by Julia Keaton
“You are so tight, my lady. Could it be you are still a virgin?”
She nodded, moaning as he stretched her painfully.
“You will not be after this night. I promise you.”
She moaned as quietly as she could, writhing on the bed as he pumped his fingers inside her.
“I have to make room for my cock if I’m not to rip you asunder. You are far too small to accept all of me.”
The quiet, threatening promise made her body gush. She felt her womb spasm, felt her juices gather, easing the thrust of his fingers. She could not help her body’s response to him, and he’d been tormenting her for so long, she found she did not have the willpower to resist him any longer. Her mind screamed at her for being so weak, but after finding pleasure in his mouth, she wanted to discover more.
What would it feel like to have that great beast tearing inside her? Shamefully, she wanted to find out, though she could never admit it aloud.
He moved from her quim, crawling up her body. She could feel he was naked, could feel his hair roughened skin sliding next to hers as he covered her with his body. His weight settled over her, and then his mouth was on her breast.
Logan drew her nipple into his mouth, dragging his teeth across her distended flesh and making her writhe beneath him. It was so hard to be quiet when all he seemed to want to do was torment her with his mouth and hands.
With one hand, he plucked and twisted her other nipple. The other roughly rubbed her clit, keeping her wet and ready to accept him. She felt his manhood prodding her slit, parting her folds.
She stiffened, wondering if this was what she really wanted, but she knew she needed this. Needed to be rent asunder, plundered, conquered and taken.
“Do you want my cock inside you?” he asked, pushing against her tiny hole with the giant head of his manhood.
“Yes,” she answered in the barest whisper.
“Good, because you would have it whether you wished it or not,” he growled against her ear. He sucked the lobe into his mouth and bit her hard, pushing himself inside her tight, virginal opening.
She gasped at the pain as he broke through her barrier, tensing all over.
“You must relax, mistress. You will take me. Take all of me,” he murmured huskily, moving his hand to rub her clit to ease her mind from the pain wracking her senses and threatening to overwhelm her.
“I cannot.”
“You will.”
He pushed fully inside, stretching her more than she thought she could ever stretch. She’d had no idea she could take something so large into her body, or that she would enjoy the pain, or that she would enjoy being mock-raped.
The naughtiness of being taken in her own bed, tied and blindfolded only served to increase her desire.
Logan settled fully inside, and she felt him bump against the boundaries of her sex. Her thigh muscles screamed from the stretch around his hips. He moved to grab her hips, pulling her up to meet him as he slowly withdrew from her body and began a pushing and pulling rhythm that she’d only felt before from his tongue and fingers.
This was so much more than that, so much stronger.
She could feel the veins of his shaft against the softly ridged muscles of her sex. Her channel clenched around him as delightful shivers of sensation began trembling through her sex. He slipped a pillow beneath her back as he supported her hips, raising her off the bed. The angle sent a sharp stab of pleasure to shoot through her limbs.
She moaned, gasping for breath. His mouth closed over hers and he pushed his tongue inside her mouth. Minutely, she tasted herself, but more than that, she tasted him, the wild savagery that seemed only to increase her level of excitement.
Had he done this to alleviate her guilt at allowing herself to be used as a whore? She didn’t know, only knew that she wanted to relinquish her body to him and the pleasure he evoked.
The broad head of his cock pulled nearly out, paused, then thrust back inside. A strangled cry ripped from her throat, swallowed by his kiss. Her tight channel burned in protest, but she liked it. God help her, she liked it.
He burrowed within her slick cleft, driving her into the softness of the pillow and mattress, dominating her with his body, his hands, and mouth. She sucked his tongue hungrily, conveying her desire as much as she could, her hands straining against her restraints, her body building toward the ecstasy he created within her.
Perspiration dampened her flesh and his, making them slick against each other. She loved the smell of him surrounding her, woodsy and clean and so distinct. She wanted him to imprint himself on her body, torture her with his flesh.
Logan ripped his mouth from hers, kissing her lips, her jaw, nibbling her throat as he continued to work the thick stalk of his cock inside and out of her. He drove her pleasure to new heights.
Winter fought for breath, panting and gasping as he surged within her. “Please,” she begged.
“As you command, sweet lady,” he ground out, taking her harder, deeper.
