"You play the pleasure game so well for such an innocent," he said, his voice harsh with his effort to restrain himself.
She closed her eyes as he gently removed his fingers from her nipple and roughly pulled what was left of her bodice over her breasts.
This was it; this was the end for today. She hadn't pleased him. He would leave her now and go to the knowledgeable woman who knew exactly what to do about a man's needs, and whose body he would engorge with all the cream she could pump out of him.
"You're going to her, aren't you?"
"Maybe I don't have to if I can get what I need here." His unruly penis speaking, damn damn and damn.
"I can give you anything she can."
"But I bought her. She has to."
Her body shifted and squirmed at the thought. "If you have enough juice for two, you have enough money for two," she whispered. "Pay for me, Jeremy. Buy my body. And then / have to."
His groin tightened painfully. He didn't think he could walk out of that room. Never in his life had anyone demanded he buy her. Never in his life had a virgin begged to be fucked like this. Never had he had a woman whose nipples responded like this. How could he resist her?
But he had to. Damn it. He was supposed to be pretending interest, not trying his best to get her naked and in his bed. Well, he wasn't pretending anymore, but neither was she.
He had to give it another shot. Maybe if he intimidated her, and laid down the most inflexible rules, the most impossible restrictions, she would give up this insane idea, and tonight would be the end of it.
For her.
He had to try, the most demeaning terms and conditions he could think of.
"If I buy you, miss wants-to-be-a-fancy-piece, I buy your life. I dictate everything. I come and go as I please. I fuck you when I feel like it, not when you want it. And if I don't feel like fucking you, it's your bad luck. I don't like begging. I don't like disobedience. The mistress I pay for is welcoming, compliant and always ready to spread her legs. I have a lot of expectations, which, living in your father's house, you will have to manage to comply with somehow-if I decide to buy your body. Is that understood so far?"
Her throat constricted. Her body writhed voluptuously as if to entice him to make the decision. She nodded, wholly unable to speak.
"Everything you promised before holds the same. I own you, I own your body, every inch of it, especially what's between your legs. You can withhold nothing. You can never refuse me, no matter what I ask, no matter what you want. This is not your willingness to play at being a mistress. These are the terms to be a mistress. This is what a man buys when he buys a woman's body: she is his vessel, his convenience, his toy. And he can take her out and play with her whenever he wants."
She licked her dry lips, her body quivering at his evocative words. He knew exactly what she wanted, and she must convince him.
"I want that. I want to be to you everything you said."
Damn and blast. "You still need some priming."
"I don't care. Pay me, and you can play with me." She arched her back so that the tattered bodice of her dress slipped down her breasts and caught on her distended nipples. She shimmied her shoulders, and the bodice fell, baring her breasts. "If I become your mistress, no one else will ever suck them."
His penis jolted and pearled. Damn right no one else would ever suck those lush teats. Goddamn hell, could he not control his damned penis? And what was he teaching her… that other men would pay for her? That she could sell her naked nipples to the highest bidder? Oh, she did like to use that bludgeon. And he was not immune to it. The thought of another man even touching her was pure agony, because any other man would have banged her up and down the Thames by now, and here he was, his penis painfully at point, trying to scare the bejesus out of her-and succeeding not at all.
What was wrong with him? He had virgin ass on his lap, two succulent nipples to feast on, barely two layers of material between his hard meat and her hot hole, and she was begging him to fuck her, and he was hesitating?
She was asking for it. And there wasn't a man alive who wouldn't give it to her now, as hot and hard as she could take it.
"These are my expectations. Nothing impedes me when I want to fuck you. That means you learn to live without wearing undergarments. That means that when you have no social obligations, you are to expect me anytime of the day or night, and you dress accordingly. Simply put, you are naked and ready to take my penis every minute of your day. That's all I care about, just getting inside your naked body the minute I arrive. And for the privilege of being the only man who roots in you, I will pay you according to how well and how quickly you learn to please me. And when you agree to these terms."
"Have I pleased you so far?"
"Your nipples please me. But you are still dressed, and that doesn't please me."
"You haven't bought me yet."
"A mistress on the hunt generally shows the merchandise before a man pays for it. After all, how does he know what he's getting? All I see are your nipples, and your breasts could be your only prime attribute."
"Let me get ready for you, then."
"Learn this lesson, fancy-piece: a mistress lives to be naked for the man who buys her. If you can't strip off your clothes in front of me, well, you still have a lot to learn, and perhaps I don't want to pay for the privilege of teaching you. Unless, of course, you show me that your naked body is worth my attention-and my money."
Big mistake to taunt her like that, because to undress, she had to slip off of his lap, and then he didn't have her tight, round virgin ass undulating against his penis every time she moved.
But he did have a front row seat as she pulled down the sleeves of her dress and let it fall to the floor to reveal the thin silk garment underneath. It was so sheer he could see the thick enticing bush of dark hair between her legs; and for the rest, her stomach was flat, her breasts high and full, her body beautifully curved, and her nipples tight with excitement.
She ripped off the slip and flung it at him; he caught it and held it to his face to breathe in her essence.
