Authors: Rebecca Lyndon
Secret Mercy (3 page)
And so did she. Paige spread her legs wider, offering herself to him.
Alan stepped up, until his cock slid against the slick folds of her cunt. His smile grew. “That's right. Give me everything.”
The crowd started to shift too, their eyes becoming glassy as he pushed inside her. Her nipples puckered hard at the sight of her audience.
The last of her shame reared its head. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she tried retreating back into the safety of the darkness.
“No,” Alan said. He yanked her down from the sink. Her bare feet smacked against the tiles. Alan swung her around. He bent her over the cold ridge of the sink.
He gathered both of her hands in one of his, pulling her arms out brutally straight and hard behind her. With his other hand, he lifted her skirt and bared her ass. Paige closed her eyes as she felt goosebumps rise up in the wake of his touch as he caressed the curve. She was dying from the anticipation.
“Look up,” he said, his voice firm.
Paige shook her head. It was better in the dark, better where she could pretend this was some other fantasy that she was playing out in her mind. It wasn't her. It couldn't be her.
His hand fell hard on her ass. The sharp sound resonated off the walls. The sting penetrated her self-imposed seclusion.
“Look at these people. Look at yourself.”
Paige's eyes snapped open and she saw them in the scratched and cloudy mirror. She hardly recognized herself. Her hair was tangled around her shoulders. Her mascara was smeared, but her eyes were bright. Brighter than they had been in a long time, glazed yet full of want.
“Keep your eyes open,” he demanded.
He crashed into her, keeping a brutal pace that drove out all thought. Only sensation existed. The strain of her muscles. The force of his strength. The heat of their sex.
The pleasure was too intense, but the sting of her arms being held back at such an extreme angle, the arch of her back, kept her present.
The thrill of so many eyes on her was dizzying. With every beat her reaction become their reaction. She had never felt such power, such joy.
It was too much. The combination of desire and fantasy became overwhelming. She couldn’t control it any longer.
“Please. Alan. Please.” She cried out for the intangible.
Her legs lost strength beneath her. If he hadn't been holding her she would have crumpled to the floor. This wasn't some gentle rise and fall. She broke apart, shattered, as the most all-consuming pleasure she had ever felt overwhelmed her.
Alan threw back his head in triumph as Paige shuddered around his cock.
Her orgasm was stunning. The walls of her pussy constricted tighter around his shaft, pulsing.
In a single moment he remembered the excitement of life, the thrill that came from the vulnerability of mortality, and he knew what he wanted.
From the second that he felt Paige in his mind, he had known she was his One. Fate or Ashira had chosen her for him. Not that it mattered.
He hadn’t been bluffing when he threatened to walk away if she didn’t admit to her fantasies. It might have ripped him apart inside, but he would have done it. But she’d been brave enough to own up to her desires.
Her courage made him want to do the same. He was tired of the numbness that came with his power. He wanted to feel. Centuries had passed since he had taken something out of desire instead of obligation.
And what he wanted was to look into those eyes as he came.
He glanced up and saw Raine’s reflection in the mirror behind him. His old friend’s expression was tense. He alone knew what power this moment held. But if Raine disapproved, he kept it to himself.
Alan focused on Paige. He had to block out every one around them. None of them mattered. Only she did.
His balls constricted, but he held back. She was so tight, so wet, so earnest. She deserved this moment. He struggled to contain himself for just a few moments longer. Even after hundreds of years of unfulfilled desire, these last few seconds seemed like an eternity.
The moment her cunt relaxed, Alan wrenched her up and spun her around so she faced him. She was loose now, there was no fight left in her. He pushed her down to her knees. She was ready for him, but was he ready?
She knew what he wanted. Her mouth opened. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft. She milked him as she guided his shaft between her lips. Her inexperienced mouth couldn't take much of him, but she worked the rest of him with her hand. Her eyes closed again as she tasted the mixture of their sex on his cock.
She started timidly, coming down from the lust-filled haze that still clouded her mind, but soon the rumblings of the crowd spurred her on. Her hand worked him more urgently. She pulled at his cock, her tongue washing over it. Again and again. He was so close to the precipice.
“Open your eyes, Paige. Look at me,” he demanded. He would look into her eyes as he came, as she drew him back to the land of the living.
“Please,” she pleaded. “Please let me swallow your come.”
