Walking to the bed, he crawled onto the mattress, bringing her body with him to the center. He’d intended a slow pillaging, but the urgency in his groin had him roughly pushing open her legs, until there was space for him between. Then he hooked his arms beneath her knees and spread them wide and high, exposing her moist, pink flesh fully to his gaze. She was lovely.
The bare outer lips framed a pussy so pink and fragrant, he knew he’d spend himself in a second if he dipped inside.
She murmured a protest and lifted her hips from the mattress. An invitation, he found hard to resist. She was so eager.
Too eager.
Priss was accustomed to having her wants accommodated, instantly. A snap of her fingers and she could order up sex toys or a paid companion for her immediate satisfaction. She didn’t have to worry about the niceties—like manners or the other partner’s needs. She was spoiled. Too spoiled to spare a smile or a soft word. Not that he needed those things, but he could only imagine the poor, brokenhearted louts she’d left in her path.
He’d be damned if he’d let her lush little body and breathy commands lead him to an easy surrender. She needed a little lesson first…in working for what she wanted…in patience.
Priscilla sighed dreamily. Now she was going to get the plundering she’d paid for—and by a smuggler! Almost like having a pirate. She’d had a thing for pirates when she was a teenager.
Raised on stories of the daring adventures of the mythical Adamarik Zingh and his crew of bloodthirsty cutthroats, Priscilla had secret fantasies of being captured and ravished by the handsome pirate.
Declan was every bit as dark as Captain Zingh was purported to be. Every bit as well built. Perhaps, she should just look on this whole fiasco as the fulfillment of her ultimate fantasy.
He released her knees and stretched himself full length over her body. Her legs were trapped beneath his weight, and he glided his hands along her arms, then clasped her wrists and pulled them high above her forehead. She was stretched, deliciously vulnerable to his wicked whims.
“Wh—at are you doing?” she asked, wriggling beneath him, excited he was choosing this dominant role and playing into her fantasy. Her body hummed with excitement.
“I’m taking my time. Don’t you prefer a slow seduction? Most women do.”
“Slow?” she laughed, delighted and growing more aroused by the moment. “I’m primed already. Let’s get down to the good stuff now.”
“Don’t you know?” he said, his mouth hovering over hers, so close his hot breath filled her mouth. “If you give little girls what they want, they become spoiled.” His mouth settled over hers. But rather than the deep kiss she wanted, he rubbed and mouthed with the gentlest caress, and then drew away.
She licked her lips, readying herself for the passionate kiss that was sure to follow. Then she realized what he’d just said. “Do you mean you aren’t going to…” Surely, he was only teasing.
“You said the word before. Don’t be shy now.”
She blushed. The word was coarse. She’d said it in the heat of passion. “Well, aren’t you supposed to pleasure me?”
“That isn’t the word I want you to use, love.”
Heat curled inside her belly, blossoming with moisture that flooded her vagina. “Well, I’m not going to say it. I was…overcome before. I’m not in the mood now.” She could play this game too. She’d give him a little resistance to keep him wondering whether she’d submit.
“I think you are.” He leaned down and nuzzled her nipple with his lips. “But I want you to work harder for what you want.”
The game was losing its glamour. He wanted full surrender. Something she’d never given a man. Her pussy pulsed with the need to clasp his cock deep inside. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She waited for his head to rise.
His expression was closed. His gaze watchful. Was he really waiting for her to capitulate? To beg?
Almost at the point where she might give in to him, she said, “Do you want me to pleasure you first?”
He rolled his eyes. “You aren’t getting it. Not much for subtleties, are you?”
She pressed her chest upward, rubbing her nipple on the underside of his chin to tempt him. But he didn’t take the hint and suck it into his mouth. “Fuck subtleties.” She scraped the engorged tip along his jaw, regretting the loss of his beard. She needed friction, movement, and clitoral stimulation—his cock inside her body. Now! “I go for what I want.”
