by Nina Pierce
He used his fingers to spread her wider, exposing the hard knot of her clitoris. He sucked it into his mouth, teasing it with quick flicks of his tongue. Her ass and thighs went rigid beneath his hands as she rode his mouth. Flattening his tongue, he pressed it the length of her slit, moaning when moisture spilled from her body and coated his tongue.
Derek pressed two fingers into her velvet channel, the muscles convulsing around them, urging them deeper. He complied, pumping them in time with the rocking of her hips. He found the pearled nub of clit again and flicked the tip of his tongue along the sensitive bundle. The air filled with the sexy sound of his finger fucking and Sara’s desperate gasps of pleasure.
Her nails dug into her palms as her back arched, her breasts a silhouette against the ceiling. He watched her head loll back, her mouth open in a silent cry. She hung on the precipice, not breathing or moving for several heartbeats.
He continued his assault, his tongue and fingers teasing her flesh, focused on the one goal of helping her find the release her body sought.
“Sara, come for me.”
Just as he knew it would, his command tipped her over the edge of bliss and she shattered in his arms. Her muscles clenched around him, her moisture coating his fingers. She bucked in his arms as her orgasm took all control from her.
She cried out his name. Not Master, but Derek. His heart swelled as her words begged him to stop and her body urged him to continue. Slowly, he brought her down from the bliss. His tongue drew wider and wider circles, easing away from her the sensitive flesh, until he was gently nibbling her thighs.
He eased her leg off his shoulder before he stood, meeting her heavy-lidded gaze. There was no dominance. No submission. Only two souls finding their place in one another’s heart.
“I’m going to make love to you now, Sara.”
“I’d like that.”
Some small part of his brain was aware of the noises and scents of the dungeon, but Derek had become singularly focused on the woman in his arms. The one who had very obviously taken possession of his heart and ignited a fire in his blood.
But he would not rush this. They’d worked hard to find this moment.
He shed his jeans, standing before her, exposed and defenseless. There was nothing between them. No walls. No secrets. No heartache.
He sheathed himself with a condom before molding his body to hers, thigh to shoulder. Heat and passion cocooned them in their own little bubble. He was aware of nothing, but the joy and hunger sparking in the deep blue depths of her eyes as their gazes met and held. Their panting breaths mingled when he bent and brushed his lips gently across hers.
She sighed his name when he released her wrists from the chains and lifted her. Sara’s legs wrapped around his waist and he dug his fingers into the luscious curve of her hips to anchor her. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. Their kiss was a tentative taste, as they nipped and suckled. Quiet words of passion falling from their lips.
He shifted their bodies, pushing his erection into her moist heat in an excruciatingly slow slide that drew a moan of pleasure from both of them. Her smile trembled when he rocked his hips, pulling out of the velvet fist of her body and pushing back again. Her muscles tightened around him, sending shockwaves of pleasure along his nerves.
“Soar with me, Sara.” He whispered the words and her body went rigid in his arms. She threw her head back, her chin lifted to the ceiling as waves of raptured quaked through her body. He followed her into the abyss of pleasure, digging his fingers into ass, burying himself impossibly deeper in her wet heat. They rode their orgasms together, milking every moment of bliss.
Her smile was shy and tentative when she opened her eyes again.
Derek would never tire of making love to her.
Sara melted in his arms, nestling her face in the curve of this neck. Her heart hammered against his and her heavy pants feathered across his skin, but didn’t conceal the tears dampening his throat.
Shit. He was prepared for most anything, but not her tears. Cold fear knotted in his gut at the thought of her having second thoughts. “Sara, it’s all right. Whatever you want, there’s no pressure.”
She lifted her head, her smile trembling. “Don’t misunderstand, Derek, these are tears of happiness.” Her lips tenderly brushed his. “No one’s ever made love to me like that. Made me feel so sensual. So cherished. So…loved.”
Relief flooded through him, his heart bursting with happiness. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to be sure to repeat that performance back in Boston.”
“Who would’ve thought accepting Ethan’s invitation to XTC would help me reclaim my life and find me a Master so close to both my home and my heart?”
The End
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from Nina Pierce
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Chapter One
Nicholas Gradin III splashed three more finger of thirty-year-old scotch into the crystal tumbler sitting on the antique desk, not bothering to add ice. He didn’t need some watered-down version of liquid courage. At this moment, he needed straight up, balls-to-the-walls confidence that everything would work out in his favor.
Even though this situation was completely of his own making, Nicholas wasn’t prepared to face the huge obstacle that stood between him and his freedom. He swallowed a generous portion of the scotch and turned to stare out the window, wondering if he’d make it through this weekend’s ordeal with his sanity—and his marriage—intact.
