“I asked.”
“You asked, but I still shouldn’t…I’ve never talked to anyone about it, and it’s better left that way.” He rubbed his warm hand over her arm again with a touch that was firm but so light and sensitive it made her whole body coil up deep inside. “Forget it, I’ve moved on.”
“But you’d be involved in this business again?”
“It’s a good business; it works for lots of people. My personal life shouldn’t interfere with a business decision.”
The anger had completely gone, just like that, and Roisin wondered just what kind of man he was. Maybe it was practice; maybe iron will, because he certainly had that. She should be worried, but she couldn’t be right now; she could just feel a strange sensation of something that could have been relief washing through her, and that bothered her more than anything.
***
“So you know a bit about my wreck of a marriage”—he ran a finger down the side of her neck—“and I know a bit about yours.” He traced the same path with his lips. “And now it’s time to stop digging and live in the present.” Roisin closed her eyes, felt the tingle that ran down, straight to her breasts that already felt heavy with want. He pulled her tighter against him, one hand around her waist; the other cradled her breast, softly squeezing, his thumb running up and down until her nipple peaked into a hard bud of need. “And I know just what you need right here and now.” His warm breath against her neck made her squirm back against him as she felt the dampness build between her thighs. He gave a low laugh, his hand moving down to cradle her mound through her skin-tight jodhpurs. “Sexy as they are, I don’t think you need these right now, darling.” His teeth bit into her delicate skin and she whimpered as he tugged the restrictive clothing down over her thighs, tipping her over the arm of the chair so that her feet came off the floor and he could peel them off completely. She kicked out, struggling to get to her feet, but his hand was on her lower back, a firm, unyielding hand that sent a rush of juices straight to her pussy.
“Oh no, lady, you’re just where I want you.” He flicked a finger under her black G-string, then traced down, forcing a moan from her as he stroked his finger over her damp, swollen labia and slipped, knuckle-deep, into her slickness. “I love your pussy, you know.” He twisted his hand, spiraling his finger deeper, just deep enough to make her push back against him, just enough to make her reach down to massage her clit. But he was quicker, catching her hand and pulling it behind her back. As she wriggled he caught the other one, brought them together, and had her wrists bound with his tie before she could find a way to move.
“You’re mine, Roisin,” he whispered in her ear and she gasped, suddenly realizing that, tipped up over the arm of the chair with her hands bound, she could hardly move. He ran a finger down her slit again and this time she pulsed in response, feeling her juices coat her pussy, gasping as he opened her lips with a teasing finger and then bent so he could slowly run his tongue up the length of her, pausing to flick at the hard bud of her clit. He stopped, almost as though he was studying her, but with her head pressed to the chair she couldn’t move, couldn’t twist around to see what he was doing. Something hard and cold was suddenly against her clit, replacing his warm mouth, and her whole body clenched with a mixture of shock and need. “I think riding crops can give pleasure as well as pain, don’t you?” It was the metal top of her riding crop, a whip she’d thrown on the table earlier. He eased the rounded top into her pussy, rocking it against her clit and circling it around until it rubbed against her G-spot. She was panting, she could hear it, feel her whole body pulsing expectantly as he pressed harder, slid the tip of the crop farther into her cunt until her body’s throbbing made her clench her thighs closer together.
“Oh no, that’s naughty.” The sharp slap stung, making her body jerk in surprise. “Open your legs.” She wanted to squeeze, squeeze the hard metal deep inside her, but he was pushing a knee between hers, opening her up. As he did, he slipped his fingers into her damp pussy, pressing his thumb against her clit, and the orgasm that had been building suddenly surged through her. With the release she opened her thighs wider, willing him on, wanting more. He pounded harder with his fingers, twisting in and out until she was crying out, begging for more, knowing she was grabbing at his hand.
“Greedy girl, aren’t you? I’d give you a good spanking, but I don’t think you’d care right now.”