Her lips surrounded him and she began to suck in earnest.
Big brown eyes stared up at him. She had no idea what she was asking. No idea that she was the only person who could. There was no way that she could know what Fate had in store for both of them.
The group pressed closer around them. The room crackled with power.
His balls grew tight, and then he shuddered. Pleasure overwhelmed him. His knees buckled. He grasped her head and pulled her in tight, making sure that she couldn't get away. The release was blinding, overtaking his whole body.
He roared out. The sound echoed off the hard walls. Yes, this was it. A dozen lifetimes of waiting over.
He shot down her throat again and again. Paige struggled to swallow. Her eyes went wide with surprise at the force of his ejaculation.
He was as merciless with himself as he was with her, forcing himself to meet her eyes as his soul came rushing back to him. His body sizzled with life. Instead weakening, he felt his strength increase. Though the pleasure had been intense, he felt far from sated.
Paige gasped in a great rush of air as he pulled out of her mouth. A moment later, Alan pulled her up on shaky legs.
“You can go now,” he said to the people around them. Only Raine raised a brow at the command. He didn’t look like a man used to taking orders, but after giving Alan a look that she could tell held a world of meaning, he filtered out with the rest of them.
Paige met each one of their gazes as they walked past. She wasn’t the same person that she had been when she’d walked in here tonight. Everyone one of them had played a big part in that transformation. She hoped the look in her eyes could express what she could not bring herself to say aloud.
When the bathroom door had swung shut, Paige turned toward Alan. He stared at her with an intensity that made her tremble anew.
She wasn’t sure who he was—hell, she wasn’t even sure what he was, and after seeing the unnatural light shining in his eyes, it wouldn’t take much to convince her that he wasn’t completely human—but she was grateful.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
She looked down as she tried to tug all the parts of Selena’s dress back into place. “I’m fine.”
Alan reached out and forced her chin up. “I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if you were sore.”
“A little,” she admitted. “But I don’t mind.”
It was the truth. Her shoulders and wrists ached from strain, but for the first time she could remember Paige could feel every part of her body. She could feel the blood rushing through her veins, the cold tile beneath her feet, the sharp tingle as the blood came back to her fingertips. Her body felt alive, and Alan was the reason. He had done this to her.
Those bright blue eyes, the ones that had been so demanding moments before, looked at her approvingly. He laced his fingers with hers and held tight. A little thrill raced through Paige. It was a simple act but it made her feel less like she was with Alan and more like she was his.
The hall was nearly empty. Only a few security guards stood near the door and desk. Everyone else must have returned to the lounge.
Paige hoped that wasn’t where Alan was taking her. She was too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, for any more games.
Instead, he led her toward the marble staircase in the center of the hall.
“Where are we going?” Paige asked after they had walked up three flights.
“To my room. I want you with me.”
That was it. No pretending. No guessing at what he wanted. She asked, and he told her the truth. She could agree or refuse. It was just that beautifully simple. After the constant insecurity of the last five years, Paige wanted to weep with relief.
“I don’t think I can do that again so soon.”
“I wouldn’t ask you too. No more play. Not tonight at least.” The laughter was back in his voice. He sounded lighter, almost as unburdened as she was.
He took her to a room at the end of a long hallway. The curved wall was lined with windows looking out over San Francisco. Paige went to them and looked over the sea of city lights and concrete.
“It’s a beautiful view.” There was no response. Paige turned, but he wasn’t behind her. A moment later, she heard the sound of rushing water in another room. She followed it.
She found him in the bathroom, standing next to a massive antique tub.
“You said you were sore. I thought a bath might help.”
Paige nodded. A bath sounded like heaven.
He pulled his black t-shirt over his head, exposing a long torso, lean and tight.
After Alan was undressed, he slid Selena’s ridiculous dress above her head and tossed it to the ground. Then he stepped into the steaming water first, motioning for Paige to follow.
She settled into the space between his thighs, leaning her back fully against his solid chest. His hands moved over her shoulders and arms, washing away the lingering ache. Her heart and breath calmed. A feeling of sated, quiet peace began to spread through her.
This was good. This was right.
“I’m glad I came here tonight,” she said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“So am I, Paige,” Alan said. “So am I.”
Yes, someone had been listening to her birthday wish after all, and she’d recieved exactly what she wanted.