“That word again, but not how I wanted you to use it.”
“Tough!” Her body ached for release, and he wanted to play semantics. If he wasn’t going to give her what she needed, she’d play with Jake the Saddle Tramp. He never made unreasonable demands. “Look, if you’re just going to play mind games with me now, you can take your little power trip with you when the door hits you on the ass.” Her hips strained upward in an attempt to unseat him.
Instead, her wriggling only managed to aid his cock. The shaft was centered now between the folds of her pussy. She gasped, feeling her face contort with dismay and frustration. She hated that he could see her torment. He dipped his head to her shoulder and rested his forehead there for a moment. Was he girding himself to pull away from temptation? Or to be swept along with the storm?
Her body trembled with need. Please, let it be the latter.
Chapter Six
‡
Declan groaned. The shiver that racked her body was so powerful, his body tightened with the need to answer with a thrust. How he would have loved to drive straight up inside her, take his pleasure, and be done with it. But the woman needed to learn she couldn’t lead a man by his ballocks.
Now, if he could just convince his ballocks…
His cock pressed into the side of her soft hip, and he took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. Then he brought her hands together and held them clasped between one of his. He leaned to the side, keeping her legs trapped, so that her torso was free of his weight. With his free hand, he was now able to explore her flesh at his leisure.
Rising on his elbow, he stared down into her angry face. “Give me your mouth,” he commanded.
Her lips tightened into a thin, mutinous line while her gaze shot daggers at him.
He sighed. She was one stubborn wench. “You want to do this the hard way?” His hand smoothed over her shoulder and lowered to one quivering breast. He circled the supple, round globe, never approaching the reddening areola.
Her skin was soft as silk beneath his fingertips, creamy-white with a tracery of thin blue lines just below the surface. The freckles splattered across her chest looked like flecks of gold strewn haphazardly by an artist intent on luring a man to see whether he could lift the flecks with his tongue. Her nipple was distended, a rosy, pouting bud shaped for a man’s mouth to suckle.
He gave into temptation and administered several gentle pinches to the creamy mounds, and then leaned down to flutter his tongue on the tip of her nipple, wetting it.
Her breath caught on a ragged gasp, but she clamped her mouth shut again.
His gaze sought hers as he leaned down and blew over the tip.
“Bastard!” she moaned, her hips twisting from one side to the other. “Take it in your mouth.”
“When I’m ready.”
She writhed, nudging her hips against his cock. “Feels like you’re more than ready.”
He gritted his teeth as she nudged him again. “Say the damn word.”
“Fuck you.”
He shook his head and forced a smile. “You must have been a trial to your teachers.”
His hand glided lower, following the gentle dip and swell of her belly, lingering to scrape the few freckles decorating her skin there. He spread his fingers wide and discovered his hand nearly spanned the width between the rounded notches at the top of her hips, reminding him of her petite size. Slowly, he rimmed her shallow navel.
Her stomach quivered and jerked upward. Her head lurched off the bed. “Please!”
> He ignored her entreaty and continued his downward path, skimming her lower belly until he reached the soft, nude flesh of her mons. He wondered if her pelt would be as red as the hair on her head if she let it grow.
The pale petals beckoned him to glide down the center path of moist, pink flesh, but he resisted for a moment and pinched the plump outer lips.
She cried out, her thighs struggling beneath his to open.
“Like that, love?” He slid one finger along the seam of her lips and captured the moisture gathering there. “Oh, I think you do.”
“Bastard!” she groaned.
He lifted his finger to his mouth and painted her cream on his lips. “Would you like a taste?”
“No more,” she cried, a ragged edge to her voice. “Come inside me.”
Oh, to be sure, he wanted to. “You’re in no position to command me,” he replied, his voice gruff with need.
Hot temper colored her cheeks and breasts, and she lifted her head to glare at him. “Oooh! When this ends, I’ll see you sent to the scrap heap.”
“Are you making threats, now? You’re hardly in any position to carry them out.”
