afterwards and stroked his big callused hands over the welts on her flesh and made them sting for a second time.

Toby made her feel special. Cherished. Wanted. He made her feel everything she’d feared he would, everything she’d feared he would take away from her when the weekend came to a close, and calling him Master would only make it worse.

Because calling him Master would mean admitting she had feelings for him that went far beyond anything she’d felt before.

And that scared the shit out of her.

“Up, Lucy. Get on my dick.”

She did as commanded, pushing up on her knees so he could notch the head of his gorgeous cock against her cunt, then slowly lowering herself down to a chorus of gratified groans. He grabbed her hips in his vice-like grip and moved her body in time with his, ground her down on him like he had their first night together, mashed her clit against the hard plane of his pelvis and made her writhe in ecstasy.

“Toby,” she moaned. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“Please use me, Sir. Please make me come. Please…oh… God!”

It didn’t take long for Lucy to find her release. After an entire weekend of Toby’s gentle caresses, hard fucking, and even harder play sessions, her body was beyond primed. Her clit was so sensitive she was sure he’d just have to blow warm breath across the tiny nub of flesh and she’d go off like a rocket. And she couldn’t ever imagine growing tired of the way his big cock stretched her pussy so exquisitely, or how he filled her over and over with his come, or splashed it across her tits and arse.

Not for the first time she’d dared to imagine what would happen if her contraceptive failed and she fell pregnant. She’d never thought she’d have kids. Never figured she’d find anyone worth having kids with, but the way Toby had cared for her over the past two days had her convinced he’d make a good dad. He was kind, honest, and firm but fair. Everything her own parents weren’t.

“What are you smiling about so dreamily?” he said, thrusting up into her with the force of a battering ram.

Shit. She couldn’t tell him she’d been daydreaming about having his kid.Geez, talk about bunny-boiler territory. Toby might be more accepting than most men, but Lucy would bet her house the thought of having a baby with his weekend hook-up would still freak him the fuck out. No one wasthataccepting.

“I was thinking about the day we met,” she said instead. It wasn’t a lie exactly, just a more palatable topic of conversation.

“Oh?”

“I wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw you, and it took every ounce of my self-control not to beg you to take me.”

Toby groaned. It was a pained sound that matched the anguish in his eyes. “I wanted you too. I wanted to shove that damn pencil skirt up over your arse, bend you over my desk, and drive my cock so deep inside you you’d feel me for a week.”

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