She tightened her muscles, willing the orgasm that she knew was building again as he increased the speed of his hand. Then, abruptly, he stopped, leaving her gasping. She shut her eyes, squeezing and releasing her muscles, knowing she could make herself come, then she didn’t have to try any longer. He forced his cock into her with a hard thrust that sent her forward, straight into an orgasm that shuddered though her whole body, shattering around him. For a second he held still inside her, and just as the orgasm began to fade he started pumping, pounding into her with hard, short thrusts, his hands gripping her hips.
“Fuck me harder.”
His fingers were digging into her hips; with each thrust he was slamming her back against him until she knew she was babbling, incoherently begging for him to keep going as her body started to tremble closer to an explosion of heat that built like a furnace inside her. Then she could feel a hot rush of juices as her whole body seemed to open up before clenching in pulsing waves around him, and as she stiffened her legs out to hold him tighter he gave a grunt of satisfaction, and she felt the heat of his come shoot deep into her core.
“Mmm, that was nice.” He slipped her hands free, and then bundled her up, pulling her against him and onto the old rug in front of the stove. The strong arm held her, cocooned against his chest. “Maybe I should have put that into the contract somewhere.”
“Slipped up, didn’t you?” She stretched one leg down so that it slid between his.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find some way of adding it in. Or I might just spank you until you agree to whatever I want.” His voice edged its way through her body, setting off a new tingle between her legs. “It turns you on, that idea, doesn’t it?”
She wriggled. It turned her on, and it strayed into territory she wasn’t sure she wanted to head for. “The idea does, but”—she bit the inside of her cheek—“I think I’d need to trust someone a lot to go there.”
It was almost like he’d withdrawn, even though his body was still wrapped around hers. She felt his stomach tighten.
“And you don’t.”
She closed her eyes, bit down on her lip. No promises, that’s what they’d agreed. So why the hell did he think she should trust him?
Chapter 7
Roisin peeled off her damp riding clothes and stepped under the cool jet of water. Not seeing him for two days shouldn’t have been a problem. It should have been a bonus. But her whole body seemed to have an emptiness; she was in limbo, waiting.
Dan and Marie had arrived with a small vanload of stuff and she’d kept out of their way, letting them find their feet, but now she was feeling twitchy, and even a hard gallop that had her heart racing hadn’t relaxed her. If anything, she was feeling more on edge. There had to be some way of releasing the tension, some way that didn’t involve Saul.
The sun was a soothing balm against her back as she strode across the yard, the whole place still and peaceful with all the horses turned out and munching happily on the lush spring grass. It should have been relaxing, but a nervous energy darted around her body as she pushed open the newly erected “them and us” gate that split their business from hers. It swung shut behind her with the slightest of clicks and, for a second, she faltered before turning toward the barn.
A soft murmur of voices carried over the still air; at least they were around, which meant she could get this whole “first day at work” thing over with. And then life could carry on as normal. Well, as normal as it ever would be. She stepped into the shade of the building and the noise reached
out again, a soft moan that carried effortlessly on the air. Shit. Her breath caught at the back of her throat. That didn’t sound like a breakfast meeting. It sounded like an altogether different type of feast.
She took another step, trying to be quiet. Her foot caught on something and she nearly went flying straight into the building. Shit, double shit. She froze, holding her breath, but no one came rushing out.
There was another moan, a very definite moan that tugged deep down in her stomach, a moan that easily penetrated the wood cladding of the building. She just had to look, there was something going on in there, but if she turned now and they heard her, it would look like she was spying. One quick look, she’d just look and see what was going on, and then she’d decide if she should go in or leave. They couldn’t have customers yet, they weren’t open; they were probably just chatting.
It came again, a soft, sensual moan of satisfaction that sent a tremor of need straight to her pussy. She edged up closer against the building; the wood was hard against her fingers, scraping roughly against her bare arm. She couldn’t just barge in, right into God knew what was going on. She pressed her body closer toward the sound, closing her eyes as the coarse wooden slats rubbed against her cheek, her heart pounding in her chest. There could be no mistaking the sound; it was a moan of pleasure.
