So why did her knees shake as she straddled his body? She was the one in control, but his harsh, tight features told her she’d leashed a tiger. How soon before he broke his bonds?
Soon, she hoped. With her gaze upon his face, she centered her moist cleft over his shaft, sliding moisture over the tip until he was positioned for her taking.
Cantor’s face was harsh and drawn, his lips curled back and teeth gritted. His eyes challenged her to take him.
But she wanted more.
Martha’s hands rose to her breasts and she fingered her nipples, circling on them as she circled her hips on the head of his cock, screwing downward only far enough to take the head inside her.
Cantor’s nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. His hips lifted to press himself deeper inside.
She raised her breasts, offering them for his enjoyment—and hers.
His gaze locked on her nipples and he sat up, bracing his body on his hands, and rooted at one breast until his mouth closed over the plump tip.
Her head fell back, too heavy for her neck, and she sank upon his cock, relishing how well he filled her, stretched her vagina. Her thighs shook, but she rose and then fell, taking him deeper this time. Slowly at first, then faster, she glided up and down on his cock while his mouth suckled at her breast and his teeth chewed her aching tits.
“Cantor!” Her fingers dug into his shoulders, kneading the deep, rigid muscles, scraping his soft, sweaty skin, and finally clutching him tightly as she pumped, faster, harder, grinding down to increase the hot friction. The seduction was forgotten in her own burning need.
“Fuck me,” he growled against her breast.
She writhed and dipped, circling her hips to screw down on him, until all of his length was buried in her cunt.
“Fuck me, baby.” His teeth closed on a ripe nipple and bit.
Then she was lost to the rapture, flung beyond herself into space to shatter like a starburst. Her cries echoed against the bare rafters as her body shook. When her breath returned, ragged and harsh, she opened her eyes to find his gaze spearing into hers.
He hadn’t come.
As quickly as that thought crossed her mind, she found herself on her back, his hands pressing her legs high and wide. He plunged into her with a roar.
His knees stepped on the mattress, adjusting his thighs just so, jostling her hips roughly as he pumped, his breath coming in loud, guttural gasps.
Martha flailed wildly for purchase to anchor herself to withstand the storm, finally reaching above to grasp the ridge at the bottom of the headboard to halt her progress up the bed.
Still he pounded at her cunt—hard, sharp strokes that jarred her body. “Please, please,” she begged, sobbing now with renewed need, the fire deep inside her womb reignited by his powerful thrusts.
“Sweet, sweet bitch,” he cried, and he pumped faster, the sounds of their flesh smacking staccato, sweat glistening on his chest and face. He planted his hands in the mattress on either side of her shoulders and he flexed his buttocks, driving harder, faster, deeper—and suddenly he bellowed and pushed deep inside her, pulsing his hips as deeply as his cock could reach, grinding against her womb.
Another sunburst of ecstasy exploded in her belly, radiating down her legs to make them quake. Beyond breath, beyond thought, Martha reached out to hold him tight as he shuddered with completion, his cum spurting in hot waves.
Martha opened her eyes, surprised she hadn’t passed out. Her arms encircled Cantor’s heaving shoulders and she smoothed her hands over his strong, broad back.
A lifetime of holding him like this wouldn’t be enough.
Then a sound intruded and she looked over at Fahgwat. The young woman’s arms were wrapped around her belly and she shivered. She knelt so near that Martha saw the trail of liquid desire that striped her inner thigh.
She sighed. Fahgwat was her partner in this seduction, but their quarry was far from caged. And she owed the girl her satisfaction.
“Fah—Violet.” She patted the mattress beside her. “Lie down.”
Martha grasped Cantor’s heavy head and lifted it. His blue eyes opened and she smiled at him. “Violet has never been kissed by a man, nor has she experienced an orgasm.” She combed his hair from his face with her fingers and watched while his expression lost its slackness. As his cock stirred within her with renewed vigor, his gaze sharpened in suspicion.
She’d deliver to Cantor his desire, whether he wanted it or not. “Let’s show her what it’s all about.”