By Rebecca Lyndon
She came from the water.
Richard of Guildford caught sight of someone rising from the waves of the Orontes. Gooseflesh rose up along his arms despite the lingering heat of day. He couldn’t tell through the dark desert night who disturbed the surface of the river, but he held up his balled fist, silently signaling the eight men following behind him to stop. Richard hadn’t kept them alive on their trek to the Holy Land these past three years by ignoring his gut instincts.
They were far from the reinforcements of the siege camp, and, even though Richard believed to his core that his men were the best there were, none of them would stand a chance against a large enough ambush.
He pulled his sword from its scabbard as a lithe form rose above the water, a lone woman that moved with an unearthly grace. Gossamer silks clung to her body as she floated toward the bank. Silver moonlight glistened off the curve of her breasts and the wide swell of her hips. Her dark mound showed clearly beneath the thin fabric. Richard tightened his grip around the hilt of his blade even as his cock hardened.
She smiled as she stepped onto the grassy bank. Hardly the reaction one expected of a seemingly defenseless woman facing an armed band of warriors. But this was no ordinary woman. Even if Richard had not seen her gliding across the river, he still would have sensed it. Her amethyst eyes sparkled with their own light.
“Put down your weapons.”
Richard heard her voice, clear and loud in his mind, but her full, red lips had not moved. He was certain of it.
When Richard shook his head in an exaggerated manner, commanding his men to stand firm against her, she waved her hand. The steel tip of his sword was forced to the ground with such strength that it buried in the cracked earth at his feet. Richard turned to see that the same unseen force had disarmed them all.
“What are you?” Richard demanded.
The willowy creature slid her gaze appreciatively down his body as she stepped closer. Her dark nipples puckered. “I go by many names, but you may call me Ashira.”
“And I say, we are better off calling you by your true name,” Richard’s second in command, Rhys, said from directly behind him. “Demon.”
“Whatever name you choose for me is of little importance. You should be more interested in what I can do for you.”
“We want nothing from you she-devil,” Richard said.
She dragged a slender finger down his chest. Richard tried to raise his hand to slap her away but found he was frozen, held fast by invisible bonds.
“Is that so? Your minds, all of them, tell a different story. Each one of you is a powerful warrior. Together you are perhaps the most potent fighting force in this war. This crusade of yours has made brothers of you, but it has also worn you thin. You are tired,” she said, weaving through the line of men as her dark magic held them immobile. She stopped in front of each man, looking deep into his eyes, taking his measure. “Tired of watching good men cut down. Tired of watching your friends waste away with disease, their minds devoured by madness. But most of all, you are tired of waiting to get your due.”
“Lies,” Geoffrey Stark said as she passed him, but his voice lacked conviction.
But her words were all too true. They had all started out on this journey with thoughts of securing their places in heaven, but if the last three years had shown them anything it was that hell was not some far off realm. The fires of perdition would pale in comparison to the agonies they had all endured in this infernal place.
“I can give you all that you desire,” she said.
“You can end the siege?” Richard asked.
“Of course. But I can give you much more than that.”
“What else?” he asked.
“Riches. Power. Immortality.”
Richard struggled to free himself from her spell, but he was hit by a powerful wave of lust as she returned to him. He imagined those red lips of hers wrapping around the length of his cock, sucking him dry.
Those same lips curved up in a knowing smile. “Yes, that as well.”
“And the price you ask for these precious gifts?”
Her teasing look turned serious. “Surrender your own release, and instead offer up to me the pleasure of all the women you touch.”
Give up his orgasm and become an incubus? He weighed the temptation of nearly limitless strength and wealth against the cost.
“For all eternity?”
She shook her head. “One day a woman will return your release to you. On that day you will know that your service is no longer required.”
“It is the devil’s bargain,” Rhys called out, but his voice was heavy with the same desire that rushed through Richard. “We would be empty shells. Nothing more than pleasureless demons.”
Ashira rubbed her breast with her hand as she looked up and down Richard’s Welsh friend. “Not pleasureless. You would still feel the ecstasy of every lick and stroke, but there will be no release.” She turned and rubbed her ass against Richards’s groin for emphasis. His cock was close to bursting. “Just think of the comforts that could be bought with all that wealth. Enough to fill a hundred lifetimes.”
