by Lisa Valdez
Mark rested his hands on her shoulders. “The fountain is new.”
Passion looked at it, and a slow smile turned her lips. “Is it Aphrodite?”
He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Who else?” His arms came around her, and he pulled her close. “It isn’t running yet, but it will soon.”
She leaned against him. “Your home is beautiful, Mark. Just beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he breathed into her neck.
Passion shivered and then sighed as his hands lifted to cup and squeeze her breasts.
He turned her in his arms and began to unbutton her bodice. “As much as I admire you in this gown, I think I’d like to see a little more of you.”
Passion’s heart beat faster, and she helped him by loosening her skirt and crinoline while he made quick work of her corset cover.
His eyes roamed over her, and Passion trembled beneath the sudden intensity of his gaze.
“Don’t move,” he said as he stepped to his desk.
Passion’s eyes widened as he picked up a pair of scissors. She watched, frozen, as he cut into her drawers and then ripped the fabric off her.
Nostrils flaring, he cut away the fabric of her chemise that showed above her corset, baring the high mounds of her breasts.
Passion’s heart pounded and her cunt throbbed as a sensual vulnerability came over her. She was alone with Mark, in his house. She trusted him, but she was also completely at his mercy.
“That’s better.” He tossed the scissors on the desk and removed his robe as he went to stand beside his bed.
When he turned. Passion felt herself moisten at the sight of his huge erection bulging beneath his close-fitting trousers.
“Lift your breasts higher,” he said huskily. “I want to see your nipples.”
Passion blushed but did as he said. Her nipples hardened and swelled at the light touch of her own hand and, between her legs, her clitoris pulsed anxiously.
“Take your hair down,” he said softly.
Passion lifted her arms and carefully removed all the pins from her hair. It fell, finally, in a heavy coil down her back.
He held out his hand. “Give the pins to me.”
His eyes never left her as she walked to him. Her low-heeled boots were silent against the thick carpet beneath her feet.
She looked at his large hand as she turned over her pins. He had strong, capable hands. Hands she gave herself over to completely.
He put the pins in a box on the bedside table and then circled slowly behind her.
Passion held her breath. Gooseflesh rose on her skin as he stroked his fingers across her shoulder blades. His hands moved down and rested around her waist. She heard his breathing quicken.
“I like you this way.” His fingers pressed against her. “The curve of your waist draws me.” He trailed his hand across her bottom and softly stroked the folds of her cunt from behind.
Her back arched, tilting her bottom.
“That’s nice.” His fingers touched more of her. “God, you’re wet with wanting,” he said as he slid two fingers inside her.
She arched more and reached back to curve her hand around his nape.
“I think my cock is in love with you,” he murmured into her neck.
Passion shivered as he slipped another finger inside her. “Is it?” she whispered.
He pressed his hips fully against her, and she felt the hard, stiff length of him against her buttocks. Her cunt clenched hungrily as her other hand slipped back to hold him to her.
He stroked her breast. “Whenever you enter the room, it stands at attention.” He pinched and rolled her nipple, encouraging it to swell even more as he plunged his fingers deeper into her cunt. “It’s completely slovenly and lackadaisical the rest of the time.”
Good! Let him be hard only for her.
Passion drew a deep breath as his hand moved from her breast to her clitoris. He knew just how to touch her.
“You’re getting hotter and wetter,” he said near her ear. “You want me now, don’t you?”
She gasped and her knees trembled. “I want you always.”
He paused for the briefest of moments. His fingers slid from her cunt. He walked around in front of her, still stroking her throbbing clit while his other hand squeezed her bottom.
Her hands went to his trousers immediately. She couldn’t get the buttons undone fast enough. But as soon as she was able, she curved both hands around his shaft and stroked the whole heavy length of him.
His eyes were dark and intense as he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her hard and deep, and Passion opened to receive his thrusting tongue. His hand slipped past her clitoris, and his fingers thrust into her quim.
Her hands tightened around his throbbing prick. She wanted him so badly.
Suddenly, he pulled back and crouched in front of her.
She watched, breathless, as he unlaced and removed her boots. The ribbon of her garter shook as a muscle in her thigh trembled.
His hands swept from her ankle to her thigh, smoothing her stocking as he went. He did the same with the other but paused to kiss her thigh as he let his hands wander up the back of her legs.
Passion moaned as he gripped her from behind and slid his fingers along her wet folds. And while he stroked her, his chin tickled the tender skin of her inner thigh as he kissed and licked the moisture from her. And the longer he stayed there, the wetter she became.
Passion shook with tension. Her clit throbbed mercilessly, and she thought she might die from need. Her hands clenched at her sides and then in his hair.
“Please,” she begged.
Slowly, he stood before her, pausing to suck hard upon one of her nipples as he pushed free of his trousers.
Saliva filled her mouth and her quim wept as she saw that the head of his cock was dark red and dripping pre-come.
He saw the direction of her gaze and traced her quivering lower lip. “Are you hungry for it?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes!”
He sat on the side of the bed. “Come then.”
