Authors: Tiffany Clare
She licked her lips nervously, wanting so badly to ask him to do what he’d just been
doing but unsure how she should voice that desire. She felt her cheeks flush at the
very idea of speaking so bluntly. Before she could muster up the courage to speak,
he turned her over so she was on her stomach, with the hard tips of her nipples rubbing
across the wool blanket, giving her a new type of sensation that wasn’t at all unpleasant.
Nick shoved her chemise out of the way, his rough hand trailing up the back of her
legs and to the opening of her drawers at the inside of her thighs. Would he touch
her
there
. . . her eyes slipped closed, and she bit her lip hard in anticipation and in trepidation.
She shouldn’t want such a thing, but the more he touched her, the more she wanted
what was forbidden.
“How badly do you want me to touch you here?” His fingers grazed over her curls, teasing
her. Not giving her enough. “Tell me.”
“I want your touch.” The blanket on the bed muffled her voice, but she couldn’t find
the courage to ask for something she didn’t understand.
His hand slipped beneath the drawers the opposite way, cupping and squeezing her buttocks.
The motion caused her breath to catch in her throat and come out in soft pants when
she could no longer hold them back.
When his hand slid between the crack of her buttocks, she scooted away from his touch,
in complete shock that he would touch her there. When she tried to turn over, he placed
his hand over the middle of her lower back, keeping her still.
“Shhh . . . ” he said, as though that alone would calm her. “I won’t hurt you, Amelia,
but I will know every intimate detail of you.”
When she looked at him over her shoulder, she saw that he wore a resolute expression,
like a stamp of ownership. That very look should have had her running, but she only
turned and pressed her forehead into the mattress with a groan.
He didn’t touch her there again. Instead, he loosened her corset. “Remove it,” he
demanded when he was done with the strings at her back.
She pressed either side of the corset’s busk together to release the clasps at the
front. When they snapped, indicating it was apart, he pulled it away. She could feel
the lines where the bones had squeezed her skin, and she felt embarrassed that he
should see her like that. Even though she was still wearing her chemise and drawers,
she’d never been so underdressed in front of anyone.
There was a tie at the back and front of her drawers. Nick undid the back, letting
the material fall away to reveal her whole backside. His hand slid between her and
the bed until it was cupped over her stomach, and he pulled her onto her knees. With
her back to his stomach and her rear tucked against the firmness at his center, he
pulled the last tie holding her drawers at the front. The material fell from her waist
to pool at her knees.
Nick’s hand slid high enough to cup her breast, kneading and squeezing the tender
flesh. Her head fell back to his shoulder, and her body relaxed into his as he massaged
her in a way that should have made her feel ashamed but instead made her grind her
body tighter into the hardness that pressed between the cheeks of her buttocks. The
pins holding her hair dug into her scalp, so she pulled them free and tossed them
to the bed as her hair unfurled and fell around them.
Her breath erratic and her skin on fire and in need of being touched, she shivered
when Nick brushed her hair away from her shoulder and nipped the sensitive skin there.
“I plan to claim you tonight, Amelia.”
She nodded her head quickly, unable to give voice to that exact desire.
“Say you want that,” he ordered.
“Yes,” she half moaned, half whispered, in a voice she barely recognized.
She had never wanted anything as much as she wanted Nick.
Nick’s hand slid down between her breasts and over her belly button, pressing harder
as his finger skimmed the crisp hair of her mound. Her breath caught in her throat
as she waited for his next move. But he didn’t move his hand any lower, just hovered
there, out of reach, giving her time to accept not only his touch but what was about
to happen.
There would be no going back from this. With the realization that she preferred to
leap blindly forward, she ground her rear against Nick’s groin, her legs spreading
wider so she could feel him closer and tighter in the folds of her sex that ached
so deeply for his touch. The wetness slicked over his trousers, giving her the ability
to slide against the rigid hardness that lay out of reach of what she wanted.