Richard swallowed hard. He knew some of his men would be persuaded by this creature’s promises of treasure and power. He didn’t fault them, but it was the thought of immortality that swayed Richard to Ashira’s side. He had lost half of his fighting force since leaving the shores of England, and he would gladly let heaven damn him if it meant he didn’t have to lose another friend.
“Spare my men, even any who don’t agree, and I will accept your deal,” Richard said.
Ashira smiled, and her look changed to one of pure hunger. She fell to her knees before him. She pulled at his chausses, freeing his cock. Her tongue snaked out to wet her lips.
“Then you are mine.” Her mouth descended on him, taking his full length in a single motion.
Richard groaned as her wet tongue encircled him. Her cheeks pulled in as she sucked hard on his shaft.
Realizing he was free from her divine bondage, Richard brutally grasped on to her long fall of golden hair and held her head still. Her glittering, purple-colored eyes looked up at him. Their corners lifted. She approved of his show of control.
He surged again and again into her mouth. He waited for the telltale sounds of her throat’s resistance, but she took all of him without complaint. He could feel the power surging through her body. His heart began to pound to the beat of it. He thrust in time to the primal rhythm. Her long fingers bit into the flesh of his hips, holding him as mercilessly as he held her.
He had gone past the usual point of climax, but she continued to pull the dark pleasure from him.
“Do you swear to serve me?” Her voice was clear in his mind even though her lips were wrapped tight around him.
“I swear,” Richard said through gritted teeth.
White-hot ecstasy overtook him. His release gushed down her throat. Roaring out into the dark night, he came his last.
Richard staggered backwards, and away from the creature he had entered into this damnable pact with. His skin felt branded by her touch. He opened and closed his fist, marveling at the feel of unnatural strength flowing into his body.
Then Richard watched as all eight others took their turn with Ashira.
By Lisa Alder
Subtle light flickered against the black walls. Blood red velvet drapes hung at the windows and let in the fading rays of the sun. While flames licked at the soot-stained stone, Vetis, Demon of Corruption, lounged in the velvet upholstered chair, one leg flung over the ornately carved wooden arm, and stared disinterestedly at the destructive, seductive beauty of the flames.
Gods, he needed a distraction. A challenge.
Prince Gaap had ordered them all to gather as much human energy as possible to prepare for an imminent attack by the Fae. Intelligence suggested the Fae would advance soon. The Demons had to be ready. A battle was coming. He understood. And he would fight to the death before he spent another moment trapped beneath the Earth again. But Vetis was deadly bored with siphoning the energy from dissolute humans bent on destroying their lives with greed.
“A visitor, my Lord.” His current butler, Figgins, bowed.
“Who is it?” Did he even want to know? He swallowed the compulsion to send away without an audience whoever chose to disturb him.
“Edward, the gambler, sir.”
Vetis sighed.
The sod was trying his patience. The man owed Vetis. That was what happened when you bargained with a Demon...and lost.
“Get a cell ready.” He would draw the energy generated by the man’s fear and be done with him.
“Yes, my Lord.” Figgins clicked his heels together. “Shall I show them in?”
“Them?”
“Ah, yes. He has...a lady with him.”
Stupid sod. He thought to trade another for his debt. How many freaking times had these ignorant humans thought they could get away with cheating a demon? Would they never learn?
“Show them in.”
“Very good sir.”
Figgins opened the grand doors to his chamber with a flourish. A sudden rush of cool air swept through the room and the velvet curtains swayed as if heralding a sea change.
Towing a reluctant woman along in his wake, the fool gambler strode in as if he owned the castle. His hard-soled shoes clicked along the stone floor, the harder tap of her stilettos a counter beat to the gambler’s stride.
Still slouched on his throne chair, Vetis observed them.
Edward the gambler fairly vibrated with energy, radiating an excitement strangely at odds with his predicament. He saw no fear in the man. His thoughts were full of only anticipation.
So Vetis turned his gaze to the woman. She’d been dressed up like a hooker on the walk. Black stiletto heels, a black micro-mini so short he was sure if she turned around, he’d be able to see the globes of her ass peeking out the bottom, her wares on display. The black halter top was cut down to her belly button, in a wide V, displaying a decent set of breasts. Large, round, real, her nipples poked the black material but there was no doubt it was not from arousal.
