And with that, he leaned down for another carnal, open-mouthed kiss, his lips firm, his tongue a hot darting sword, and she could only whimper at the seductive onslaught. His free hand cupped her left breast, his thumb rubbing her hard nipple, and when he pinched it between his index and middle fingers, she writhed at the welcome sting.
Just as her lips were almost too tender, he pulled back. “I’m going to release your wrists now. But you must hold onto the headboard. If you let go, I’ll stop. Do you understand?”
Rachel squirmed on the bed. “Yes.”
“Beg pardon?” Arran replied as he increased the pressure on her nipple.
“Yes, sir!” she gasped excitedly, curling her fingers around the wooden headboard that stretched across the top of the bed and arching her back in shameless need.
For what seemed like hours, he tormented her tender nipples until they were ruby red. Firm pinches, lazy sucking, light flicks with just the tip of his tongue, slow scrapes of his teeth, and she moaned helplessly as each wicked act sent sizzling bolts of sensation directly between her legs. On another occasion, she might have been embarrassed at how wet she was, for her juices decorated her inner thighs and dripped onto the sheets together with perspiration from her overheated skin. But not this evening. Not when it felt like her body was being both mastered and worshipped.
The first time he parted her nether curls and touched his tongue to her swollen clitoris, a wild cry tore from her throat.
“The inn walls aren’t overly thick,” Arran growled. “Must I gag you to prevent a mob of saviors invading?”
“N-no, sir,” she said, not wanting him to stop and deprive her of the kind of pleasure she’d scarcely dreamed of, even when the thought of being gagged was most intriguing. Her first orgasm had been intense. But this promised so much more.
Finally, he bent his head again, his fingers holding her soaked pink folds open as his tongue fluttered and lapped at her clitoris. It was both heaven and hell, as he took her to the brink of climax again and again, only to move away and kiss her inner thighs, push his tongue inside her cunt, or most forbidden of all, lick her shockingly sensitive back entrance. All she could do was bury her face in the curve of her arm to muffle her guttural sounds of bliss as she reached each new and dizzying height.
“Something to say?”
Weakly, Rachel raised her head and stared at him. Even with only the light of the fire, his gray eyes glittered like stars, his lips damp with her fragrant wetness, while his strong hands easily held her in place. At this moment, he owned her body and soul, her world reduced to this bed and one excruciating need.
“Take me,” she begged. “Please, Arran.”
He made a raw, primitive sound, and rose to his knees. Taking his engorged manhood in hand, he fisted it, and pearly drops appeared at the head. “Is this what you want? My cock deep in your tight little cunt?”
Rachel moaned, but remembering his instruction, didn’t let go of the headboard. Instead, she lifted her hips, offering herself for plunder. “Yes. Please. Oh God, please.”
Leaning over her, Arran braced himself on one hand while he rubbed the head of his cock against her sensitive flesh, coating it in wetness and making her gasp. “I will go slow to start. But then I will fuck you rough and hard, before spilling on your belly. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. Hurry.”
As promised his initial penetration was measured and gentle, aided by her copious juices, and yet the uncomfortable feeling of being stretched and stuffed full made her groan. Arran paused, rocking against her, withdrawing and easing forward to help her get used to him, and eventually her inner muscles relaxed and allowed him a slick, exquisite glide.
“That’s it, darling,” he said hoarsely, bracing himself on his elbows and thrusting a little faster. “Lift your legs and wrap them around my waist.”
Darling.
Rachel obeyed even as her eyes stung at the unexpected endearment, a choked cry escaping when the change of angle allowed him to sink even deeper and rub against her clitoris. That chaotic, splendid tingle was building again, except this time far stronger, and as Arran took her harder and harder she ground against him, desperate for release.
“More,” she pleaded.
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Come all over my cock.”
As if flame had reached gunpowder, her world splintered and hurled her over the edge into writhing, bucking ecstasy. Fortunately, Arran’s hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her abandoned scream, and he thrust once, twice, three more times, before wrenching himself out of her and lashing her belly with spurts of hot seed. When he collapsed on top of her his body was a heavy weight, yet she welcomed it, disobediently letting go of the headboard to clasp him to her and stroke his hair.
Eventually, he moved and settled on his back, one brawny arm holding her against him so her head rested on his chest. Rachel tried to stay awake, wanting to savor the moment for as long as possible, but lulled by orgasmic exhaustion and the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart, she soon succumbed to sleep.
It was dark and cold when Arran woke, and he almost reached out for the bellpull to summon assistance. Except he wasn’t at his sprawling estate in Lincolnshire or even the mausoleum of a London townhouse. He was at a simple inn somewhere outside of the capital, naked in bed with a stranger, and still marveling at the most satisfying bed sport of his life.
He’d been insatiable for Rachel, fucking her twice more in the night after that intense first coupling. The faint sting of fingernail scratches on his shoulders were a reminder that she had been