Autumn had come early to the Hudson Valley. The maples outside his window were already tipped with splashes of orange and yellow. He studied the lush lawn, its golden blades rippling in the breeze, hoping the tranquility would soothe the frayed ends of his nerves. A derisive laugh escaped his lips and he swallowed down his delusions with more scotch. Who the hell was he kidding? The lawn wasn’t lush—it was overgrown and unkempt. Without the benefit of the landscaping service that he’d fired last spring, it looked like shit. Just like the rest of the mansion’s gardens.
He’d set up his office in this room on the east side of the house specifically so he could enjoy a view not marred by the ugly vines that tortured his very existence. But perhaps he should be staring at the vineyards. At least his step-daughter and her skeleton crew were still meticulously nurturing those plants. Just one more month, six weeks at the most, and the last of the grapes would be harvested and the vines left to whither. Nicholas could only hope all of his lies would die along with them.
In his youth, the vineyard had been his playground full of fertile soil that not only nurtured the grapes, but a foolish boy’s vivid imagination as well. As he’d grown it had become his gym, offering him hours upon hours of backbreaking work that honed his muscles and allowed him to dream of a different life. Now, imprisoned by its incessant demands, he’d crested the hill of middle-age, finding nothing but heartache and misery on the downhill slope of his life.
Like his late parents, the vineyard was sucking the very marrow from his bones and leaving him wilted and apathetic. Nicholas had no doubt, if he continued on this course, it would kill him one day. He figured drowning himself in the oblivion of liquor was a preferable path to death.
Nicholas slugged back the rest of the scotch.
“Knock. Knock.”
Turning to the lilting sound of his wife’s voice, Nicholas stared at the younger woman lounging elegantly against the open door. Her ebony hair curved over bare shoulder, the ends nestling in her plentiful cleavage. The elastic neckline of her shirt sat low enough to show off the pink lace of her bra. Tiger-striped pants in hot-pink hugged her legs, showing off curves that made his mouth water. He had no doubt she wore nothing beneath the exotic second skin. Even after seven years of marriage, the woman was a walking hard-on. He thanked the heavens every day that she’d chosen him.
“You worry too much, my love,” she said coyly. Like a witch casting a spell, the smile she flashed stole all coherent thought. “I think
you need to take your mind off what’s troubling you.” Nonchalantly, she lifted a bunch of red grapes to her full lips and curled her tongue around one, her mouth making love to it before she sank her teeth into its flesh. Juice dripped down her chin and she gathered it up with a flick of her tongue. “Besides, it’s only two and a half days. You can do anything for two and a half days.”
Grapes. The fruit of hell itself. Most of the time he hated the damn things. The smell. The texture. The sight. But when Carmine ate them, Nicholas remembered all the reasons they were known as the fruit of the Gods. Even she could turn the despised produce into a delicate food of seduction.
“Do I look troubled?” He poured another splash of scotch just to keep his hands busy.
Carmine’s gaze raked over his skin as the tip of her tongue caressed the dangling grapes. In and around the swollen fruit, her tongue darted and tasted. “You look…tense.” With a flirtatious wink, she snatched another grape and took it into her mouth with a loud pop. “I wanted to help you stop stewing and relax.”
Nicholas took a long swallow of the liquor, trying to whet the sudden dryness in his mouth. “I’m not stewing. What’s ten years? A blip on the life radar.”
With a doubtful arch of her brow, she pushed from the doorway and walked to him. Her black stiletto heels clicked softly across the hardwood floor, matching the quickening beat of his heart. Carmine slinked up to him, molding her soft body to his, thigh to chest.
She slid her palm up his chest. “The tension is corded in your neck…” Her long, pink nail dragged up his neck and over his jaw. “It knots right here…” Her nail continued its journey across his forehead. “And it leaves deep lines on your brow.” She went up on her toes and dragged her teeth along his chin, her breath warm and hot on his lips. “But I know how to take your mind off the homecoming.”
She was right. He needed her as much as his next breath.
His arm went around her waist and he swung her around. With one quick swipe of his forearm, he cleared the papers from the top of the desk and laid her on the polished surface. “I have no doubt you can make me forget everything, Schätzchen.” Her throaty laugh at the German pet name was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed up her shirt and filled his hand with the weighty flesh of her breast. Even through the thin lace he felt her nipple harden beneath his palm. “You’ve let loose the demons and they intend to be satisfied.”
“It’s what I was hoping.”
He pressed his lips to hers, hungrily nipping at her full bottom lip. She opened for him on a sigh and he took possession of her mouth. The taste of her filled his mouth, at once familiar and comforting and hot and erotic. There was no tenderness in their kiss, just the ravenous need to feed the sexual fire they’d ignited. At some point she’d dropped the grapes and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, her nails dragging seductively through his hair.
A mewling moan of desire lifted from her throat and Nicholas growled in response, his anger and trepidation burning out in his lust. He broke from her mouth and trailed love bites down her neck, marking her olive skin with the rasp of his whiskers. His teeth grazed the tender hollow of her throat where her pulse hammered against her flesh. Carmine’s breath caught with each nip of pain. The sound hummed along his nerves, stroking the fires of passion.
