Mary Wine - Improper Seduction

His fingers lingered on her nipple, softly pinching it. Sharp enjoyment shot through her, and she shifted away, unable to remain still. He frowned at her but reached for the waistband of his pants and opened them instead of closing the distance between them. The open garment sagged down his legs, and he stepped out of it in one swift motion. His cock stood up, stiff and erect, with nothing to impede her sight of it.

“I believe you claimed your mother had you tutored by a courtesan to keep you from fear tonight. Is it working?”

“Yes …” She answered before thinking. Her mind had long since stopped trying to interrupt her with its ponderings.

“Then touch me, Bridget.”

She had never heard him plead, but it was there in his husky tone. A need to have her come to him. There was no choice involved. She reached out, her fingers connecting with his erect member. He stiffened, drawing in a harsh breath. Hearing that telltale little sound flooded her with confidence. She closed her hand around his girth, allowing her fingers to grip him gently. Her memory offered up a picture of how Marie had stroked Tomas’s length, and Bridget mimicked the motions.

“Sweet Christ.”

Curan clamped a hard arm around her, pulling her against his body and trapping her hand in place.

Frustration sent her chin up. “Now who is timid?”

His teeth were bared at her, but she rubbed the underside of his cock with her fingers and listened to him suck breath through his teeth.

“I believe it only fair that I reduce you to the same weak creature your touch makes me.” His lips curved up in an arrogant grin. “I enjoyed hearing you whimper.”

“I believe I will enjoy hearing the same from your lips just as much.” She rubbed his cock once again. “Unless you are too much afraid of a woman gaining control over you. Somehow I doubt that you have never been sucked.”

“Sweet Christ, that woman told you about sucking a man?”

Bridget laughed, a throaty sound that drew one of his hands down to one side of her bottom. His fingers gripped her, the tips curling into the valley between her cheeks. Rising up onto her toes, she placed a soft kiss against his chin.

“She showed me.”

He cursed beneath his breath and in French, but it filled her with more boldness.

“Does that displease you? I seem to recall that the subject Marie demonstrated on was most pleased. Or did you want a wife who would lie on her back and submit while reciting her prayers as you serviced her?”

His fingers began stroking her bottom, massaging and gripping the cheek they were holding. Heat licked its way through her passage, making her aware of how empty she was.

“You will be far too busy whimpering with pleasure to pray.” His fingers suddenly delved farther between her thighs to touch the entrance of her body. She jerked, knocking her teeth against his chin. He grunted but remained still, one fingertip gently entering her body.

“But we were discussing me making you whimper.” This clear challenge in her voice caused his face to tighten. The arm chaining her to him suddenly relaxed, allowing her to move far enough away to begin stroking his cock once again.

“So we were.”

There was unmistakable challenge in his voice as well. But her confidence rose to answer it, determination making her bold. Sinking to her knees, she used both hands to stroke his flesh. It was hard, yet covered in silky smooth skin. Opening her mouth, she licked along the ridge of thick flesh that ran around the head. She heard him drag in another harsh breath, heard it hissing through his teeth. Such a small thing, but from Curan it was a glaring signal that she was affecting him. She longed to be more than a possession; here in the dark she wanted to be his lover. Which entitled her to an equal share of giving delight.

She allowed her lips to close around the head of his cock. Another hiss escaped from him, but his hand appeared at the back of her head, gently cupping while she teased his cock with her tongue. Her heart was still pounding, the frantic pace keeping her warm. Her rapid breathing drew the scent of his skin into her senses. The fragrance was distinctly male and intoxicating when coupled with the way he drew those harsh breaths. Her confidence blossomed, and she relaxed her jaw to take more of his length into her mouth. His flesh felt harder than she’d expected, but it was covered in the satin of his skin.

Bridget felt nothing unpleasant, and she discovered that she preferred doing the sucking far more than viewing someone else perform the deed. Watching had not allowed her to truly experience how much it excited her. She hadn’t smelled the scent of his skin or tasted the faint salty drops of seed that collected in the slit that crowned his cock. She had been ignorant of so much while watching, for the act was decadent.

He muttered something that didn’t make sense, but the tone stoked her growing pride. She might be on her knees, but there was nothing submissive about her position. Using her hands to caress the portion of his cock that wasn’t inside her mouth, she experimented with speed and tightness. She judged the success of her efforts by the sounds he made and the way his hand began to grip her head tighter, as though he feared she might stop.

She recalled that yearning … that pounding need to press against the hand giving her pleasure. She wanted to place him in that same position, wanted to know that he was as desperate for her touch as she had been for his. Her hands moved faster, and she took even more of him into her mouth. His hips jerked, thrusting toward her as she heard his breathing become ragged and fast.

“No.” He pulled her head back as he snarled that single word at her.

She hissed back at him, her temper flaring up. “You gave me release with your hand. Why will you not submit to my touch?”

“Because I have spent too many hours wondering if I have lost you to take the quick pleasure your lips promise me.”

He hooked his hands beneath her arms and lifted her off her knees in a motion that stole her breath. She forgot how much strength he possessed, forgot because he always controlled it so expertly when touching her. Yet it was there in his body, far more strength than she had, plenty to imprison or hurt her if he chose to disregard her comfort.

“I will have my wife, Bridget, and I swear that I shall have you now. There will be no more time for you to spin false tales.” He bent one knee and scooped his shirt off the floor. When he pushed back up to tower over her, he captured her head with one hand and held her hostage with his breath teasing her wet lips.

“You are not suffering your courses. Maybe once I have claimed your innocence you will be done with all of this resistance. To be honest, I care about naught save proving that your body craves our union as much as my own does.”

He pressed a hungry kiss against her mouth, boldly sending his tongue deep into her mouth to stroke against her own. The hair on his chest tickled her skin, but it felt so very male that she shivered. Passion rose quickly to flood her. Thoughts of taking command vanished as he held her head in place and took a deep taste of her mouth. This kiss was everything she had seen in him the moment he arrived—hard and conquering. His cock brushed against her belly, promising her that he could indeed keep his promise to claim her.

You long for it …

“Yet I will say most plainly that your suckling is a delight that I will be most glad to yield to.” He placed a soft kiss against her cheek. “Yet not tonight. I have reached the end of my discipline for waiting.”

Firm and hard, his tone drew a shiver from her. His hands found her breasts and cupped them, unleashing a wave of heat that washed down her body. He picked her up and sat her on the tabletop with his shirt beneath her, quick and efficient. He pushed her thighs open to allow for his body to stand between them, lending weight to the fact that he truly was impatient to claim her.