Frenzy stormed him. He stroked himself harder and faster, bruising his flesh. His throat ached as he restrained his moans of passion, the desperate longing to bury inside her unbelievable now. She jerked against her fingers, crying out, sending him over the edge. His cocked throbbed, seed erupting from its tip to spew on the wall before him. He continued to pump until the life drained from him and his shaft grew flaccid in his palm.
Shuddering, muscles jerking with tension, he enclosed his aching flesh back in his cod piece and watched as she weakly moved from the bed and into a waiting tub. Mists of steam rose as she broke the water’s surface.
She was so close to him now. If he took but two steps, he would be upon her. She leaned her head back on the tub’s edge, closing her eyes, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, across her chest before resting them on the edge as well.
Already life stirred in his groin to see her laying there, vulnerable, near naked and wet. She would be slick, ready for his cock even as he readied for her. His own hand was no appeasement for his appetites—never had it been, and never would it satisfy, not as long as she lived. There was but one way to satisfy his desire, and by God, he would satiate his taste for the woman. Now.
For too long she had tormented him, for eons it seemed, beguiled him with her mystery. He would know the taste of her woman’s flesh, the feel of her breasts in his palms, the sight of her hair unbound.
Bronson unlocked the door, easing it open. She did not stir as he passed into the room and closed the door gently behind him. She appeared to almost be asleep, her toying having sated her to exhaustion.
Bronson was in no way satisfied. Without sound, he strode to the tub, standing over her, willing her to open her eyes and look up at him. Slowly, she did, her eyes widening with horror.
She shrieked and covered her chest, sloshing water over the sides of the tub. “How did you get in here?” she demanded, looking frantically back at the door.
“I have my ways,” he said gruffly, heat suffusing him at the wild look in her eyes, the soft parting of her lips. His cock swelled, his cod piece growing unbearably tight. Throwing away caution and care, Bronson bent and grasped her shirt, ripping the neckline open to her navel.
Alex screamed and ducked down into the water.
Bronson caught her arms, hauling her up until he could lay eyes on the binding across her breasts. “What is this?” he demanded, giving her a hard look, wondering if she would divulge her secrets now that she’d been exposed. He’d gone beyond the point of caring if she did or not. He knew she would never trust him, for he did not deserve her trust, in any form.
Alex gaped, clawing at his arms for release. “A wound, nothing more, my lord,” she gasped, her feet slipping in the tub as she fought for purchase.
“I would see this wound,” he said low, pulling her to her feet. “Strip the binding, Alex. I want to know that you’ve not come to great harm in my household.”
Alex straightened her shoulders, the fingers of one hand going to the binding. She looked at him a long moment, as if stunned at her predicament. He recognized the look in her eye, knew just before she moved that she would bolt. She whirled around, running, her soaked feet slipping on the wet floor.
Bronson caught her before she could fall and do herself injury, propelling them both onto the bed. She yelled as he came down on her, bucking, scrabbling for freedom on her backside and elbows. She glared up at him, the fire in her eyes burning him alive. His groin felt near to bursting having her beneath him, struggling against desire.
Bronson straddled her waist, pinning her elbows down with his knees. She cursed him, panting and collapsing back as she realized the futility of her continued fighting. Her eyes widened as he withdrew a slim dagger from a sheath at his waist, angling it toward the binding on her chest. She jerked involuntarily as he sliced the linen away, working through the layers until he could reasonably grasp the edges and not worry on hurting her.
Slipping the dagger back in place, he took hold of each cut edge and pulled, ripping the binding and freeing her breasts. Alex gasped in outrage, struggling, her breasts bouncing free of their confinement. Bronson watched them in a daze, his salivary glands tightening. Her small breasts plumped up like soft rounded pillows, the pale flesh red from her constriction, her blushing pink nipples engorged and standing at attention.
Bronson swallowed, struggling through the lust laden cloud fogging his gaze. His voice hoarse from want, he said, “What is this, Alex? I see no wound here, but find woman’s flesh instead. Do mine eyes deceive me?”