Light-headed with desire, she dropped to her knees and ran her tongue from the base of his prick all the way up to the head. Mark’s hips jerked forward. She stroked him with both hands as she wrapped her lips around the wet head of his prick.
Famished and shaking, she sucked the salty fluid from his swollen knob, running her tongue around the rim and into the weeping duct over and over. And all the while, she drew her hands up his shaft, squeezing more drops into her hungry mouth.
Mark’s hands settled in her hair, and his hips began to thrust. It made her wild with need, and she pushed her lips farther down his shaft, pressing her tongue against the distended passage that brought his come.
He moaned and thrust, inching a little farther into her. Her cunt clenched and released, begging its own fulfillment.
Passion moaned as she sunk deeper. His thighs went rigid around her.
He jerked her from him and, picking her up, tossed her on the bed. Passion gasped as he fairly leapt upon her.
He held her head in his hands as he bruised her lips with a penetrating kiss. She opened her mouth and her legs. Her hips arched.
“This is my house, Passion,” he said against her mouth, “and I say how it goes.”
Her heart pounded with both desire and submission. “I know.”
With a choked oath, he flipped her onto her stomach. She tilted up her hips as she felt the push of his knob against the wet folds of her cunt. His hands settled around her waist, she sucked in her breath, and with one long, hard thrust, he pushed into her.
Passion exhaled on a deep moan as she stretched around him. Her cunt pulsed ecstatically at finally being filled.
Each and every time he entered her was heaven, but today she felt fuller and more vulnerable than ever. Her clit throbbed, and her hips tilted.
“Yes, Passion,” he murmured. “That’s it, my sweet.” He lifted her hips. “That’s
it.”
She gasped as he rocked forward, pressing against her womb with more direct pressure than he ever had before. A hot rush of moisture flooded her at the exquisite sensation.
When he drew back, she moaned for the loss. “No, don’t stop,” she breathed. He had found the deep pocket in her cunt three times since that first night in her room, and each time he had done it on the tide of her orgasm. Today, she wanted the experience undiluted. She wanted Mark undiluted. “Please…”
He shuddered behind her but didn’t move. “I may not be able to stop once I start.” His voice was tight. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Take me now.” she entreated softly. “I want to feel all of you—every inch of you inside me.”
His hands gripped her tightly corseted waist. He took a deep breath.
Passion closed her eyes and released a sigh.
He withdrew slowly and then thrust hard into her, bringing a cry from her parted lips. His hold on her waist was so firm that her body bowed to the full force of his strength.
He didn’t pause, but thrust again. Passion gasped. The reverberation inside her was so deep and strong that she shook and softened with its power.
He withdrew only once more before delivering a final and demanding thrust against the door to her womb.
She must submit. No more doubts. No more resistance. She belonged to him.
And then he was pushing and pushing, bearing down upon her hard and with direct pressure. “Open,” he gasped. “Open for me, Passion.”
Her back arched, and she gave her body to his command. He took what she offered and pressed the full weight of his body upon her. “Good,” he grunted. “That’s good.”
Passion shuddered and panted. Her cunt clenched, and her clit throbbed.
“Oh, God,” he growled. “It’s going, it’s going.”
Passion gasped then bit back a cry as the pressure built and built.
Mark groaned behind her.
Her hands clutched at the coverlet. She felt like she was breaking, and yet the sensation was exquisite. As the pressure built, so did her fullness. Her body was opening and her cunt was stretching. And just when she thought she might split in two, something inside her gave. The pressure eased. She cried out as he filled her with all he had.
She moaned and panted and felt him throb inside her. Her heart pounded. This was what she was meant for. This was where she belonged.
“Oh, God! You must always give yourself like this,” he rasped, his hands clenching on her waist. “Don’t resist me, and I can fill you like this every time.” He rocked against her. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She sucked in her breath as the tip of his cock touched her somewhere high in her body. “Yes,” she panted. Let him breach her forever and always!
He drew back, and suddenly the pressure grew again as she felt his swollen knob pulling back down over the firm opening of her tilted womb.
She whimpered and shook. Her cunt clenched fiercely.
He stayed there, neither withdrawing fully nor entering fully, but thrusting between that tight, trembling spot.
“Feel that,” he gasped. “Feel how good it is. Don’t come. Just feel it.”
Passion couldn’t move as she endured the torturous pleasure he inflicted upon her. Though she was dying for release, she held it at bay. And as he kept thrusting and thrusting, the pressure seemed to grow. She whimpered again.
“That’s good,” he panted. “That’s good. God, I’m getting bigger.”
He surged inside her, the pressure eased, her cunt stretched. She groaned, and perspiration broke on her brow as she felt the head of his cock press firmly against some unknown organ of her body.
“Oh, God,” he moaned. He rocked against her, nudging it gently.
Passion sobbed and pushed against the headboard, helping him plumb her depths. Her body began to shake uncontrollably.
Grabbing her waist with a low grunt, Mark began to thrust wildly.
Passion cried out. She gasped for air. With each powerful thrust, he pulled back enough to rub against the firm flesh of her cervix before driving in to touch the unresisting organ of her body. And with each thrust, his heavy cods spanked the stretched and swollen lips of her cunt.
