So damn gorgeous.
Her toes curled and her muscles became tight as her orgasm built.
He was not gentle with her nipples. He licked, sucked and bit the flesh, not caring if it left marks, driving her to where he wanted to take her. Where she wanted to go.
Then she arrived.
He did not let up as her hips surged and her climax made her gasp and release her sensitive clit. Digging her fingers tightly into his hair, she pulled his head off her breast and pushed it down her body.
He didn’t even hesitate. He settled between her bent legs and immediately put his mouth on her even before the last ripple disappeared.
She brushed her thumbs over the now overly-sensitive nubs of her nipples as he sucked and flicked his tongue between her legs and used his breath to both heat and cool her clit, which was still affected by the gel.
Once again, an intense wave rushed through her and she cried out his name. She cupped her breasts, kneading, and he sucked her gently once the second orgasm was done.
Her body went weak and loose as if she was a marionette whose strings were cut. She simply breathed as Marc pressed his forehead to the top of her mound, his breath also very ragged.
Until it wasn’t.
He sucked in a sharp breath and jerked as if someone had shocked him. “Uh... I know that’s not your tongue licking my balls right now.”
They both glanced at the end of the bed to see Trouble, their one-year-old female Mastiff, with her two big front paws on the bed and looking quite pleased with herself.
“What the fuck!” Marc shouted and scrambled away from her and off the bed. “Gross.”
Leah smothered her snort as she dropped her head back to the pillow. “Sooo, is now an appropriate time to remind you that besides baby number three, it was you who also wanted beast number two? That’s what you get.”
“Trouble, get out!” He pointed to the door. The Mastiff took her time lumbering in that direction, so he grabbed her collar and pulled her along faster. As soon as he pushed her out of the room, he slammed the door shut and turned. “Menace is old. Having Trouble will ease the pain when he... goes.”
“For you or the boys?”
“For all of us. I know they sleep in bed with you when I’m doing a late shift. I find dog hairs in the sheets. Not to mention slobber on my pillows.”
“You’ve got an active imagination, you know that? That doesn’t happen. That’s your slobber.”
“Now who’s lying? I’m going to check the tub since I’m up.” He disappeared into the bathroom and was back in a flash, his bobbing erection looking a bit painful. “We have time.”
“From the way you look, you won’t need much time.”
He grinned. “No, I won’t. And I want no complaints since you just came twice.”
She lifted both hands in surrender, the solid gold band on her left ring finger catching her attention briefly. “Fine. No complaints. For now.”
He climbed back on the bed, considering it and her for a few seconds. Then his grin widened. “How does my little sadist want me?”
“Flat on your back. In a starfish. I’m not tying you up but I want you to pretend you are. That means, unless I instruct you to move, don’t.”
She moved out of the way, and let him spread out as requested, not a complaint to be heard. He stretched his long arms and legs until his hands and feet were almost touching each corner of the king-sized bed. His erection was lying on his hip, a thick string of precum connecting the tip to the ridge of muscle there.
When she leaned over and quickly licked it away, he jerked. She lifted her head. “Don’t move.”
“That was involuntary.”
“Mmm hmm.”
She reached under the pillows and pulled out the chain first. His eyes focused on that and a flush rose up from his chest onto his throat, where she could see his pulse begin to pound.
Oh yes. It had been a long time since they’d used it and his reaction showed her that they needed to use it more often, just like the gel.
He said nothing, but his body went electric as she hooked the clamps to the small gold rings. The chain was long enough she could use them as reins.
She awkwardly straddled his waist, the head of his cock pressing against one of her ass cheeks, the slippery beads of fluid from the crown smearing against her skin.
This time when she reached under the pillow, she pulled out the feather. She twirled it within her fingers right in front of his face. His eyes went wide for only a split moment, then narrowed. But still, he said nothing.
He liked it rough. She liked it rough.
A feather was not rough. It was torture.
She brushed the feather over her closed lips, her chin, her neck, her chest and circled each nipple. After making sure her nipples were nice and peaked again, she continued over her rounded belly, past her pussy until she reached him.
His stomach lurched slightly when she lightly touched him.
“Don’t move,” she reminded firmly.
“Pull the chain.” He wasn’t asking...
“When I’m ready.”
“Leah...”
She touched the feather to his lips. “Hush.”
He hushed.
She started where she straddled him and slid the long, soft feather up over his six-pack—yes, he still had one at forty-one, just not as distinct as when she first met him—and she took her time, teasing his pierced and chained nipples lightly with the very tip.
“Leah,” he groaned, his muscles tightening. A sign he was struggling to obey her orders of not moving.
“Hmm?”
She didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one because he knew better than to complain. Complaining only extended the torture. The torture in this moment, being the soft touch of a feather.
She swept it down both sides of his face, along his nose, over his lips again, which were now parted as he panted slightly.
The precum was leaking
