She looked down, realized the sun shining brightly through the open door made the homespun linen chemise transparent much to Devin’s satisfaction. His lips curled into a sexy, sinful temptation, provoking her desire to view his nakedness. Boldly, she allowed her gaze to travel to the distinct outline at his groin. The thick bulge reached up his abdomen at a sharp angle, the darkened flesh visible through the unlaced fly. It grew to even greater proportions as he continued to devour her with his eyes.
As though he couldn’t bear another second of her being scantily covered, he ordered in a tone strangled with desire, “Finish undressing.”
Without hesitation, too caught up in her own wanton need, the fierce throbbing between her legs sending her mind reeling, she did as ordered, drawing the thin garment over her head. She tossed it aside and kicked the dress from around her feet.
Every nerve ending awakened, her entire body trembled with growing sexual excitement and nervousness. She stood in front of him wearing only her pantalets and stockings, arms by her sides. She felt the warmth of the sun from the open door heating her bare breasts and couldn’t help but wonder if the sight of her small, underdeveloped body pleased him.
Her fingers hooked on her waistband and she wiggled out of her pantalets, already soaked with her arousal. Kicked off her slippers, she tossed the final garment aside and stood naked except for her stockings, awaiting his next request.
“Remove your stockings.”
Bending forward slightly, her hands clasped her thighs to slide off the stockings.
“No.”
Immediately, she stilled at the gruff, strained order.
“Put one foot on the chair,” he ordered.
A surging rush of pleasure rippled through her body as his intent became clear. She placed her right foot on the seat of the chair, giving him an clear view of her wide, bared pussy as it throbbed and glistened with her desire. The action made her feel wickedly seductive, downright brazen. She eased the stocking slowly off her leg with one hand, conscious of where his gaze was riveted.
Aware his eyes never left sight of the swollen, tender flesh between her legs, she moved to the other side of the chair. Her excitement grew. Angling her leg wide, she revealed what she knew he wanted to see, to touch, to taste, to possess. A soft sigh escaped as she lost the struggle to contain the gush of hot, sticky liquid seeping from her aching cunt. She took her time pulling away the final stocking.
“Lie down on the table.” His voice was thick and rough, sultry.
Her body trembled with anticipation, entranced by the sexual heat enveloping her. She did what he asked. Her back lengthwise, on the smooth, well-worn oak, she waited, wondering when and where he would touch her first. What he would do to her? She lay perfectly still, submitting to her own meekness.
Chapter 16
“Show me.” His tone was rough with lust, aroused by her stark obedience, eagerness to please him. A dark part of him wanted her to resist, challenge him to tell him no. Only then would he fulfill his depraved desire to completely dominate her, to force her into submission.
Her eyes searched his for an explanation.
“Show me how he touched you. I want to know, to understand.”
It was downright wrong, cruel to ask. Strangely, he had to know everything she shared with Pretty Boy. Whatever occurred between her and his father was their business. He didn’t even want to think about it.
Thoughts of the other man tortured him.
Devin needed to know if he possessed a hold on her heart with the undeniable command of a youthful first love that one never forgets. Or was it infused by a more mature desire, brought on by a man and woman in the throes of ecstasy? Or was it what he desperately wanted to believe she was, a woman with flagrant sensuality, a need imbedded at birth infused in her blood to be awakened at a young age, and luckily for Pretty Boy, he was the recipient of her budding passion and nothing more?
He resented the unfamiliar stab of jealousy raging through him—not that she wasn’t a virgin, but that she had a past outside of marriage at such a tender age. If he had known of her when he passed through town eight years ago, he would have stayed when his father asked him.
Back then, she would have been a girl of fourteen or fifteen, and he the leader of the notorious Laredo Gang at twenty-one. Waiting for her to grow up, to develop into a woman capable of meeting his needs, would have been pure agony.
Then, he remembered Pretty Boy, a young kid himself, the first to sample such delights. Fortunate bastard. Devin might still kill him just for beating him to the punch.