* * * * *
Fahgwat sat frozen beside the couple still joined on the bed. She wasn’t at all sure she was still interested in learning what sex was all about. What she’d witnessed frightened her deeply.
Her new friend, the one she had schemed with in girlish whispers and giggles, had transformed before her eyes as soon as she had taken the man’s large sword between her legs. Her gentle, smiling features had sharpened in agony, her mouth twisting, her cries ragged and loud, as she had strained to reach completion. There was nothing soft and wonderful in what she had witnessed.
From their conversations, Fahgwat had expected a transcending ecstasy. Her own body had readied for it, her nipples tightening, her breath increasing in unison with her heart rate. Even her vagina had reacted, spilling liquid down her thigh.
But as she’d watched Cantor rear up and flip Martha onto her back to pound at her body violently, her desire had changed to horror.
And Cantor, her blond god, had become a lion, roaring with anger, his body seeming grow larger, his muscles rippling with exertion to inflict his powerful, thrusting staff—sharp as a spike—at Martha’s soft body.
If this was lovemaking, she would gladly pass on the lesson.
Cantor reared back, disengaging with Martha’s body to kneel beside her. His wide chest rose and fell with his harsh breaths.
Martha sat up and shook her head. “Whew!” She glanced at Fahgwat and her expression turned to one of concern. “Violet, sweetheart, you don’t understand yet, but what just happened was pleasurable.”
“It is all right. I am a little tired. Perhaps we should sleep.”
Martha threw a concerned glance at Cantor. If anything, his face grew more frightening and his cock was growing again, huge and straight, with each passing moment.
“Lie down, sweetheart,” Martha urged her. “I promise he won’t do anything that frightens you.” Her hand reached toward her and Fahgwat didn’t flinch when Martha’s fingertip traced the path of the liquid that had grown cold on her thigh. “Some of it pleased you,” she said. She lifted the finger, smeared with Fahgwat’s juices, and brought it to Cantor’s mouth.
He shook his head, but she persisted and painted his lips with the moisture.
Unaccountably, Fahgwat felt a tightening in her womb.
Cantor’s nostrils flared and he inhaled, then his tongue licked his lips. His eyes closed and he groaned.
“Lie down on the bed,” Martha repeated.
This time, Fahgwat complied.
“I won’t take her.” Cantor’s voice was rough and gravelly.
“I know,” Martha said, “but you can give her a woman’s pleasure, no?”
Cantor swallowed, his expression intent, his gaze fixed on Fahgwat’s face. Then he closed his eyes and his shoulders relaxed, as if he’d surrendered a burden. “A woman’s pleasure?” He opened his eyes to reveal a hollow desperation. “What do you want, little girl?”
The tension that gripped her body earlier returned. She had to know him. If he were a lion, she would bear his strong bite. “I want to know how it feels to be desired and cherished by you,” she said quietly.
Cantor’s head bowed and his hands clenched on his thighs. “I make no promises. I won’t be your mate, your husband.”
“I don’t want a mate. I want a man to possess me, for a time, and I would learn what passion is.”
When he lifted his head, his gaze was stark and his cheeks were colored with heat. “Passion, I h
ave. If my mouth and my fingers will be enough, I’ll teach you.”
Fahgwat gave him a tentative smile. “I will assume you know what you are talking about. My body is yours. Your mouth and fingers will be mine. It will be enough.”
A movement beside her drew her attention. Martha rose from the bed. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” she said, her voice small and tinged with sadness.
This, they had not planned. “You would leave me?”
Martha smiled and gave a little shake of her head. “The bed will be crowded. Your first experience should be private. He’ll take care of you—or he’ll answer to me.” She said the last with a warning glance at Cantor. Then she slipped her shift over her head and left.
When the door closed behind Martha, Fahgwat turned back to the silent man. He still sat on his haunches, his hands hadn’t moved from his thighs.
Suddenly, afraid, she said, “I am unsure how to proceed. What would you have me do?”
“Nothing.” His lips tightened, and then he said, “And don’t touch me.”