“Not threats,” she said, struggling anew to free her hands and legs. “Promises!”
Well, he was man enough to answer her challenge. But first, she needed a little restraint to keep her open and vulnerable to his assault on her senses. He’d allow no escape, no respite to shore up her defenses. He was laying siege.
With his free hand, he reached for the pillow at the head of the bed and clumsily stripped away the case, and then used it to tie her wrists together. Once she realized his intent, she screamed her fury, bowing her back and bucking to lift him from her body.
He grinned. “Do you think you’re strong enough to stop me?” he asked, and then looped the end of the silk fabric around the post at one corner of the bed and knotted it. Now, at least her upper body was restrained.
“You son of a bitch. Untie me now!” She arched her lower body again.
He rose above her, holding himself on his arms. “Such language. Your mouth needs something else to keep it occupied.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she gave him an evil smile. “Bring your cock around and see what I do with my mouth.”
His lips closed over hers, challenging her to strike.
Instead, she returned his kiss, stroking her tongue inside his mouth.
He lifted his head and grinned. “I’m not ready to be made a eunuch. We’ll save the pleasure of your mouth around my cock for after you’re tamed.”
“Never!” she shouted. “You’ll never see that day.”
“I wouldn’t speak so rashly, love. I’d hate your words to give you indigestion when you eat them.” He scooted down her body and gave each breast a kiss. “Such sweet fruit to hang from such a spiky tree.”
“Aaa—gnes!”
“She’s not here, love. And she won’t respond any time soon. She’s sparking on Tonio. Besides, she wants you to take your medicine.” He plumped a breast with his fingers and opened his lips above her nipple.
“Oh no, you don’t! No fruit for you, you freak!”
He latched onto her nipple and sucked it between his teeth, drawing hard, swirling his tongue around the tight bud.
She writhed, twisting her upper torso, trying to dislodge his mouth.
So he bit, bringing her to a sudden, breathless halt.
“No more.” She shuddered, and her legs tensed beneath his. “No more…more.”
He chewed gently, letting his teeth abrade her tender flesh, enjoying the low moans his torture wrung from her throat. He drew back his head, until the nipple pulled free from his teeth, and then he administered soft, wet kisses around her breast, saving deeper suctioning for her dimpled areola.
Priscilla mewled like a kitten and lifted her shoulders off the bed, pressing her breast deeper into his mouth. “The other. It aches. Please.”
He let her breast go, but continued to massage her nipple with his chin while he gazed up at her. “Tell me what you want. Make it nasty.” He brushed his lips lightly over the tip.
Her breath shuddered. “Bite me. Bite my tit. Please.”
“Please what?” His lips tugged the hardened point and let go.
“Please. I don’t know what you want,” she said, twisting her hips. “Tell me what to say.”
His mouth curved. Even when begging the edge of command was in her voice. “Please, master?”
“No!” She scowled. “Please, pirate.”
“Pirate? You think I’m into rape and pillage?”
“Not rape—but you can pillage me, pirate.”
So that was her fantasy! Nasty girl. “Does Agnes know you’re this kinky?”
“Agnes doesn’t know everything. Bite me!”
He twisted the nipple still wet from his mouth.
“No! The other one. It aches.”
He moved to the other side and fluttered his tongue on the neglected bud.
“Don’t tease me.” She pressed her chest upward, offering her full breast.
He didn’t bother looking up to see her expression—the ripened blossom fascinated him. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he said softly.
“Please, pirate. Have mercy.”
“Mmm. I like the sound of that. Will you beg so sweetly when I bite your clit?”
“I’ll scream,” she said, her voice growing hoarse with strain. “Would you like that better?”
“As long as you don’t scream to Agnes,” he replied wryly.
She pumped her hips, an unsubtle reminder. “You’re taking too long.”
“You’re too demanding. You’re supposed to be begging.”
“I don’t beg.”