Alongside the table, his gaze swept over every detail. In a month’s passing, she’d blossomed and now filled out the widow’s weeds she wore. He speculated the unending stress of caring for his invalid father no longer kept her up nights, freed her days to care for herself. The supplies and food he’d purchased assisted in the beguiling changes within her. Her delicate, oval face glowed, her cheeks were no longer sunken, nor were her eyes, filled with dark shadows. Their glistening hazel depths could not be hidden behind her long, thick lashes. Her perfect lips curled upwards at the corners, as though waiting for any excuse for a smile to grace her expression. Even her dimples were more prominent.
When he came upon her floating in the river, she’d been straight as a pine tree, bony as a carcass drying out in the desert. Though still quite frail in comparison to most females to which accustomed, she now had the curves of a woman. Gone were the cone-shaped breasts, replaced with softly rounded breasts, the peaks hard little pebbles begging for his touch, and her waist, still tiny, now curved gently into rounded hips.
He witnessed the shivers of excitement wash over her body, heard her soft, rasping breathing. Blood rushed to this groin, and quite impossibly, he grew yet another painful inch as his heated gaze beheld the only glimpse of heaven a devil of his breeding would ever know, the sparse curls covering the pouting folds of feminine temptation that drove men mad with desire.
Before him was a real woman, despite her miniature stature, well aware of the ingrained lustful desires that reddened her blood and the pure, unadulterated sensuality that radiated from her pores. Her innate sexual nature knew no bounds in spite of the attempt to conform her to societal standards.
A noticeable shudder shook her dainty frame as he took her hand in his, and with the other, encouraged her to part her outstretched legs. He guided her hand to the dark blond fuzz nestled between her slender thighs and whispered in a ragged breath, “Show me how he touched you.”
He thought he would go mad, lose control when a single finger disappeared between her glistening lips, withdrew completely, and sank back again.
In silence for what seemed like an eternity, he watched her legs part wider, her breathing increase, yet the pumping momentum remained the same.
Unable to take anymore, he murmured raggedly, “What else did he do?”
For a moment, she paused before her left hand covered her breast and gently caressed the creamy mound as her fingers rolled over the puckered nipple.
“What else? What else did he do?”
Eyes completely glazed, her mouth opened slightly as if to speak. A soft moan escaped.
Her hard breathing was proof she was taking pleasure in her touch as she had in the river the day they first met. Today, he felt as he did that day, on the other side of madness, the threat of losing control immense. He understood why Pretty Boy preferred death to life without ever sampling such potent, exquisite sensuality.
Finally, she spoke without stopping the enchanting caresses. “He would touch himself.”
He held her gaze. The look in her eyes was that of a woman seeking pleasure. She was his for the taking, offering her nakedness to him, and he was rock-hard, about to go mad with wanting her.
“Sometimes, he would let me touch him,” she continued in a tone that spoke volumes, her gaze filled with sinful intent.
Within moments, he stripped out of his clothes, sent them flying in every direct
ion with the speed and agility of one whose very life depended on precise, subhuman actions.
Unconcerned that the doorway at his back was open, he was comfortable in his own skin, with his own primal sexuality. A shameless gasp escaped her lips as her gaze dropped to that part of him that stood out and beckoned her, bursting to possess her. Anxious or afraid, she bit her lip and clamped her thighs together, capturing her right hand between her legs. He loved how the sight of him affected her.
“Give me your hand.”
She hesitated. Her body shuddered with what he hoped was excitement. Finally, after a long pause, she offered the hand on her breast, the one farthest from him.
In complete wonderment, he chuckled inwardly at her innocence. For a widow who began her sexual foray at a tender age and grew up in brothel, she was the most inexperienced “experienced” woman he knew.
“The other hand.”
Their eyes locked when he grasped her raised hand. He sucked the finger, slick with her juices, into his mouth. He tasted her essence, swirling his tongue around and around until she whimpered. She watched him draw each finger into his mouth, wetting them sufficiently for what he had in mind.