His lust filled every inch of her. She shuddered, feeling the ripples of her channel begin as pleasure mounted her nerves. Shivers assailed her, coursed through her limbs, traveling through her blood like singeing lightning. Heat blanketed her, making it hard to breathe, to think of anything beyond the bliss he drove inside her.
The urge to scream was great. She bit her lip until it stung from the pressure of her teeth. It felt like his hands and mouth were everywhere, all over her. She knew she couldn’t take much more or she would explode.
And then she did. She’d crested the rise until her body could take no more. Winter could do nothing but give herself to it.
She was unaware of her long, agonized moans until she felt his hand close over her mouth to quiet her cries. Searing pleasure rippled through her channel. She felt him jerk inside her, and then he grunted, rocking inside her body as an explosion of warm liquid rushed her womb, washing her with a heat she felt all over.
She moaned and screamed against his hand, biting him when it became too intense. Spots glittered behind her eyelids. Ecstasy overwhelmed her.
Logan collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily, crushing her with his hardness. Her nostrils flared with her breath as she willed her heaving chest and lungs to return to normal. He rolled, coming off of her, drawing her bound wrists down around his neck so that she was forced to embrace him. He pulled the blindfold off her head, allowing her to see for the first time.
Winter blinked at him, staring up at his dark face, feeling wonder at what they’d just done. She hadn’t had a chance to feel guilty yet, still enraptured by the good feelings shuddering through her body. He stroked her naked back in soothing circles, kissing her forehead and the top of her head, brushing his lips through her hair.
If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he loved her with the tender way he touched her.
“We’ve made a mess of your bed,” he murmured, indicating her virgin’s blood on the sheets.
She shivered. “I’ll just say I’ve had my monthly early,” she murmured, snuggling into his chest.
“Much as I would love to stay, it is late. And I must go. Unless you prefer a second encounter?” he said, his voice a rough whisper that sent trails of delight down her neck.
“No, it is for the best,” she said, feeling the loss of his warm arms when he removed himself from the bed. He untied her and slipped out the window as if he’d never been there.
Winter watched him go, wondering how she should feel about what happened. She decided thinking was better left for another day. She stripped the bloody sheets off, cleaned herself off, and crawled back into bed, willing sleep to come to her exhausted and well-loved body.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Winter read the morning news sheets with horror the next day, blushing ten shades of red in mortification. In the pages, it hinted at an illicit encounter between Lord Remington and a mysterious woman in his theater box the previous night at the performance of Romeo and Juliet.
Though no specific details were mentioned, neighbors of the box heard distinctive feminine moaning and witnessed his exit with a woman in blue. Winter destroyed the paper, hoping her mother would not notice its absence, for if she read it, she would surely make the connection.
Without considering any of the possible repercussions, Winter immediately left the house and rushed over to Logan’s townhouse. When she arrived, she hurried inside, ready for battle.
She found him casually reading the paper in the dining room. Impeccably dressed in a black coat and buff breeches, he looked nothing like the rake from the night before.
Just looking at his sinful lips made her groin ache with remembered pleasure. She would never be able to look at his mouth the same way again. It was enough to make the color rise in her cheeks. How could she have acted that way? With him? In public? And then in her bedroom?
He’d divested her of her virginity and she’d made no attempt to stop him. Surely she would roast in hell for her sinful ways….
“Good morning, Winter. You’re early for our appointment.” He didn’t look up at her but continued reading.
“This has to stop. Last night, we were nearly discovered. I cannot risk exposure. There would be no reason for me to even try and get the painting back if that happened. The result would be the same.”
“I agree it was risky, but it is hardly worth worrying over now. We weren’t caught. Look—it says ‘unidentified’ woman in blue.”
Winter gritted her teeth, sorely tempted to snatch the paper from his hands and shred it. “No, I cannot allow this to go on. I am going to be ruined when it’s discovered I was with you last night. Look at me ... please. We must end this.”
Finally, he raised his head and looked at her. His expression was far from casual, however. His eyes glittering dangerously, his jaw hard, he said, “The deal stands. We will be more careful in the future. We agreed on two weeks. You have only a week left and it will be over between us.”
Winter sighed, feeling her anger desert her, knowing there was nothing she could do but comply. If she was caught, so be it. Either way she risked scandal. It hardly seemed to matter anymore which scandal broke over her head.