Yes, he wanted it. He wanted it more ferociously than she.
She eased herself onto his lap again, naked but for her stockings and slippers, and wriggled against his penis as though she had discovered a place to root.
"Do you want what you see? Jeremy?"
"One part of me definitely wants it," he muttered as he felt another spurt of cream erupt.
She slipped off again and paced the room, circling in front of him, posing for him, enticing him. 'Will you pay for my body, Jeremy?"
"Do you accept my conditions?"
She wet her lips. "I do."
He had taught her too damned well, and now be could not back down. "Then, I will buy you." He dug in his pocket for a handful of guineas and tossed them carelessly onto the floor "You are mine now, wholly and completely." He began to unbutton his bulging trousers. "Get on your knees."
She knelt in front of him as he freed his rampaging manhood. A monstrous thing, a wondrous thing. With this, he would own her, and she would enslave him.
She put out her hand to touch it. It was so hot, so hard, so undeniably his life force; and as her fingers grasped it, a little gush of pearly cream erupted from the tip, and she swiped it with her forefinger and licked it
He waited, containing himself, hellaciously hard with those innocent fingers squeezing him and exploring him and… and… sliding him between her breasts, coddling him there, stroking him there… and… now rubbing the bulging tip of his penis against her erect nipples, one after the other, again and again and again.
How did she know to do that? Damn damn damn-he didn't want her to stop; he didn't want to stop.
She loved the way the hard rock of him felt against the thrust of her nipples back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… back… forth… back-she caught her breath as he thrust upward suddenly, violently and erupted like a geyser, spuming his thick hot cream all over her br
easts.
Not enough cream for two-not tonight...
He grasped her shoulders and pulled her up onto his lap and ground his tongue into her mouth, massaging his essence into her breasts, her hot nipples, whatever part of her he could reach. He wanted to envelop her, devour her, contain her.
He cupped her buttocks, pressing her thigh and belly into his sticky wet penis that was still hard and randy as a goat. He could have taken her there, just spread her legs and embedded himself forcefully and possessively into her hot velvet innocence, but he resisted tenaciously.
Still he couldn't stop tonguing her and fondling her; every inch of her aroused him to an unbearable hardness, as if he hadn't shot himself all to hell all over her nipples. And her round, tight little ass-he wanted to mark his erotic possession of every part of her body-hard little bites so she would remember to whom she had sold her body.
And then common sense prevailed; Reginald would be home soon. And then what? His naked daughter in the library and the man he trusted most rooting voraciously in her mouth with his cannon of a penis on display. Shit.
He thrust her away. "We're done."
She wriggled more tightly against his spurting shaft. "Do more to me." She stroked the head, her fingers innocently- maybe not-rimming the tip of him and stroking it just where it would arouse him the most.
He got a firm hard grip on reality. It wasn't just Regina discovering sex in a public place; it was the fact that Reginald could come in the door at any moment. "My terms, fancy-piece. You have no wants or desires. You agreed to abide by that."
"Are you going to her now?" She refused to move from his lap, and she held his penis in tightly, lightly, stroking him, stoking him as if she didn't want to let go.
"It's not your business."
"You don't have to spend it on her. You have enough to do more to me."
He removed her hand. "Go upstairs."
"Then, come back."
"Go upstairs now."
She slipped off of his lap and bent over to gather up her dress and the money, of course the money, which provided him with a tempting view of her ass and the lush tuft of pubic hair between her legs from that reverse position. It was almost enough to make him capitulate to her-but that wasn't the point. The point was to push her and push her until she stopped this nonsense-or until he pushed himself into her tight, hot little cunt.
She turned to look at him, mutely begging for him to come with her even as he began tucking away his still jutting penis.
"I don't care what you want, fancy-piece." Did he not?
"Don't go to her. I can give you what she can give you."
"Not quite yet you can't, fancy piece. You can't accommodate me between your legs."
"When, then? When will you do it to me?" she demanded as she dressed, her body electric with arousal and jealousy of the mistress for whom he still had enough cream that he could go to her after everything they had done this night and still fuck.
"When I feel like it," he said callously. He had to get her upstairs-and soon. He took her by the arm. "You agreed." So tempting. So erotic, her standing there in such disarray. He wrapped his arm around her neck, draping it over her shoulder so that he could just compress her nipple, and he marched her toward the door. "This is what a man pays for. Not for your demands or your desires and wants and needs. His desires and needs. And now, Í don't need you any more tonight." He withdrew his fingers from her breast and turned her to pull her bodice back up to cover her nudity.
He was unspeakable, she thought; a monster to fondle her nipple like that and just leave her. But he didn't care.
"Upstairs, fancy-piece." He opened the door and pushed her through. "I know you'll have sweet dreams."
Chapter Four
She lay in her bed, naked, her body hot and taut with desire, her skin meltingly soft, her breasts still faintly sticky with his residue. And she could still feel the compression of his fingers on her nipple; she stretched, languid as a cat, as her body reacted to the sensation.
Why wasn't he here to play with her nipples?
She heard her father come home, not minutes after she went upstairs. She heard the clock strike midnight, one, two, three o'clock.