Christ, she had to see. Before she let them know she was there, she had to see who was making that noise. And why. She shifted across, under the window, bit down on the softness of her lip as she opened her eyes and edged up so that she could see through the window. And nearly gave the game away.
Fuck. She slid down, her heart doing a crazy dance, and squeezed her eyes shut, but all she could see was them. Doing exactly what she should have expected. Another moan seeped into her consciousness. And she had to see what was happening. She edged back up, knuckles clamped to her mouth because she just knew that if she didn’t they’d hear her.
Marie was lying naked across the table, her legs apart and her slick, swollen pussy on view. Roisin stared transfixed at the way the rosy lips squeezed and quivered as though the woman was on the verge of coming, as though she was already coming. She’d never looked at a cunt before, and now she was finding it hard not to. She dragged her gaze away, down the long leg to the large hands that were cradling the slim foot, the red nail varnish stark against the pale skin. Dan. Dan, who was slowly raising the foot higher to his mouth. Roisin gulped as his firm tongue circled the big toe, so slowly, sensually, she could almost feel the touch on her own skin. Marie gave a ragged sigh, threw her head back and started to rock her hips from side to side, mewing with pleasure as he sucked and licked. His mouth left a damp trail as he worked his way down to the arch of her foot and she groaned, trying to pull away, her damp pussy pulsing. He tightened his grip on her ankle to keep her still, sucking and teasing before moving up to her shapely calf.
Roisin felt a shiver of anticipation run through her as Marie’s moans got louder. She bit into her knuckles as Marie reached down with a slender hand, stretching out her fingers to stroke her swollen labia, lips that were already parted and waiting. One slender finger dipped into the wet pussy and Roisin swallowed her own moan. The finger curled up, traced along Marie’s glistening slit, and started rubbing over her clit in small, delicate circles.
Roisin clutched the window sill, suddenly realizing she was balanced on her toes. Her body swayed in time with the circling finger, the dampness of her own panties pressing against her skin, her nipples prickling as they peaked against the hard, rough wood. She leaned in, pressed her breasts harder against the wall, rubbing her swollen buds from side to side as she squeezed her thighs tighter together.
“Hey.” A dark-haired man suddenly stepped forward and she bit back a gasp. He murmured something she couldn’t hear and she held her breath, teetering against the building. The man shook his head in admonishment; he took hold of Marie’s hand, pulling it firmly away from her pussy, and started to slowly lick the juices from her fingers. Roisin groaned as the heat started to pool more urgently between her own thighs. One by one, he put each finger between his lips, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked, before taking the fleshy base of her thumb into his mouth in a way that made Marie gasp.
Shit, she couldn’t take much more of this. Roisin clenched her thigh muscles even tighter together, rubbing; desperate for some friction, some pressure, fighting the sudden urge to reach down and touch herself.
Marie cried out as the man nipped the soft flesh of her thumb between white teeth, and then Roisin almost lost balance as he deftly drew her new friend’s two wrists under the table, tying them firmly together with a length of thin rope. Marie squirmed her hips and Roisin mirrored her frustration; she reached a hand down to stroke the ache between her own thighs that she couldn’t ignore any longer. She ran her fingers up the inside of her shorts to the crotch of her panties, which was already sodden, and as she stroked along her fabric-covered slit, the sweet smell of her arousal wrapped around her.
She sighed, her finger pressing harder against her dampness as the dark-haired man rubbed against Marie’s hip, his large cock obvious under the stretched, worn denim of his jeans. Dan was working his way higher up her leg, nibbling at her inner thigh so that she cried out and bucked her hips. She was begging, and the other man smiled, said something to her, and then, with his eyes still locked onto hers, reached down. Roisin groaned, biting on the back of her hand as he slowly ran his hand down Marie’s face, his thumb caressing her lips until she parted them, until her tongue darted out to taste him. He slipped the tip of the thumb between her lips, between her teeth, his features tightening as she sucked, as she tried to lift her head to take more of it into her mouth. With a small shake of his head he trailed the damp digit down her chin, slowly down her neck, his fingers playing gently over the soft skin, making her shudder.