She nodded and let her hands fall back on the pillow beside her head.
Cantor stretched out on the bed beside her, lying on his side. He cupped his sex, holding his cock away from her.
Fahgwat found his action amusing. Did he think he could tame it? His man’s flesh resisted all restraint. “Will you hold it the entire time we are together?”
A strained smile twitched at the corners of his lips. He released his cock and it poked against her thigh. “Don’t take offense. I promised I wouldn’t use this against you. I won’t break my word.”
Fahgwat laid her fingers against his cock and was surprised by the satiny texture of the skin clothing the hard shaft. Her thumb swept over the soft, swollen, heart-shaped tip, and then she looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I have been told there are many ways to love a man. Perhaps, you will show me one, tonight?”
He inhaled sharply and his wayward cock pulsed against her fingers. “Is it true you’ve never been kissed?”
She stared at his lips and swallowed. “Never,” she whispered.
“Come over here.” His voice was a sexy rumble.
She scooted closer to him on the bed, exquisitely aware of the long, thick shaft sliding along her thigh. The intensity of his gaze frightened and excited her, and she realized she hadn’t let go of his cock. She squeezed her fingers around him and then let him go.
Cantor moaned. “Witch!” His breath washed over her face as he leaned toward her and pressed his lips to hers.
Fahgwat forgot to breathe as his mouth slid over hers, rubbing her lips, openmouthed. His had the texture of warm silk and were firm. He took her lower lip between his and sucked.
Her breath grew uneven and shallow. She slid her fingers through his hair to hold him to her. So lost was she in the kiss, she scarcely noticed when her breasts met his chest. But Cantor moaned into her mouth, and his hand slid over her ribcage to capture one aching breast.
The nerve endings in her erect little nipple exploded, and Fahgwat moved restlessly on the bed, sliding her legs closer to his. She exhaled, lifting her chest to press against his hand, anything to increase the pressure where she ached most.
“Easy, girl. We’re taking this slow.” Cantor withdrew his hand and Fahgwat nearly wept with disappointment.
His mouth slid over hers again, and his tongue slipped inside. It was a soft, furtive caress. She tried to capture his tongue, and a dance of sliding strokes ensued which left Fahgwat trembling.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, she smiled. “So that was a kiss?”
“There’s more.” Cantor’s expression was warm and tender.
With her body nestled close to his larger frame, she felt protected, almost cherished. “I will surely die, my heart beats so fast.”
His hands cradled her face. “Shall I stop?”
Remembering her friend’s advice about not spoiling Cantor with too much praise, she suppressed the urge to let him see her growing excitement. Instead, she eyed him with suspicion. “Will I be blushing with embarrassment in the morning?”
His eyes wrinkled at the corners and his straight, white teeth flashed in a brief smile. “I’ll do my best not to embarrass you—too much.”
She grimaced. “I guess that I could not be any more embarrassed after showing you my pussy.”
At his raised eyebrow, she realized her slip and decided to confess. Somehow, her part in the calculated seduction seemed wrong. “Earlier, before Martha brushed my hair, she said if I showed you my woman’s nest, you would be overcome with lust.”
Cantor’s nostrils flared and his chest expanded. “It worked. I don’t like that you conspired to trap me.”
“Are you angry with us?”
His gaze followed his hand as it glided over her hip. Fahgwat had the feeling he wasn’t aware of what the caresses were doing to her, churning her insides—he was intent on his own exploration. “Martha has lot to answer for.”
Fahgwat slid her foot over his calf and found she liked the sensation of rubbing his silky hair. “Do not blame her. I was just as guilty. And I am not sorry.”
“How can I be angry,” he asked, “when I have what I crave most, right here?” His large hand covered her buttock and massaged.
She felt branded with the weight and heat of his palm and excited by the rhythmic motion. “You crave my backside?”
His hand pressed the small of her back, closely aligning their bodies from chest to toes. “I’m hot for it all—your sweet ass, your hot, naked cunt, your small, round tits.”