She was watching him steadily when he chanced to look back on her face. Her eyes were wide with fright and something else, and she seemed to hold her breath with expectation. She sucked at her bottom lip as though trying to work moisture into her mouth, but she did not speak, did not dare try to stop him.
God help him, he could not turn back now.
“Have you deceived me all this time, or am I struck with accursed vision for my sins of the flesh?” he asked hoarsely, unable to tear his eyes away from hers as he slid off her waist and backed down her hips. She held still, waiting to see what he would do.
“I am damned, for I cannot help but doubt. I wouldst have more proof, if err mine eyes,” he growled, shifting down her thighs onto the bed, grasping her knees as he forced her legs to part.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Fear unlike any she’d ever known before froze Alex to the bed. She could not breathe. She could not think. All she could do was watch as Bronson stripped the soaked binding and exposed her breasts to his view, looking at her chest as though he wished nothing more than to eat her alive. A stillness possessed him a long moment, winding the tension within her, and then he was speaking again, moving.
When he moved down her legs and parted her thighs with rough hands, his fingers slipping on her still wet flesh, exposing her intimate folds to his vision, she thought she would die from the ecstatic pulse of desire that seized her insides at the hot rake of his gaze on her woman’s flesh.
Alex bit her lip to keep from crying out as he held her gaze, dipping his head between her thighs. Her belly jerked on an anticipatory spasm.
Hot breath scorched her flesh, and then his tongue pierced her wet, swollen folds, moving straight to the nub that had so longed for his touch. Alex’s hips jumped off the bed as he stabbed her with the molten tip, flicking it across her to capture the cream lading her nub.
“It seems you are indeed a woman,” he growled into her slit before swathing his tongue down through the heavy honey that saturated her.
Alex gripped the sheets, her skin frigid and wet, but heat suffusing her from the inside out. “Nay, my lord. You cannot!” she breathed, her thighs trembling as he pushed them as far apart as they would go. His hands curled around her buttocks, cupping her as though she were a vessel of ambrosia and his for the taking.
He nuzzled her pubic mound with his nose, fanning his breath across her folds. “I can and will,” he said, his voice rough, thick with lust. “My thirst is great, Alex. I fear only your honeyed sweetness can slake it.
The rough possessive timbre of his voice resonated low in her belly. Alex shook her head, closing her eyes, unable to look at his dark head nestled between her thighs. The sight of him there overcame her, heightening the lust that embraced her, saturating her femininity until she thought it would draw all the moisture from her body.
Bronson tilted her hips up to his lips. She felt the soft brush of his lips on her folds, heard his intake of breath as he inhaled her scent. He held her still when she would squirm, allowing her to know he was in absolute control.
“Look at me, Alex,” he ordered, and she obeyed.
Dark were his eyes, smoldering as though a fire had been lit. He’d seen her secret and still he wanted her, wanted more. A sharp, desperate spasm of lust arched her insides at his dark look. She wanted to close her thighs, protect herself from the heat of his gaze, the molten swipe of his tongue. He was too much, too intense
for her to survive. Looking on him made her womb tremble, that bud throb responding with achy tension.
“Know that you can hide nothing from me, Alex. Not this, not anything. You are mine,” he said, his voice rough, deeper than she’d ever before heard it. It vibrated inside her, echoing in the desire gripping her body.
Before she could prepare, before she could take a breath to utter his name and deny his possession, he dipped his head and plunged his tongue deep in her core. Alex screamed, throwing her head back and grinding her hips up to his face, her sheath gripping his tongue as he curled it inside her, lunging forward, retreating.
His fingers dug into her buttocks, bringing her closer to his face as he ate her flesh, drank the syrup of her body as if he were starving. He devoured her, plunging inside again and again, mimicking the stroke his cock had set inside her anus until she was mindless with the feel of his molten slide in and out of her.