Her heart pounded and her head swam. Everything she was or had been coalesced between her legs.
Her cunt clenched and sucked his magnificent cock with the fervor of a starving supplicant. Her clit throbbed and pulsed, pulling the blood from her heart into its tender bud.
And still he drove her on, unrelenting in his determination to bring her bliss. She need only submit. Her back eased and arched even more. Her vision narrowed to a single point of clarity.
She need only surrender.
With a fierce, unrestrained cry, she let every inhibition of thought and emotion fall away from her. Her heart filled with the love for him she had refused to acknowledge. Her cunt pulled and clasped around him. Her clit pounded exuberantly. And as he moaned above her and poured hot rivers of seed into her body, she burst into a thousand scintillating sparks of ecstasy and joy.
Spurred by love, her release went on and on. She still shivered and clenched around him long after he had collapsed upon her.
He pressed soft, moist kisses along her shoulder, and she reveled in the tender touch of his lips. Would that she could stay with him forever.
Forever…
“I have a gift for you,” he murmured.
Her heart fluttered. “You are my gift.”
He smoothed her hair back from her brow and kissed the corner of her mouth. “And you’re mine.”
She moaned softly as he withdrew from her. He passed a soft caress over her bottom before he levered himself from the bed.
Turning onto her elbow, she watched him as he crossed the room. She loved his large, tall form. She loved his confident stride.
She loved him.
When had it happened? It wasn’t new. She knew that now. It had called to her at the pavilion. It had beckoned her the night he first came to her room.
He returned to her with a picnic basket and a black box tied with burgundy satin ribbon. He paused to look at her. “I love to see you in my bed. When you’re there, you’re mine.”
If he only knew. “I’m yours wherever I am.”
His eyes held her for a moment and then he sat beside her. She pushed herself to a sitting position, and he placed the box in her lap.
“For you,” he said quietly.
Passion’s chest tightened. She stroked the black moiré that encased the box and ran the burgundy satin ribbon between her fingers.
“I’ve never bought a gift for a woman before,” he said, his voice rough. “But this, this seemed like it ought to be yours.”
She lowered her face to hide the tears that threatened. Carefully, she loosened the wide ribbon and lifted the lid. Black tissue paper hid the contents. She folded it back and revealed swirling paisleys in red, green, blue, and black on a golden ground. Lifting it reverently, she pulled out a full-length cashmere shawl. Its beauty and quality was fit for the queen, who was said to have several.
Her tears spilled as she admired it. But far more wonderful than that, he had chosen it for her, and it was perfect.
She drew it around her shoulders and dared to lift her eyes to his. “Thank you, Mark. I love it.”
He kissed her softly. “For that reaction, I would have bought you a hundred.”
And then she knew. Love had whispered to her the first day they met.
Mark let his hand wander over Passion’s knee.
“I do wish you would try to be still.” Passion smiled at him and yanked the sheet back over her crossed legs.
They had eaten from the picnic basket and were sitting, naked, on his bed.
She was trying to draw his profile. Her shawl was draped around her shoulders, but he couldn’t keep himself from stroking her thigh and lightly touching the soft folds of her cunt beneath the l
inens.
“I’m keeping my head completely still,” he said.
Her smile deepened. “If you want this to be any good, you won’t distract me.”
He sighed and took a sip of wine.
“You reminded me of the impatient Sunday school children I’ve drawn. Why don’t you tell me a story,” she suggested.
“A story?”
“Mm-hmm. Something about your youth, perhaps.”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t have any stories about my youth.”
She glanced at him. Her gaze was so tender. “Anything then,” she said.
He met her eyes over the top of her sketchbook. “When I was at Oxford, I held the record for the biggest penis.”
Passion laughed. She reached out and turned him back to profile. “I had no idea such lofty credentials could be earned at Oxford.”
“Most people have no idea. I also held the record for the most volume of ejaculate. I can fill a shot glass.”
Passion lowered the sketchbook, her eyes disbelieving. “You’re teasing, aren’t you? There aren’t really such competitions.”
He looked at her benignly and pushed the sketchbook up for her to keep working. “Actually, Matt and I held that record together. As for distance covered by ejaculate, that record belonged to Sir Peter Wells. He had the smallest penis, but his come could really fly.” Mark shrugged. “Matt and I couldn’t figure it. We finally determined that our sperm was just too weighty to make the distance Wells’ could.”
Passion dropped the sketchbook into her lap. “I cannot believe this is what goes on at Oxford. I cannot believe that young men go about partaking in these sorts of contests.”
“We did some studying as well.”
Passion rolled her eyes. “Oh, well that’s good.”
“What, you’ve never done anything the least little bit outrageous—before me, that is?”
Passion’s cheeks flushed pink.
“Aha!” Mark turned and leaned on his elbow. “You tell me a story. And make it a good one.”
Passion’s blush deepened. “In the summertime, my sisters and I used to bathe in a small lake near our home. We’d leave our clothes on the bank and swim in our chemises.”
Mark’s brows lifted. “Really?”
Passion grinned. “Yes. really. Now do you want to hear or not?”