Roisin was mesmerized by the movement of his hand, her own body tingling as if it was her he touched. He made slow, teasing progress down Marie’s chest, lazily circling one breast, his lightly trailing fingers spiraling inward until her nipple hardened and grew to a dark peak. Roisin glanced back at his face and saw pure concentration, his eyes slightly narrowed as he repeated the movement on her other breast and then traced his fingers down her stomach so that the muscles clenched and her whole body trembled. His fingers stopped briefly at her navel and he murmured something before carrying on, dancing his fingertips over her naked mound. Then one long finger ran down her damp slit, and she pressed down onto his hand as his thumb started to circle her engorged clit.
Roisin pressed closer, desperate to see what he was doing, wanting to see his fingers dip into the throbbing pussy. She pushed her own sodden panties to one side with a trembling finger, whimpering as she ran the tip over her wet folds, parting them as she opened her thighs. This was what she needed; she gave a soft sigh as she rubbed her clit in time with the dark man’s motion, feeling the lips of her pussy swell and part. Closing her eyes for a moment, she let the sensation fill her. The ache spread from her fingers outward and she forced herself to open her eyes, to stop herself from coming too soon. For a moment Dan’s blond head blocked her view, then he moved down and started to work his way up Marie’s other leg. All the time, the dark haired man was playing with Marie’s pussy until it was running with juices, juices that he spread over her thighs. He was teasing her, his fingers dancing on her swollen flesh, never actually slipping inside, and Marie was bucking her hips, desperate for more, desperate for him to probe deeper. Roisin groaned, fluttering her fingers deeper into her own cunt, taking the satisfaction that Marie couldn’t. Grinding against her own damp hand.
Dan’s mouth had reached Marie’s thigh, a thigh that was visibly trembling, and Roisin could almost feel that wet tongue on her own skin, feel his teeth teasing her soft flesh. She was begging for more, bucking and twisting, and still they teased her. She cried out as the dark-haired man moved back up her body to circle her breast,
his finger running over the soft roundness in ever-decreasing circles until he was close to her nipple. A nipple that was growing, peaking, until he took it between his fingers, and this time he squeezed and rolled it, twisting and pulling as she writhed under his touch. Roisin forced her clingy top up over her own heavy, swollen boobs, and tugged at a nipple that was already hard. She tweaked harder, pulling it to a higher peak that rubbed painfully against the lace of her bra, mimicking the way the man squeezed and pulled Marie’s stiff bud as her pussy started to throb around her finger. And it was then he saw her; she could swear those dark intent eyes looked straight at her. But she didn’t care, she couldn’t stop; it was far too late for that. She was panting as she pushed two fingers inside, fucking herself urgently as the two men played with Marie.
Dan reached the top of Marie’s thigh again, and now he wasn’t licking, he was pushing forward; his probing tongue had found the glistening pussy, Roisin gasped and Marie’s soft voice broke and she was crying out, writhing frantically. God, that hard tongue had to be going deep; she was sure Marie was begging for more as Dan held her hips firm, dragging her tighter against his face, and as she screamed out. Roisin bit back her own cry and came. Came with her, gasping for breath, panting and sinking down against her hand as the soft pulsing turned to a hard throb and her pussy grabbed at her fingers, sending a rush of wetness over her hand.
She closed her eyes and sank down onto her haunches, letting her hand slip out from her tight shorts, bringing it up beside her head to support her. She curled her nails against the hard slats, the sweet smell of her own orgasm surrounding her. The tremble gradually ebbed from her body as she rested her forehead against the wood and took a deep, steadying breath. What the hell was happening to her? What was she doing in her stable yard finger-fucking herself? But all she could think of was Marie being so soundly pleasured by the two men, of the look of pure abandon on her face. Shit. Two men. Two tongues, four hands. She’d never really believed anyone actually did that, and now she wanted it.
Riding High Page 10