He lapped her, nibbling her folds with his lips, her juices making wet sounds that should have embarrassed her, but his greed for her honey allowed none to escape, and allowed her no chance to think beyond the pleasure racing inside her veins. He burrowed deep inside her, grinding his chin against the narrow strip between her entrances, rubbing his nose against the swollen bud.
He would smother, would eat her alive. His breath was ragged against her, fanning the desire burgeoning through her core.
He pulled out suddenly, panting as if from exertion. Alex whimpered, opening her eyes to see him watching her.
Knelt between her splayed legs, he removed his tunic and shirt, leisurely drawing them over his head. Each inch of flesh exposed by his movement sent sharp shafts of desire coursing through her. His skin was naturally dark, almost bronze, the muscles of his stomach jerked with his heaving breath, making her own lungs labor for air.
He threw the garments down, dropping his arms to his sides, his hands clenching, so near his cod piece, she wanted to scream from the anticipation. He’d left her on the edge, and she would die if he did not plunge into her and quench the burn of her loins.
He backed off the bed, standing. Alex made a small, disappointed noise, sitting up on her elbows. His lips curled in a slow, wicked smile, barely traceable, the slightest change in his expression that told her he enjoyed her torment and would prolong it as long as he wished. Alex shifted on the bed, frowning as she chewed her bottom lip, drawing his eyes to her mouth.
His eyes narrowed, studying her, holding her gaze as he untied the lacing holding his cod piece in place. His cock jutted forth, impossibly thick, angrily red and swollen. He bent, blocking her view of it as he removed his hose and boots, and then he stood before her, unadorned save for his own masculine beauty.
Her breath caught in her throat to look on him, to see his eyes blaze like the hottest fire, a sapphire flame that singed her flesh and burned away her reservations. His black hair clung damply to his face and neck, and she itched to run her fingers through it, to have the hair matting his chest caress her breasts and belly. And that steely rod … what would it feel like in her most intimate core, rending, ramming, leaving nothing untouched…?
“You devour me, sweet Alex,” he growled softly, advancing on her, crawling onto the bed toward her. Sensual menace oozed from his pores, dripped from his voice. He advanced on her with the leisure of a hunter who’d cornered his prey. “I could find release merely from your eyes.”
Alex swallowed, backing away, her heart fluttering in her chest like a caged animal. “Why do you not,” she whispered, choked with some indefinable emotion. She couldn’t help but to glance down at his shaft, protruding from his groin like a lance seeking a target.
He caught her line of sight and smiled with pure, male satisfaction, crawling between her raised knees. “I have. ‘Twas not near enough to appease me. I watched as you plunged a finger into your sheath. Listened to your moans of pleasure. I vowed I would make you scream for my cock inside you, for my mouth at your breast, my fingers in your slit.”
Alex shuddered, wanting to look away but not daring to close her eyes. “Oh God. You … you saw me?” She blushed, her skin turning crimson with mortification.
“Aye. My hand was little appeasement compared to the beauty of your flesh. Drinking your cream but whet my appetite,” he said, crawling over her, closing her in with his body. He leaned over her on his forearms, his hair hanging down, his eyes unblinking, consuming her.
He bent his elbows, sinking inexorably down until his mouth was inches from her own. Shifting his hips, he rubbed the molten tip of his erection against the top of her pubic mound, letting her feel the weight of him.
“Do you feel how hard I am for you?” he murmured, closing the distance between their mouths in a fiery kiss.
Alex whimpered as he ground his hips against her, up against that white hot center of pleasure that throbbed for want of him. His tongue thrust deep into her mouth, stealing her breath and the essence of her soul in a devouring kiss that threatened to consume her. She suckled his tongue, thrusting off the tattered remains of her soaked shirt from her arms so that she could feel the silk of his skin against her flesh.
He groaned as she wrapped her arms around him, touching his back, her questing fingers discovering he was more gloriously hard and powerful than she’d ever imagined. His muscles flexed with strength beneath her fingers, responding to her touch. His flanks heaved with breath against her arms as he tore from her mouth and dragged his lips across her jaw.