Nick’s lips feathered kisses and licked a hot path along her neck. He distracted her
as his free hand slipped inside the front of her chemise and lifted one breast free
of the material. He squeezed her hard nipple between his fingers, pulling at the taut
tip, extending it further.
Amelia arched her back, thrusting her breast into his hand in unspoken need.
“Please,” she begged in a hoarse voice.
“Please what?” Nick’s breath was hot against her neck, eliciting a shiver from her.
She wanted him to blow a hot stream of air everywhere on her, including the area between
her thighs that continued to grow slicker with every stroke of his hand at her breast.
“Show me more,” she said.
As his hands released her, she was immediately aware of how underdressed she was in
comparison to him. Her thighs were flush to his; her very naked bottom was pressed
against his clothed form. He gathered the hemline of her chemise in his hands and
lifted it higher and higher until it was over her head. He tossed it aside.
Even though she had her back to his chest, she crossed her arms over her breasts.
He didn’t stop her, his hands were busy elsewhere, one curved over her side and hip,
the other tracing every bone from her neck down along her spine. Though she didn’t
remove her hands from covering herself, she did relax into his touch. His lips followed
the same path as his hand along her back, drawing a moan from deep in her chest the
lower he went.
When she looked at him over her shoulder, he was watching her. His gray eyes, this
close, seemed darker, stormier.
“Remove your drawers the rest of the way,” he said softly but firmly.
Oddly enough, she felt embarrassed by her uncertainty, enough that she didn’t want
to move off his lap and reveal more of herself.
“Take your drawers off, Amelia.” Though his voice was low and calm, there was unspoken
demand in his words that promised reprisal if she didn’t do exactly as he wanted.
Uncovering her breasts, she lifted herself from his lap. Her hands were unsteady as
she leaned forward on her hands and knees to pull off the material.
Nick’s hands caressed the cheeks of her buttocks. He murmured a sound of appreciation
when she was fully naked. When she tried to kneel in front of him again, the palm
of his hand pressed against her lower back to keep her where she was—on all fours.
“I like looking at you like this.” His hand trailed over her hip and down her thigh.
Unsure how she should respond, she said nothing.
The rustle of material behind her should have made her more nervous than she already
was; instead, she closed her eyes and imagined what Nick looked like beneath his finely
made suit.
His hand landed on her hip, the touch possessive as he pulled her against his body,
crushing her back to his warm, naked chest. One of his arms stretched along hers,
holding him steadily above her. His skin was darker than hers; the contrast of seeing
their arms naked and pressed together on the bed had her breath coming faster.
His other hand cupped her mound again; this time, his fingers delved deeper between
the folds of her sex. He would feel her wetness, and that made her blush. He practically
growled when he pulled his wet fingers away from her to push her legs wider apart.
She would have jumped from the sudden move, had he not being covering her like an
animal in rut.
His breath hot against her ear, he said, “Do you know what it means to be mine, Amelia?”
She had a few ideas, but her voice wouldn’t work. She shook her head, all the while
concentrating on his hand. His fingers were rubbing between the folds of her sex again,
his fingers as wet as she was now.
“This is mine. I own it. I am the only one who will see it, touch it, or taste it.”
The roughness of his beard rubbed along her neck, the friction erotic with the dirty
words coming from his mouth. “I am the only one who will ever fuck it.”
The coarse way he spoke made her press back into his groin with a ragged breath. She
never imaged she’d be in this position with a man, never imagined giving herself so
desperately. It was new; it was exhilarating; it was so far out of the realm of what
she expected that she anticipated and craved his next move.
He spread the folds of her sex more, slipping his fingers over the more sensitive
parts, causing her to jolt a little at the unfamiliar touch.
“Shhh,” he said, and the noise was calming. “I am going to make you climax all over
my hand.”