His erection pressed at the juncture of her thighs, both of their bodies demanding more.
He hauled Carmine to her feet and ripped the flimsy top over her head, thrilling at the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Damn, he loved how he still made her breathless. With a practiced flip of his fingers, the front clasp of her silky bra separated and he filled his mouth with the soft skin of her breast. He sucked a pebbled nipple into his mouth, pinching it skillfully between his teeth while his tongue flicked at the sensitive tip. His hand found its way to her other breast, firmly reshaping the fleshy mound, his fingers rolling the pearled bud.
“Oh, Nicholas.” The words came out on a breathy whisper as her tongue teased and stroked the tender ridges of his ear.
Driven by her cries of pleasure, he pushed her breasts together, alternately biting and licking the puckered points of her nipples. He knew how the pain increased her enjoyment, which served him well. He needed to expend his nervous energy pleasuring his wife.
Carmine’s fingers ripped at his shirt, buttons popping and bouncing on the floor. She tore it open, her nails tangling in the hair dusting his chest. He may be two decades her senior, but his daily workouts and his German heritage kept his body in prime physical condition.
“Take me, Nicholas.” She undid his belt. “Use me to slay the beasts. Don’t let the fear eat you up from the inside.”
Her words slapped him from his sexual stupor, He lifted his head and stared at her, panicked that she knew more than she’d let on. He wound his fist in her hair and tipped her head back, his gaze searching her exquisite beauty. Only love and trust sparked in the chocolate depths of her eyes.
“Let me make you forget,” she said, her fingers threading into his hair as she pulled him into a kiss which he soon dominated.
With renewed fervor, Nicholas stripped down her leggings, his breath hitching at the sight of her shaved mound. Most nights, the vision of her silken skin would drop him to his knees and he would feast on her sweet nectar while his wife quaked and shattered beneath his ministrations. But it wasn’t tender caresses and sweet epithets he wanted from her. He needed to take her hard. Mark her as his. Make her remember all the reasons why they were so good together.
Without a word, he turned her and bent her over his desk. He stepped on the leggings at her knees, pushing them the rest of the way to the floor, loving the way it bound her ankles. He pressed her down on the cool surface of the desk and wrapped her hands around its edge.
He leaned over the curve of her back, the warmth of her flesh searing his skin. His lips were a breath from her ear when he spoke. “Is there something you want from me, Schätzchen?”
“Please…please don’t make me beg.” The shiver of pleasure that vibrated down her spine was nearly his undoing.
“Oh, but that is exactly what I want you to do.” He straightened and brought his hand down on the sweet curve of her ass, the sound punctuated by her cry of surprise. Her hips lifted in invitation for another. He obliged with two rapid strikes, drawing another moan from her throat. Moisture leaked from her sex and glistened on her nether lips. The intoxicating smell of her arousal wrapped around his nostrils and shot flames of lust through his veins.
His hand came down on her cheeks several more times before he tenderly caressed her reddened flesh, his fingers flirting with her most sensitive flesh. “Your body speaks for you.”
“Please…Nicholas. Now. I need you…now.”
Even without her appeal, he couldn’t have waited any longer to join his body with hers. He stripped out of his khakis and silk boxers, his cock bouncing with the motion. His need was so overwhelming that he didn’t take time to slide his swollen shaft up her honey-coated slit and ready her. Without preamble, he thrust into her tight channel, her heat surrounding him like a silken fist. Canting his hips, he buried himself to the hilt. Her body trembled around him as he pulled out and slammed into her again. Skin slapped against skin, lifting with their mutual moans of pleasure. This was not lovemaking by any stretch of the imagination. This was pure, mindless fucking—a cathartic release of pent up resentment and cowardice.
Nicholas had no idea how he’d get through this weekend without his wife to both hold him up and shield him from the emotional pain that was to come.
She understood his desperate need to lose himself in her body and pushed back against his assault, gasping each time he filled and stretched her. He rammed into her over and over, losing himself in the bliss coursing through his body. His fingers dug into the flesh of her bottom where his hand prints glowed a lovely red.
The pressure built and his balls pulled tight to his body. Shockwaves of pleasure bunched in his back and shim
mied along his cock. His wife cried out as her orgasm shuddered through her, sending him tumbling into the abyss of ecstasy. Mindlessly riding the waves of euphoria, they rocked against each other, milking the last of their pleasure, their guttural cries of joy lifting and filling the room with their love. Her thighs quaked against his as Nicholas spent himself in her hot depths.
He fell heavily on her back, his cock still nestled in her silken channel. Sweeping her hair from Carmine’s back, he kissed between her shoulder blades, loving the salty taste of her glistening skin. He wished they could stay just this way, in a cocoon filled with their love and his secrets hidden from the harsh reality of the world.
End of Excerpt
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