His words, spoken in a strained voice, thrilled her.
“But you’re an innocent. Your scheme, yours and Martha’s, was very dangerous. I was almost crazed with lust for you,” he said, squeezing her bottom.
She inhaled sharply and her hip undulated, caressing his cock. “Really?”
Cantor rubbed his face on her shoulder. “God, yes.”
“And you aren’t, anymore?”
“Huh!” he grunted. Cantor brought her hand between their bodies, back to his cock, and folded her fingers around him. “As long as you keep this warm, I won’t need your sweet cunt.”
Fahgwat clasped him tightly and realized her fingers did not meet. How would she ever take him into her body? At the thought, her body convulsed deep inside her vagina and she gasped.
“Does my blunt language offend you?”
“No.” She forced a small smile onto her lips. “I like it when you use coarse language. It makes me feel wicked…dirty.”
Cantor moaned and gave a little laugh. “Baby girl, you go right for a man’s balls, don’t you?”
Urgency filled her, tightening her belly. “Cantor, I’m feeling funny now. Little twinges.”
“Where?” He nipped her shoulder.
“Between my legs,” she said on a gasp. She squeezed her thighs together hoping to ease the ache.
“You’re horny. Let me help. “
“Yes. Oh, please.” Her abdomen trembled and she moved her legs restlessly, squeezing them together.
He pushed her to her back and rose over her, straddling her legs and lowering his body onto hers. His weight, the pressure of his heavy sex against her belly, his sac settling over her mons, assuaged her fevered movements for the moment.
He kissed her mouth, the edge of her jaw, and slid his tongue across the top of her shoulder. Shifting lower, his cock rested against the juncture of her thighs. She tried to open her legs to let him lie between, but his knees clamped hers together like a vise. She squirmed beneath him.
When his tongue fluttered across the top of her breasts she nearly came out of her skin. “Can-torr, Can-torr.”
He groaned and sucked her skin. “Baby, I love the way you say my name.”
“No talking. Kiss my breasts.” She grasped his ears and directed him to the tight tips, pressing her chest upward.
His shoulders shook with muffled laughter, but he took her whole breast inside his
mouth and did amazing things with his tongue and teeth until she whimpered and moaned.
Strangely, she felt an overwhelming urge to move her hips, and she fought against his restraint, bucking beneath him, but he continued loving her breasts, sliding the flat of his tongue over her nipple and fluttering against the tip. Then he tortured her other breast.
She was hot, cold, all at once. Her head thrashed upon the pillow. She needed something badly. “Please, Can-torr. I hurt. Help me.”
Cantor released her breast and cursed. “Hold still for a minute.” He rested his forehead on her shoulder, dragging breaths into his lungs as if he had run a long race. Finally, he lifted his head.
Fahgwat trembled to see his lion’s face again. Fear and excitement mingled to produce a juicy heat deep within her cunt.
He pressed a knee between her tightly clasped legs and encouraged her to spread them wide, and then knelt between them. With his hands under her knees, he raised them, and then pressed them gently apart.
Fahgwat had never felt so exposed. Her hand covered her open pussy, embarrassed by the moisture that seeped from inside her.
But Cantor pushed aside her hand and pressed it to her breast saying, “Play with this. I’m going to be busy here awhile.” He stretched out on the mattress, his elbows supporting the weight of his torso, his face poised above her slick cleft.
The first contact of his fingers on her mound was pure torture. Her hips lifted, seeking a deeper touch.
He smoothed his fingers over her outer lips. “Like velvet,” he whispered.
She watched him spread the dark folds of her sex, and his fingers traced an aching trail from the top of her slit to the bottom. Briefly, he pressed his thick thumb inside, just the pad, and Fahgwat’s hips jerked off the bed.
“Christ, you’re wet!” He brought his thumb to his mouth and licked away her juice.
Fahgwat’s eyes widened as he savored the taste of her. When he finished he used his wet thumb to flick her distended nipples. The sensation shot bolts of electricity from her breasts to her groin. She whimpered like a kitten.
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