“Then what were the pleas for? Rescue? Do you really want me to leave you like this?” He bit the other tit, sharply, causing a strangled screech to erupt from her. He waited to see whether he’d exceeded her pleasure-pain tolerance.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she moaned, but her hips rose, pumping against his abdomen.
“Lovely, precious Priss,” he groaned and chewed on the tip.
Declan had never had the urge to play a marauding ravisher. But Priscilla’s delight ignited a dark fire in his belly, a violent sort of lust he fought to control. He growled and tugged her nipple side-to-side before releasing it and quickly sliding lower.
He nibbled on her belly, and then suctioned the soft flesh, leaving dark love marks on her pale skin. Some powerful and wholly masculine pride took satisfaction from leaving evidence of his journey upon her body.
His tongue tunneled into her navel and glided lower, reaching her mons. He laved the smooth lips, flirting with the pink edges of her inner lips, but not delving deeper between.
Declan kept her legs clamped shut, and his elbows settled at either side of her thighs as he teased her engorged flesh. Her lips were pink and plump, and he felt the throb from her center beneath his tongue as he probed between her thighs.
Priscilla arched her body off the bed. Her cries grew incoherent.
And still he lapped her flesh like a dog—long wet strokes that captured the cream seeping from her cunt. His own flesh strained into the mattress, and he pumped softly to ease the rock-hard ache between his thighs.
Soon! He’d have to take her soon or go mad. But first he wanted to hear her to beg him sweetly.
Priscilla was beyond thought. Beyond pride. Her whole world centered on the wicked swirl of his tongue as he lapped over her outer labia and teased the edges of the furled inner lips. She fought his restraint to open her legs. But all her wriggling and bucking earned her nothing. He wouldn’t be deterred from her slow torture. Her nipples ached from his rough treatment, and her pussy gushed with a fresh wash of arousal. She took a primal pride in the fact he licked every drop away. Does he like the taste of my come?
She lifted her hips again, trying to coax his tongue between her labia to her aching, engorged clitoris, still hidden beneath its hood of flesh.
Priscilla tried to ignore him, to concentrate on the aching want, but his tongue had halted its forays against her pussy. She peeked from between her heavy eyelids. The sight of his head, poised between her legs, made her gush again. “Let me open my legs wider,” she moaned. Then she remembered. “Pirate.”
Declan groaned and slid his tongue between her lips and upward, glancing against her clit.
Her body jerked, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Please Declan, let me open my legs,” she begged, her voice thin and high—a sound so foreign she thought another woman must have spoken.
He kissed her mons. “I like the way you beg, and you’ve been such a good girl.” His weight shifted off her legs.
Opening her eyes, she found him crouched, his thighs spread over hers. His cock, thick and red, rode high against his belly. The crown glistened wetly.
Her glance sought his face. His features were strained and tight. His dark gaze watchful.
A primitive thrill coursed through her. She’d ignited the passion that burned in his eyes. She quickly slid her legs from between his, settling them on either side of his knees. She lifted hers to plant her heels in the mattress. Once again, she was open, vulnerable—her pussy dripping and flared wide for his taking.
“Come inside me,” she said, lifting her hips from the bed.
He grunted. “Still haven’t learned, princess.”
Realizing her mistake, she moaned. “Please, come inside me.”
Declan shook his head, then his gaze dropped to the open vee of her thighs. “Wider,” he growled.
Although her legs trembled, she shifted her feet farther apart. He cupped her knees and pressed them outward, stretching her further open. Her breath caught when he leaned down, bringing his face closer to her pussy. The trembling grew, and she strained to hold herself still. Pride demanded she try.
Again, he tongued her pussy. Long strokes painted her tender flesh with the cream she oozed. Strokes that built a curling tension deep inside her womb. His fingers spread her inner lips, and he nuzzled her with his nose. Then he speared his tongue inside her, swirling into the opening then retreating.
The Pleasure Bot (Planet Desire Book 4) Page 6