Blast him. Blast him. He was with that cheap piece of hay-market ware he called a mistress and wasting all that luscious cream on her. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. She could spread her legs as wide as any doxy. And if the only reason he wasn't fucking her tonight was her much vaunted maidenhead, well, she could take care of that easily-and it didn't even have to be with him.
Any cock would do, and it would serve him right if another man deflowered her. There were men who loved to go at a virgin full bang. And just to show him, she wouldn't even charge for the privilege.
And then he would never have a reason to root in that apple-wife's bang-box again.
Yes.
Her body went feverish with a heavy longing. Yes. She wanted his thick hot penis right now. And his wild wet tongue and devouring kisses. And his fingers constricting her nipple with just the perfect pressure that even the thought of it made her go weak. Yes.
She felt molten, liquid, breathless… yes...
She heard a sound, and she turned, startled, just in time to see him slip into her room, carrying a candle that he set down on the table by the door.
He turned the lock emphatically, and slowly he paced toward her, removing one piece of clothing at a time until he was naked and thick and erect, aroused beyond saving. And beside her suddenly on the bed, dangling the house key before her, the triumphant symbol of his power.
"I couldn't get your tight little ass out of my mind, so I came for it."
Her breath caught. Yes.
"Turn over."
She rolled onto her belly, and she felt his arm slide roughly under her hips and lift her onto her knees. And then-and then his hands, his big hot hands everywhere on her buttocks, feeling and squeezing and sliding into her virgin crease and exploring there, arousing her there. And then his mouth and tongue, licking, and nipping her curvy bottom, biting, sliding his tongue everywhere, working his erotic way down between her legs to her most secret place where he began a prolonged tonguing and sucking of her luscious slit.
She shimmied her bottom, working herself more tightly against the point of his taut tongue. She felt his stabbing movements coming closer and closer to penetrating her moist heat. She felt his hands on her buttocks, holding her, lifting her, positioning her so that she was canted at just the right angle for his tongue to take her.
Just… just… ahhhhh… the shocking moment when he slipped his tongue in, and then the luxurious lapping and sucking and pulling hard hard hard on her nakedness, riding her with his tongue, dissolving her, drawing her insides out… until she could do nothing but surrender in a long, low, gut-teral moan as a bolt of pleasure struck her down like lightning.
Slowly, he eased her down to the bed and turned her over so that she had full view of his nakedness as he bent over her and took her mouth in a hard, hot, possessive kiss that was permeated with the very essence of her.
He caged her with his body, his penis flexing between her breasts, and supporting himself on one arm so that he could take that one lush nipple between his fingers.
Her body jolted as she felt the erotic constriction of that thrusting point. His kiss was endless, harsh and rough with a man's uncontrollable desire, his need to possess her fueled by her pleasure, her nakedness, and by her squirming body enticing him as he played with her rigid nipple.
He couldn't get enough of that nipple. It was so taut, so responsive. He couldn't relinquish it as he pulled away from her mouth, a bare inch, and growled, "I'm never letting go of this teat."
And with those words, he knew there was no going back: he would take her, take her at her word, take her kisses, take her body, take her sex, because this was a battle he never could have won.
She writhed at the words, arching her upper body more tightly to his fingers. "Keep doing
it. Harder. Do it to me."
"I intend to, fancy-piece. You've been cock teasing me for a good week now, and my patience just ran out. I paid for you and I'm taking what I want. Tonight. Sit up."
She levered herself up slowly so that she did not dislodge his fingers, and swung her legs over the bed, following his lead. He came around behind her, lightly twisting at the nipple to get his arm around her shoulder, so she was braced against his chest, and he rammed himself tightly against her bottom as he edged over to a small, armless boudoir chair.
He lowered himself into it, with her, back to front, on his lap, straddling his hot penis with his fingers still holding the point of her nipple.
She arched back languorously into his demanding kiss.
Oh, his kiss, his hot, voracious kiss. Her hands on the bulbous head of his penis, stroking it and playing with it as he suckled her tongue and held her nipples and made her want to surrender every naked part of her body to the mastery of his hands.
Somewhere in that kiss, he relinquished one nipple. Somewhere in that kiss, she felt the fingers of that hand probing her velvet heat, penetrating this way, one two three, twisting that way, one two three. And his fingers playing with her nipple, and his greedy, engulfing kiss…
Her body spasmed, seeking surcease, but he only intensified the pressure, the penetration, the kiss. She felt as though she was melting, her whole body just dissolving in his hands. She wanted his fingers to thrust deeper, tighter, harder between her legs, his kiss deeper, harder, hotter in her mouth. And his fingers squeezing her nipple… how did he know just the perfect pressure that made her want to run away from it, that made her want to lean into him because it was still not enough.
He pulled a breath away from her lips, as ferociously aroused as she. "I need this nipple. But I need to fuck you more."
"Do both," she whispered.
"You couldn't stop me." He pushed harder against the soaking heat of her cleft. She was wide open to him, her body squirming and writhing on the hardness of his shaft, pushing insistently against the hot penetration of his fingers. "Oh, you do like it when I'm inside you."
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