Alex gasped, scored by his teeth, scraped by fledgling beard, his whiskers burning and feeling heavenly rough on her skin.
He lifted suddenly, propping on one arm, laying half atop her as he peeled her mustache away and ripped the wig from her head. Alex startled, her eyes widening with surprise, stunned to see him frowning down at her with brows heavy over his eyes.
“I want you as the woman you are,” he growled, thrusting a hand in her hair to loosen the tight mat it had become. The silky fine tresses sprung to life at his touch, wove through his fingers like wisps of flame.
She felt free, unbound, a wildness soared inside her. His eyes darkened, near black from the shadow of his hair, but no less potent. She shivered, meeting his gaze.
“Somehow, I knew my wildcat would have hair of fire,” he whispered, clutching the side of her head as he kissed her once more.
His mouth was sweeter this time, as if he’d pulled the emotion choking her lungs and bathed her with honey. Alex’s throat tightened, her eyes stinging as he pleasured her mouth, nibbling her lips, her tongue, fueling the bittersweet desire.
The soft side of him stunned her, made her ache in places that should never hurt. Her heart seemed to trip over itself, its pace climbing as he smoothed a trail of kisses down the column of her throat to her breasts. He nuzzled her breasts, dragging his lips over the tender flesh, swiping his tongue across each nipple in turn.
With his free hand, he cupped her, rolling her nipple between his fingers, stoking the blaze consuming her loins. Alex’s whimper of pleasure turned to a cry as he closed his mouth on one bare peak, dragging her flesh into his mouth in a hard, sucking kiss, rubbing his tongue on the delicate nipple until it swelled and hardened in his mouth.
She dug her short nails in his back like talons, crying out as he continued to suckle as though drawing sustenance from her breast. Her back arched, unconsciously thrusting her breasts closer. His lips and teeth, his tongue, were torture, undeniably sweet agony.
“I shall go mad without surcease,” she breathed, risking a hand to clutch his head to her breast. She wanted him to stop, but she couldn’t bear it.
He broke from her flesh, scoring the underside of her breast with his teeth before moving for her other. “As you have driven me mad,” he growled, latching on, sucking near to the point of pain.
Tears squeezed from her eyes. Her vagina clenched in agony. Moisture flooded her, soaking her folds, seeking to cool that branding iron that pressed against her mound that offered no relief.
Alex planted her feet flat on the bed, arching her back, shifting her hips to raise and grind herself on his manroot. His hardness touched her cream laden bud, increasing the swell of it, the pain that gripped her—but what glorious pain it was. His mouth stilled. His body went rigid. His breath suddenly panted from him, chest heaving against her ribs.
“By my troth--do not!” he said hoarsely, closing his eyes.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his arms. Alex bit her lip, lowering her arms until she could reach his buttocks. She grasped them, pulling him against her as she arched her hips, seeking that wondrous place yet again, finding it with his heated rod.
He groaned, long and loud, a mournful sound that erupted from deep inside him. He eased back, breaking her grip, and then she felt the change come over him. His muscles shook with the power of restraint. A great, hard knob pushed against her woman’s sheath, stretching, tearing her, setting her flesh on fire.
Alex whimpered, needing his length inside her, knowing that the pain was what she craved … and she would have it. She moved her hips, forcing him inside her, gasping as the broad head of his cock distended her opening, moving past the fragile entrance. Her muscles seized on him, closing down, desperate to shut him out.
“Oh God,” he panted, burying his face against her neck, shuddering with the effort of control. “I cannot.”
“Please,” she pleaded, dying, pinned to the bed and unable to move as she wanted—needed. She would expire without him. She’d gone too far to stop now. The pain had built inside her until she was near to bursting.
She dug her fingers into his buttocks, urging him to take her. His breathing quickened. She could feel the pound of his heart against her chest.
“Do … not … move,” he groaned harshly. He dropped on her, melding to her, propping his weight on his elbows on either side of her ribcage.
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