In any case, the fact that the ordeal was nearly over swamped her with a multitude of feelings she didn’t understand—and so she pushed them to the back of her mind. He’d cast her into a downward spiral, into sin and carnality. She despaired of escaping whole ... knew the change had already begun and she would never be the same again.
“Since you are here early, we will take advantage of the opportunity.” He lay the paper down on the table and pushed back in his chair. He beckoned her forward. “Come to me.”
Her legs heavy with her apprehension, Winter approached him woodenly, almost afraid of what he would request now. They had leapt far beyond their first, relatively innocent, encounters the night before and she knew instinctively that her ‘lessons’ would become increasingly more difficult for her to deal with. Last night they had reached a turning point in their bargain, and she would never be allowed to go back to innocence.
“I want you to grow accustomed to me ... to my body, my ice princess.” Leaning forward, he shrugged out of his coat and dropped it on the table.
Winter shook her head, stopping before she’d reached him. She could already feel herself responding to him, to the scent that was unmistakably his, subtle and masculine. What hellfire made her want to succumb to him, to feel him inside her once more? She was sore from his sex the night before, yet the way her body trembled and moistened for his entry, one would never know it.
“Someone will come in,” she said weakly.
“No one will disturb us. Come here ... now,” he said, his dark brows and the look he pointed at her gave her no opportunity to escape.
Reluctantly, she moved forward until he caught her and pulled her between his open legs, his hard thighs rubbing suggestively against her own.
“Take off my shirt.” His voice tempted her like warm chocolate, enticingly dark. She knew she shouldn’t enjoy this—it was scandalous. But the thought of seeing his body proved too much for her to resist.
Her lungs couldn’t seem to get enough air suddenly as she knelt down and began unbuttoning his waist coat. She pushed it aside with trembling hands and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Impatient, he helped her, until his torso lay bare for her to feast her eyes on.
His skin was bronzed everywhere, and dark hair coated his wide, heavily muscled chest, narrowing into a thin trail that traveled over his rippled stomach and disappeared beneath his breeches. She was fascinated by the differences in their bodies, by how hard and strong he looked. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Each taste left her wanting more and more, until she feared she would become hopelessly addicted and never be able to let go.
“Touch me,” he said, his voice strangely hoarse.
She didn’t look at his face but ran a cautious fingertip over his chest, tickling through the brisk hair, reveling in the feel of his taut, smooth skin. His muscles jerked at the contact, surprising her.
“More, Winter. I want your hands all over me.”
She knew he was watching her, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She was ashamed at her disgraceful attraction, ashamed of how willing, no eager, she was to do his bidding.
Curious, she spread her palms over him, feeling his solid muscles, rubbing her hands over his hardened, tiny nipples. He grunted with pleasure as she stroked lower, down the line of his stomach. Dampness grew between her legs at her boldness, and she welcomed its strangeness.
Winter stopped at his breeches, knowing where the trail went, curiosity burning away the last of her reservations.
“Go on,” he said huskily.
She worked at the fastening until she’d opened it. His heavy erection fell forward from the depths, rigid, veins swollen along its surface.
The sheer size of him frightened her as much as it increased her sexual appetite. She couldn’t imagine how he had ever fit inside her, when just his two fingers stretched her tight passage to near pain. Just remembering how he’d managed it made her blush.
“I know you liked feeling my cock inside you last night,” he whispered, watching her with dark, heavy lidded eyes.
“Touch it ... touch my cock.” His crude name for it made her nipples pebble painfully. She grew wet thinking of him claiming her with his rod, despite her fear of pain.
Emboldened, she wrapped her hand around it, her fingertips just missed touching by an inch. She was surprised at its heat and velvet smoothness. Silken steel, she thought, intrigued.
“Ah, that feels so good, princess.” He shifted his hips, pushing forward for her easier access as she stroked her hand over his length.
“Take me in your mouth, Winter.”
Winter hesitated, staring at the swollen member in her hand. No lady would do such a thing, would ever consider it, and yet she wanted to do so again. In truth, she wanted much more than that. She wanted to take him into her other mouth. Her throat went dry at the thought.
At her hesitation, he said, “Please.”
It was all she needed to propel her into action. Let him be the one to beg now, she thought, a sense of power engulfing her.
She bent her head and tentatively wrapped her lips around the head of his shaft, licking off the clear bead of moisture glistening on its tip before the thought occurred to her not to.