Catherine Gayle: Leg-Shackled

“ Too tight?” he asked, dipping a single finger into her very tight sheath, a chuckle on his lips over his own double entendre.

“ No,” she moaned.

He’d never seen her this way before-so wanton and needy, just as he always was. Perhaps she had always wished for this sort of variety, without ever being aware of it. If this ended the way he was imagining it, Lodge would definitely be finding a way to thank Holbrook, however odd it felt to think such a thing.

After a moment, he withdrew and added a second finger, stretching her for his coming invasion. Audrey stopped playing with her breasts and propped herself up on her elbows, watching in the fading sunlight. He took up a fucking rhythm, thrusting his hand against her and inside her, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her button as she stared down at their join.

When high-pitched little squeaks came from her mouth, he nearly lost control. Lodge gripped her by both thighs, lifted her slightly off the bed, and pressed his cock inside, moving forward until he was completely buried.

As soon as he resumed his pace, driving his tool into her like a man possessed, she splintered around him with a silent scream-an orgasm far more intense than he’d ever witnessed before. Her head rolled back and hit the mattress, and her sheath shuddered in waves, and still he plunged into her time and again.

Several moments later, she roused herself and pushed up off the bed until they were chest to chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and rubbing her breasts more fully against him with each thrust. The changed angle was almost more than he could take. Audrey delved her tongue into his mouth, matching his movements even as her hands slipped lower, running sensuously over his arse. When she squeezed at the join of his arse and thighs, he lost himself, grunting loudly as he pumped his stuff into her womb.

Audrey sank back down to the bed, more fully sated than she’d ever imagined possible, her legs still stretched obscenely wide, her husband’s shaft still deep in her body.

Who knew lovemaking could be like this?

A few minutes later, Lodge’s breathing returned to normal and he separated himself from her. Moving to the bed, he lifted her up enough to slide behind her and leaned her against his chest. “Did you enjoy your first foray into being more adventuresome?” He pressed a hot kiss against the side of her neck and smoothed his hands over her body, rubbing against her straining thighs.

Already, a hum of excitement coursed through her again. Audrey squirmed against him slightly, hoping to urge his hands to her sex. “Yes,” she moaned when he pressed his fingers inside her with one hand, just where she wanted them. His other hand moved to caress her breasts, glistening from their bed play in the rich pink and golden hues of the setting sun.

“ So,” he murmured against her ear as he flicked her button with his thumb, “do you wish me to continue my instruction? Or have you had enough for one day?”

Enough? She might never get enough again, in all her life, with the way he was so easily able to make her body sing beneath his attentions. “Continue teaching me, please.”

“ No more missish shyness, then,” he said. He pinched her nubbin gently between his fingers and she would have shot off the bed, if not for his arms holding her in place-not to mention the cravats keeping her legs bound to the bed. “I plan to keep you leg-shackled like this for quite some time-until you beg me for mercy. And then I might release you and use the ties on your arms instead.”

Leg-shackled. Audrey chuckled. She’d always thought the phrase rather unusual and obscure, but it took on a new meaning at the moment. “You promise you don’t find me squeamish? Not a prude?”

Lodge rolled his thumb over her center and she let out a ragged whimper.

“ Not a prude in the least, my love. Now I’d say you’re more of a vixen.”

They made love twice more early that evening before sending their regrets down to the other house guests, saying they wouldn’t make it down for supper. They were too busy in other pursuits, after all, to attempt to be polite company.