A Question of Honor – Mona Karel
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She twisted to get a better look and was distracted by the sensation of chest hair against her over-sensitive nipple. Turning back, she reached around his wide shoulders with both arms, pressing as much of her chest against his as she could. His neck was a tempting target for her teeth, and she greedily tasted the film of perspiration along his collarbone.
Devin growled at her, a laughing, deep warning that only served to encourage her. Finally, in self-defense, he released her legs, dropping the bath sheet to the ground and letting her slide down his body. He cradled her, pressing against her heat while he stroked her back and buttocks, trying to touch as much of her at one time as he could.
“You feel better and better every time I touch you, babe.”
“I’ve missed this so much,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to hug around his neck. “It’s been so lonely by myself.” She cuddled against him, feeling the erotic contrast of sleek muscled skin, coarse hair, and rough denim against her bareness. His arousal was impossible to conceal, and she rubbed against him wantonly. Eyes closed, she sought out his nipple amongst the chest hair and touched it delicately with the tip of her tongue.
“I think I may have created a monster,” he groaned, trying in vain to hold her away from his desperate body. “Babe, don’t.”
“It’s about time you stopped giving me so many orders, Devin.” She reinforced her command with a delicate nip at his chest as her hands slid down to the waistband of his jeans.
Working carefully, she eased open the button and edged the zipper down. Without touching the part of him that leapt out to greet her she slid the jeans and briefs off his lean hips. When she reached the long scar that marred his thigh, she paused long enough to touch it gently then continued to push the jeans downward.
To finish the disrobing, she sank to her knees on the crumpled bath sheet, nuzzling against his groin while she pushed the denim off his hard legs. A touch on his ankle, and he stepped out of the confining material, shoving it away with the side of his foot.
Always a creature of control and restraint, Sydney had never felt so free in her actions. At first he tried to push her away, then long fingers threaded into her hair and he pressed against her, uttering a groan of pure bliss. She reveled in his musky scent, exploring his different textures with her tongue as she nuzzled from springy hair up hot smoothness to the rounded tip. Daring greatly, she opened her mouth to take him in, sliding her hands around his hips to clench his hard buttocks.
Looking down at the sprite kneeling in front of him, Devin stood stock still as the most excruciating bliss imaginable flooded his body. Sydney’s eyes were closed, but the expression on her face was one of total involve-ment. The faint light outlined her sleek body in silver, casting the secret parts of her in deep shadow. Realizing how close he was to total loss of control, he leaned over, sliding his hands out of her hair and down her neck.
When she protested his interruption, taking a firmer hold of his hips, what little mastery he had over himself was gone. His hands slid quickly down her front, briefly cupping her breasts before settling at her waist. Their relative strengths became obvious when she was easily lifted, her hold on him broken as though she were a delicate child.
Devin raised her above his head, bringing her sweet breasts on the level with his mouth where he feasted greedily on her swollen nipples. Then one arm slid around her thighs, one at her shoulders, and he pulled her against him. Her legs parted, wrapping around his waist as she yearned toward him and finally, at last, he buried his aching flesh in the damp warmth waiting for him.
With a last conscious thought before his legs collapsed under both of them, he stepped into the hot pond. Taking one unsteady step, he sank onto the ledge that jutted out at the end.
“Oh.” Sydney uttered a brief exclamation of surprise when the warm water surrounded the two of them, then her thighs tightened and she flung back her head, face up to the stars. It was a moment of ecstasy, when life pulsed between them and the rest of the world, for now, ceased to exist.
Under Contract – Jeffe Kennedy
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Without breaking the kiss, he slid his hands to bracket her narrow waist and helped her to her feet. She swayed in his arms—no surprise, as long as he’d kept her kneeling like that—and he steadied her, then walked her backward toward the rug immediately in front of the fire.
He indulged in running his hands over her, tracing her rounded curves, her skin velvety to touch here, slick and sticky there, so available to him with her hands bound like that. She panted into his mouth, her kisses growing more frantic, pressing her nipples against him, their soreness clearly forgotten in the pitch of her desire. All for him. Heady stuff.
“Lie down,” he muttered, urging her with his hands, forgetting in his own extremity to make her obey, just needing her to do so. She went more than willingly, stretching out on her back on the dark fur rug, her skin gleaming as golden as some exotic animal.
One he’d captured and temporarily confined, but wild still, proud and untamed in the dark demand of her eyes. With hunger, she watched him strip off his clothes, rocking her hips against the golden chain that gleamed so enticingly in the folds of her swollen sex.
Falling on her, he pushed her knees wide and back, fastening his mouth on her distended clit without giving her warning. She cried out, a wordless sound of joy and agony, so on edge she came immediately, her fluids flowing salty into his mouth.
Perfect that she’d gotten there already, without time to overthink it. Easier to keep her there now. Without relenting, he kept up the pressure, driving her up again, holding her hips down as she thrashed against him. She screamed, much as she had when he’d strapped her, going rigid and then shattering into a series of convulsions. Darkly pleased, he thrust two fingers into her tight, hot channel, curling them up and sucking hard on her clit, not letting her come down from it or think too hard.
She pistoned herself on his fingers, crying his name. Not “Master,” but “Ryan”—something that grabbed at his heart with unexpected, even blinding pleasure. Him. He brought her to this. His cock was ready as before, swelling with his ego. Some men never figured this out, the ones who easily attracted a woman, but then missed the concept of pleasuring her enough to keep her. Money made up for poor looks, but pleasing a woman in bed captured her affection more surely than anything.
He pushed the chains aside to flank the outsides of her labia, making her struggle anew as they scraped over her sensitized tissues. Managing to roll on a condom, he positioned himself at her hungry entrance, bracing himself on his elbows over her, to find her mouth waiting for his. She arched her back, body begging for the penetration even as her lips pulled at his, pleading moans coming from deep in her throat.
He thrust into her, going momentarily blind with the searing sensation, both at the tight clasp of her body, like liquid fire, and her shuddering response. She wrenched her mouth away, gasping his name. And he answered, reverentially, “Celestina.”
Without calculation now, without much control at all, he stroked in and out of her, overcome by the slick velvet of her skin against his, her lush breasts crushed against his chest and the occasional bright grind of the chains she wore. His chains. All for him. She gave herself totally to him as no one ever had, never so profoundly, so utterly without reserve. He took it all, demanding more with every thrust.
Her body gathered in tension, moving urgently, and she sobbed with rising need. He held off as best he could, increasing his rhythm, stroking deep until she suddenly shattered, coming apart in a flurry, like a firelog collapsing in a shower of sparks. With her sweet cries filling his ears, he let go of all control and flung himself after, burying himself in her and releasing everything he had to her keeping.
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