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Authors: Natasha Blackthorne
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wanton.”
He worked her with a precise skill she’d never dreamed a man would possess. Where had he learned such things? The tension built in her and she was writhing and sobbing her need. He pinched the bud between his thumb and forefinger and waves of pleasure consumed her, sparks of pure fiery pleasure that burned strong yet swift.
She lay panting in the aftermath, wet flooding from her cunt like a river.
It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
“Damn you, damn you,” she panted.
“Do you want me to fuck you now?” He asked the question casually but she heard the hunger beneath.
And dear God. Yes. She wanted him to absolutely ravish her.
“Go put your hands to the wall if you want me to fuck you.”
Chapter Four
Heart thudding, Rosalind tore herself off his lap, stood and all but threw herself to the wall.
She understood what he wanted, what his pride demanded after days of her coldness. Half an hour ago, she wouldn’t have dreamt of giving in. Now she couldn’t wait. She hadn’t been able to move fast enough.
She waited, panting, trembling with excitement and need.
He slammed his body against hers, pressing her to the wall.
A thrill passed through her.
Her heart raced faster, pounding her chest harder.
God.
He shoved his knee between her legs, forcing them apart. His cock touched her aching, overheated flesh.
She arched backwards, pressing her arse against his pelvis, wailing with hunger.
He grasped her hips. He impaled her.
Swiftly.
Savagely.
With his knob pressing against her womb, he held still. His girth throbbed, straining at her inner walls.
He groaned. “God, Rose, you are tight as a glove on me. My own, my own sweet, hot cunt.”
He pulled himself almost all the way out. The empty, hollowness made her sob in desolation. He grabbed her hair, yanking gently. “You are, aren’t you?”
“What?” she panted.
“You are my own sweet, hot, tight cunt. Say it.”
“Oh God,” she gasped.
He tightened his grip on her hair. “Say it, or I swear I’ll withdraw myself and palm myself off.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t,” she wailed, writhing her hips against him.
“You don’t think I will?”
“No, no, you wouldn’t be so cruel!”
“You may watch me do it.”
A sound between a sob and a moan tore from her.
“Just say the words, Rose.” He pulled out and rubbed the head of his cock over her nub.
Her arousal rose to painful levels. She couldn’t deny him. “I am your cunt.”
“And so you are.” He thrust his loins forward with force.
“Ah!” The fullness was divine, the sense of relief sweet like nothing she’d ever known. Tears streamed down her face and she worked her pelvis frantically against his.
“Be still.” He gripped her hips, held her relentlessly. “This time I shall fuck you.”
He slammed his hips against hers time and time again. His balls slapped against her mound and the head of his cock jammed against the mouth of her womb.
Tormented, delighted, she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Copper taste flooded her mouth. Her inner walls clamped down on his thick hardness and spasms of piercing delight tore through her cunt. Knifed into her womb. Pleasure held her, consumed her.
Then dropped her back to earth.
She fell against the splintery wood wall, spent.
With a harsh growl, he withdrew.
Jets of wet warmth splattered her buttocks.
Relief hit her.
He had pulled out. He had respected her wishes. He wouldn’t force her into marriage even though she’d handed him the means. But he still refused to force the issue. Something tender and warm swelled in her heart.
When their breathing had slowed, he wrapped her into his embrace and carried her to the makeshift pallet. Sleep took her quickly. When she awoke, he was gone.
* * * *
Rosalind sat at the kitchen table, sipping at her tea. She hadn’t glanced at him once since he’d sat down. Last night he’d given in to his former sinful nature wholly. He had not changed.
He worked her with a precise skill she’d never dreamed a man would possess. Where had he learned such things? The tension built in her and she was writhing and sobbing her need. He pinched the bud between his thumb and forefinger and waves of pleasure consumed her, sparks of pure fiery pleasure that burned strong yet swift.
She lay panting in the aftermath, wet flooding from her cunt like a river.
It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
“Damn you, damn you,” she panted.
“Do you want me to fuck you now?” He asked the question casually but she heard the hunger beneath.
And dear God. Yes. She wanted him to absolutely ravish her.
“Go put your hands to the wall if you want me to fuck you.”
Chapter Four
Heart thudding, Rosalind tore herself off his lap, stood and all but threw herself to the wall.
She understood what he wanted, what his pride demanded after days of her coldness. Half an hour ago, she wouldn’t have dreamt of giving in. Now she couldn’t wait. She hadn’t been able to move fast enough.
She waited, panting, trembling with excitement and need.
He slammed his body against hers, pressing her to the wall.
A thrill passed through her.
Her heart raced faster, pounding her chest harder.
God.
He shoved his knee between her legs, forcing them apart. His cock touched her aching, overheated flesh.
She arched backwards, pressing her arse against his pelvis, wailing with hunger.
He grasped her hips. He impaled her.
Swiftly.
Savagely.
With his knob pressing against her womb, he held still. His girth throbbed, straining at her inner walls.
He groaned. “God, Rose, you are tight as a glove on me. My own, my own sweet, hot cunt.”
He pulled himself almost all the way out. The empty, hollowness made her sob in desolation. He grabbed her hair, yanking gently. “You are, aren’t you?”
“What?” she panted.
“You are my own sweet, hot, tight cunt. Say it.”
“Oh God,” she gasped.
He tightened his grip on her hair. “Say it, or I swear I’ll withdraw myself and palm myself off.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t,” she wailed, writhing her hips against him.
“You don’t think I will?”
“No, no, you wouldn’t be so cruel!”
“You may watch me do it.”
A sound between a sob and a moan tore from her.
“Just say the words, Rose.” He pulled out and rubbed the head of his cock over her nub.
Her arousal rose to painful levels. She couldn’t deny him. “I am your cunt.”
“And so you are.” He thrust his loins forward with force.
“Ah!” The fullness was divine, the sense of relief sweet like nothing she’d ever known. Tears streamed down her face and she worked her pelvis frantically against his.
“Be still.” He gripped her hips, held her relentlessly. “This time I shall fuck you.”
He slammed his hips against hers time and time again. His balls slapped against her mound and the head of his cock jammed against the mouth of her womb.
Tormented, delighted, she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Copper taste flooded her mouth. Her inner walls clamped down on his thick hardness and spasms of piercing delight tore through her cunt. Knifed into her womb. Pleasure held her, consumed her.
Then dropped her back to earth.
She fell against the splintery wood wall, spent.
With a harsh growl, he withdrew.
Jets of wet warmth splattered her buttocks.
Relief hit her.
He had pulled out. He had respected her wishes. He wouldn’t force her into marriage even though she’d handed him the means. But he still refused to force the issue. Something tender and warm swelled in her heart.
When their breathing had slowed, he wrapped her into his embrace and carried her to the makeshift pallet. Sleep took her quickly. When she awoke, he was gone.
* * * *
Rosalind sat at the kitchen table, sipping at her tea. She hadn’t glanced at him once since he’d sat down. Last night he’d given in to his former sinful nature wholly. He had not changed.
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