Her face was like stone. Sharp caramel eyebrows over a long blade of a nose and a cupid’s bow mouth the angels would have wept for, except for the fact that she was not smiling. Her angelic blond hair tumbled down her back.
But what drew him was her eyes.
Not one single emotion betrayed her. Her gaze was flat, blue, empty. When he probed her mind, he saw...nothing.
How curious. As the Demon of Corruption, his goal in life was to make people do things against their nature. But first he needed to know their nature. Her mind was blank. Too blank.
“You think to bring me a prostitute to pay off your debt?”
By only a flicker of her eyelid did she reveal her distress. Not a prostitute then.
“No, no.” The gambler laughed and a hint of nervousness finally edged into his mind. He pinched the woman, hard, on her arm. “This is my wife. Smile, dear.”
The woman’s x-rated mouth remained still.
“Your wife?” Vetis said flatly. He pressed his mouth into a straight line. It was nearly impossible to corrupt one already so depraved as to offer his wife to a Demon. Now if the gambler had protested, it would have been fun to demand her as payment. But this, this was annoying.
This...insect dared to try to dupe
him
?
“And why did you bring her with you?” Vetis slumped even further in the chair, shifting his weight to put his chin on his fist.
Come, you ass. Show me your true colors so I can decide what your punishment shall be. And how I can reap the energy from your psyche.
“I would offer her to you.”
“I see.” Vetis blinked slowly. The woman hadn’t made any movement. None. She was preternaturally still. And her mind continued to stay amazingly blank. He had no idea if the man’s offer repulsed her or aroused her. Absolutely none.
What an interesting turn of events.
“Come closer, sweet.” He crooked a single finger at her, watching her dead eyes. The burning wood crackled, sparks flaring in the still silent cavern of a room as the earthy aroma of peat wafted lazily through the air.
The woman didn’t move.
“Is she drugged?” Vetis asked with pretended idleness. He couldn’t say why the thought enraged him, but Vetis suddenly wished the man would answer yes, just so he could hurt him.
Edward shifted, his body turned toward the fire as if mesmerized. “No, my Lord.” He pushed his bride toward Vetis without so much as a flinch. “Go to him.”
She shuffled toward him in the stilettos, her gait uneven, as if she were unaccustomed to walking in the sharp heels. The sacrificial woman hesitated at the two-tiered dais that held his chair.
“Come, come, up the steps.”
She lifted her gaze to his. Still no emotion. Still no feeling. And apparently she was mute. After another moment of hesitation she placed one foot daintily in front of the other until she stood directly in front of him.
Up close he could see the makeup slathered over her face. Rouge painted her cheeks, deathly pale beneath the false front. Her mouth, the pouty, puffy lips glossed shiny and slick, trembled.
Finally emotion. Energy he could feed off of. Fear? Desire?
Vetis tested the air, sniffing delicately to sense her mood. Besides an overabundance of some blowsy floral perfume, nothing else scented the air.
“Of course, I can’t make a decision until I sample the merchandise.” He rubbed his fingers against his thumb, then wiggled his digits, like a safecracker getting ready to breach a vault. Vetis slid his palm inside the slinky halter top and brushed a thumb against her nipple.
The woman’s skin was frigid.
As cold as her ice blue eyes.
Even in the heat of his room, she was nearly frozen. She didn’t react. Not one flicker of emotion crossed her face. With the exception of that slight tremble in her lips and the barest flinch of an eyelid earlier, she showed no reaction. She remained perfectly still while he brushed his thumb against the hard point.
He slid his other hand between her knees and with a gentle press, indicated she spread her legs. The skin of her inner thigh was soft as the down feathers that stuffed the comforter on his bed. Slowly, he slid his fingers toward her mound.
No underwear blocked his path. Wiry curls protected her feminine slit. He rubbed his fingers over her. Nothing. No juice wet his hand. The little nub of her clitoris was cold and dry against his fingertips.
He couldn’t take his gaze away from hers.
She was like a giant void. He had to wonder, as she stood without protest against his intimate invasion. What would it take to corrupt her?
Tucked into leather breeches, his cock lay flaccid against his stomach. He waited for some sort of response. If nothing else she’d be good for a few blow jobs. He imagined his cock ramming in and out of her mouth, fucking her throat, until he came jetting down into her body.
And still his body remained limp, uninterested.
Gods, this boredom was killing him.