She had no idea what he meant, but his hand moved lightly over that private part of
her flesh—first back and forth and then in circles that grew tighter and tighter the
faster he moved. She felt wetness slick between her thighs and gather at her core
the longer he rotated his hand over that part of her. Her breath grew more irregular
as her heart raced in her chest and butterflies built low in her belly.
His fingers moved through the wetness, spreading it with each rotation. He thrust
his cloth-clad penis against her backside. And to her embarrassment, she moved against
his hand wanting more, wanting him to press harder than he was, wanting to never stop
what she was feeling.
Her breath came out in pants, short and needy to her own ears. Nick whispered hoarsely
in her ear that she needed to climax, that she was his.
There was no way to describe what she felt, and despite any reservations she had,
her body had a mind all its own. She unfurled around him. She surrendered to the desire
that clouded her better judgment.
Utterly and completely, she gave herself to this man.
She let go.
“Climax,” he demanded. “Climax for me so I can claim this pretty pussy of yours.”
It could have been his words or his motions, but she let go of the last of her reservations
as she thrust back against him with the same urgency as he ground his hardness into
her. Their bodies were slick with sweat, the hair on his chest abrading the sensitive
skin of her back as their bodies moved together, as she reached for a finale that
would end this mad delirium that had encapsulated them in pure ecstasy.
Noises she didn’t know she could make built in her throat and passed her lips with
each slam of their bodies, trying to fit tighter together. Then something spectacular
and different and so unexpected happened. It was as though her body had been building
toward this. The sensation of complete abandon slammed through her so hard that she
let out an alien sound—it was so different from any of the sounds she’d made that
it should have embarrassed and tempered her, but it did exactly the opposite.
She felt as though she were flying, her heart in her throat, her breath stalled in
her lungs, as a rush of fluid wet Nick’s hand so thoroughly that when he pulled it
away, he said, “Beautiful.” He smeared her juices over her nipple and areola as he
tweaked and pulled hard at the tip, extending the sensation that robbed her of all
ability to think.
“Nick?” she whispered. She wanted him to continue and to stop. It all confused her
so much that she let him lead her further down the path of sweet destruction.
His hand was unforgiving where it kneaded her breast, but it didn’t hurt; it felt
good. Her body still moved, mimicking what they’d done before she’d felt the explosion
of perfect sensation and release in her body.
Nick was loosening his trousers, his hands grazing against her as he shoved the material
out of the way. His penis was a heavy weight on one cheek of her buttocks, and it
caressed and bounced off her as he removed the last of his clothes.
That part of him was soft where it touched her, yet firm as she pushed back into him
in unspoken need. When she tried to turn around on her knees, he came over her body
as he had earlier, though this time there was no mistaking the feel of his cock between
her thighs, where she knelt in wait.
The folds of her sex brushed that solid length of him as she swayed back and forth
in his hold, never quite touching him as hard as she wanted. She felt his hand curl
around his cock between her thighs, and he tilted it in a way that let the tip brush
through the folds of her sex. Only it felt different and far more intimate.
When he pulled his hand away from his cock, she felt bereft and needier than she had
before. He brushed her hair over one of her shoulders and kissed her flushed skin.
“Press your shoulders to the bed.” His voice was hoarse in her ear.
She did immediately as he asked, hoping he’d reward her with that steely part of his
flesh she was so unfamiliar with but wanted to learn everything about. He was behind
her, his legs pushing out her knees so she was spread impossibly wider and open to
his view. Her hands grasped the counterpane beneath her as she closed her eyes.
To her everlasting surprise, he continued to tease her with the head of his penis,
circling it around her opening, slicking the entrance and building that sensation
of need in her again. She wanted to reach back and touch him and learn him, the way
he had with her body, but at the same time she didn’t want what she felt now to stop.
So she stayed where she was, pressed to the mattress, and absorbed every new teasing
touch of his body against hers. He pressed himself against her entrance, making her
pull forward and away from him when she felt the first sting of pain as he pressed
the tip of his manhood inside her.