His body stiffened as he lowered her hand to this cock. He groaned, fought to control his release, his primitive need for possession as her moist, slender fingers inflamed him with her heated touch. Steadily, he guided his hand over hers to demonstrate exactly what he wanted her to do.
As if recalling what he liked, her hand began to move of its own accord. She stroked up and down the thick shaft in a tight-fisted grip. He groaned, closed his eyes at the sensations that jutted from his groin to the far corners of his body.
“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop until I tell you.” Devin’s hips started to thrust as Megan stroked faster and harder, the heat flared stronger and stronger.
His hands cupped both breasts, his tongue glided over the rigid, pointed nipples. He suckled one nipple, then the other into his mouth as she moaned with pleasure, her body arching against his mouth. She was divine, pure heavenly sweetness. His body ached with an insatiable need to devour the firm, ripe flesh. Every part of her luscious body spread out on the table before him, like a feast for him alone to dine on, to satiate the ferocious hunger within.
Her small hand, only able to go halfway around the wide girth, pumped feverishly, stroking the sensitive ridge along the underside, bringing him perilously close. He groaned against her breast, nipping the tight bud between his teeth.
He heard her cry out as the piercing sensation slammed through her system, knew she was racked with arousal so hot, her skin burned and glistened with beads of passion. That extra bite of pain with her pleasure brought her to a brink of discovery, urged him to progress further. His grip on her nipples tightened, twisting lightly as the tip of his tongue licked the hard, tiny pebbles. She whimpered. Her body shuddered, pushing against his hands and mouth. He smiled on the inside, cock excitedly throbbing in her grasp on the outside.
He wanted more. His hand descended lower.
Her hips jerked in response as his fingers probed the hot wetness between her thighs. With a knowing touch, his thumb stroked her engorged clit, and she exploded instantly, sending her screaming, buckling on the table. Her grip on his cock tightened, squeezing him hard, causing him to grunt with approval.
Without shame and full of egotistical male pride, he asked the one question to which he already knew the answer.
“Did he ever touch you like that?” His longest finger penetrated the entrance to her silken depths, pushed past the slick muscles of her tight vagina causing her to gasp sharply. He sucked, nipped, and kissed the sensitive tendon along the smooth curve of her throat.
“Oh, God, no,” she barely managed to breathe.
“Again?”
“Yes…yes…again.”
His hunger increased as she spread her legs wider, allowed him complete access to her hot, dripping pussy. She rocked her hips against his hand, encouraged him to thrust deeper as he slowly worked his finger inside the wet heat of her tight passage. He heard her moaning. His gaze remained transfixed between her gyrating hips as he eased deeper, faster into her throbbing wetness.
Propelled by a lust-filled urgency, he added another finger, preparing her for what was to come, working the double thickness deeper in her slick flesh as her muscles clenched around him. His cock was thicker than her slender forearm, its head bigger than her fist. He needed to get at least three fingers within her tight, tiny passage before attempting the impossible.
He felt her slim arms clutch the edge of the table, releasing her stronghold on his erection. Her hips arched, she cried out at the unexpected invasion, yet her pussy was accepting the intruder greedily, the spongy, moist flesh opening for him. One hand tightened on her nipples while his fingers drove into her heated passage. Instinctively, she pulled her thighs together, moaned and panted with pleasure.
“You stopped.” He wasn’t too disappointed. Her grip was too rough and fast—just the way he liked it, a problem, considering how close she brought him.
“I’m sorry,” she panted.
“Don’t be. There’s plenty of time for that later. For now, concentrate on what I’m doing. How it feels.”
“How can I not?”
He chuckled.
Expertly, he alternated between thrusts and strokes, curls and twists with the expertise of one trained on how to give pleasure at a very early age from those who knew—women. Tutelage from the most beautiful, gifted women at the most expensive parlor houses lasted several years until his size began to overwhelm them, and his desire sometimes crossed the delicate balance between pain and pleasure. Thus, he took to paying for his encounters.