The sensible, the logical move would be to send the woman home and feed off the sick energy pouring from the gambler. But, her absolute lack of emotion was like a siren, tempting him toward an uncertain path and payout. He wanted to corrupt her, wanted to harness her energy.
Prince Gaap would clearly advocate for the former.
But Vetis needed something. Needed a challenge.
The woman stood straight and still while he tested her indifference. With one hand he cupped her breast while he trailed the other back down her thigh.
He probed her mind again. And finally, he saw.
Enjoy The Demon’s Bargain now!
By LGC Smith
With all the melodrama of a forties film star, I clutched my robe together and summoned a look of high dudgeon. All I got for my trouble was a bark of laughter.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Rafe covered my hands with his and pried the robe loose from my grip. “I didn’t get a good look at those magnificent breasts in any kind of decent light.”
He spread the material wide, and I let him. In part because I was too flummoxed to stop him, and in part because I wanted him to look at me. I wanted to see what the sight of my naked flesh did to him.
It put fire in his eyes. And his cock, if the rapidly swelling bulge in his crotch was any indication.
He pushed the robe off my shoulders, then pulled it tight at waist level, trapping my arms against my body so that they pushed my breasts up.
“Lovely.” Lust darkened his voice.
I felt objectified. Entirely. And I loved it.
Heat flashed through me again with the thrill of his appreciation of my body.
“What I’d like to do to these breasts.” With his free hand, he hooked one nipple between two fingers and pinched.
Both of my nipples contracted further, even though he only touched the tip of my left breast. I stared into his eyes, caught by the strength of desire I found there. All I could think about was how he might play with my breasts.
“I love your tits.” He squeezed again. “They should always be bare. Seen. Far too ripe and tempting to be covered up. They should be displayed. Enjoyed.”
It sounded crass, but it wasn’t. His raw words made my sex ache, and in a moment I was as wet as I’d been outside in the garden.
Shame warred briefly with arousal. I wanted to demand he tell me why he made me feel like every nerve was going to catapult out of my skin. I wanted to stop the exquisite torment.
Instead, tongue thick, my voice lower than I’ve ever heard it, I said, “What would you like to do to them?”
He tugged on my captured nipple, then drew it out as far as he could without losing it. “I want to suck and pull on your tits until your nipples are so engorged and sensitive that a whisper of air makes them sting and grow harder. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Oh, God, yes, I would love it. I didn’t think I should, but the tight ache building in my sex said otherwise. Unable to answer, I gaped at him, wanting more naughty words. More of his hands on my breasts. More of the sweet pain that stabbed deep into my core.
He squeezed a little harder, then twisted my nipple. Not too hard. Just right.
There was no stopping the little hiss of pleasure I made, nor the arch of my back that thrust my breasts a little higher. More fully into his hand.
A deep chuckle rumbled through him. “Yes. You’d like it, but it makes you feel dirty when I say it.”
Heat flushed from my breasts all the way to my hairline in a flood of anticipation and shame.
“Shall I suckle you now?”
My voice guttered in a low, inarticulate sound, but I managed a single nod and his head descended. He sucked hard on my left breast while he pulled firmly on my right nipple. Desire crashed through me, and my knees threatened to buckle.
Without letting go of either tit, he backed me up until I felt the bed come up behind me, at which point he turned so that he fell on his back onto the mattress with me atop him. My robe was caught between us, my arms still pinned, but he levered me to where my breasts hung over his face. I struggled to free myself, wanting to hold myself on my own arms so both of his hands were available to touch me.
“More,” I said, jerking my elbows against the terry cloth. “Harder.”
He stopped, and his eyes met mine. There was a dark question there, one I couldn’t put to words, but that didn’t matter.
I nodded.
He ripped the robe away from me, then hoisted me higher over his body, and rubbed his face across my breasts, nipping at each nipple in turn as he positioned my hands on either side of his head.
“Don’t move,” he growled, pinning me with a fierce look.
“No,” I said. It was more a breathless gasp than a word. Then, “Please.”
Pleasure and lust made him shudder once before he ran his hands up from my waist, pushing my breasts high. They spilled over his hands, and one by one, he brought each to his mouth, laved each nipple with his hot tongue, and then bit each one.
The pain was nothing to the erotic thrill of knowing my breasts pleased him, and that he wanted me so intensely.