This time, it was Megan he was pleasing, not some whore he cared nothing about. He had to make it good. Make her want him next time.
His lips covered hers with swift urgency, bestowing the agonizing need coursing through his veins. Astonishingly, she accepted his tongue as it darted between her lips, greedily suckling the taste of him until he moaned with satisfaction.
He resumed caressing her breasts, massaging her aching nipples as he enticed her, coaxing her slick pussy into submission. He applied pressure on the swollen nub beneath his thumb and brought her to a rapid climax. She bucked on the table and cried out his name, giving him a sense of satisfaction he had no right to feel once again as the second outburst overtook her, drenching his embedded fingers.
Quickly, he built a third climax out of an irrational sense of rivalry, driven by the need to possess her mind, body, heart and soul.
There was only one way to do that.
Megan moaned harshly and went entirely rigid when he pushed a third finger past the tight barrier. He didn’t give her a moment to adjust. The triple thickness drove in and out furiously while his thumb stroked her arousal to a new level of intensity. The sudden explosion had her twisting on the table, her keen wail filling the house, traveling outside and rising in the heat of the sun.
His hands hooked beneath her knees, positioned her across the table so her bottom was just past the edge. He leaned down, spread her dripping nether lips wide and inhaled her scent, like the petals of a beautiful rose opened, fragrant and inviting to touch.
Keeping his tongue rigid, he swept over the moist flesh top to bottom, tasting the sweet cream of her pleasure. After a quick intake of breath, he heard her follow it with a long gasp as he flicked her clitoris and caressed the entrance to her body with his tongue.
“Oh, yes,” she whimpered, and he knew she was his. Megan was finally his.
He moved between her legs as they dangled boneless off the table, brushed tender kisses along her jaw line as he whispered, “You’re mine, Megan. I’ll erase every memory of every man who ever touched you. After today, you’ll desire only me.”
Her hands clasped his face, pulled him down, and she claimed him with her mouth in a fierce, passionate kiss that assailed his senses. The heady scent of her des
ire filled his nostrils. Felt the warmth of her breath on his cheek.
His lips and tongue mingled with hers in an erotic dance, music all their own that neither wanted to end. She sucked his tongue into her mouth. Her lips were warm and soft. He could taste her frenzied need, her lustful desire. Knew she was ready when he took hold of his cock and positioned it at the entrance of the slick hotness between her thighs and she arched her hips, accepting him.
“It’s time,” he said roughly, staring into her glazed eyes so dark, they were almost black.
The tip of his cock pulsed against her throbbing core, and he fought the urge to plunge himself deep inside her wet, hot tender flesh.
“Yes.” She shifted her hips in expectation, not knowing the true extent of what her dainty body asked. His desperate need to tear into her, damn the consequences, as he took what he wanted assailed his senses. He needed control, to think of her.
She panted, “Oh, yes.”
“Megan,” he groaned. “I won’t lie to you. It’s going to hurt like hell. It’ll pass. Then, you’ll be mine.”
He felt her body tense at his heated proclamation, saw the alarm washing over her.
“Relax, and it’ll go easier. Your sweet pussy is hot and wet for me. I’ve got to have it now.” His voice was deep, ruthless and as desperate as his need to have her.
“Devin, you’re so…so big. You didn’t fit before.” She blinked up at him, the trepidation gleaming in her eyes as he nudged against the tiny opening. “I’m afraid.”
“My fault I didn’t prepare you. You’re ready now, and I can’t wait any longer,” he groaned, heard the lust straining his voice. No longer was holding back an option as her tight vaginal muscles began to stretch, gripping his cock.
“Devin,” she cried, fear shining bright in her eyes as he fought to push the head into searing heat, achingly tight.
He stroked her swollen clit until she panted and arched her hips into his. She trembled like a virgin, her slick velvety muscles dragging almost painfully against his flesh while he inched his way inside. He groaned when the head finally sank past the most blissful, hottest grip imaginable.
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