Page 32 of Only a Mistress Will Do

He opened his mouth, trying to capture it.

She laughed and dangled it just out of reach.

Lightning fast, he snaked his tongue out, teasing the tip with tiny rapid strokes that made her whole body shudder. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, he broke her loose hold, pulled her down, and engulfed the nipple.

Further languorous strokes hardened the little peak to a bullet point, aching in a wonderful way that drove her wild. She rubbed her cheek against his hair, moaning quietly as he sucked the tight crest.

With one hard pull on her breast, he slid his finger deep into her slippery channel.

“Ahhh, Lord, Tris.” God, any part of him felt good inside her.

He withdrew and returned with two fingers. They weren’t nearly as big or as long as his cock. Yet when he moved them like that her whole body trembled, tension gathering at her core. He pumped slowly, setting all her nerves on edge. Then, releasing her nipple, he slipped out of her and pushed her up to sit on him once more. “Pose for me, Violet.”

Wicked man. Feeling wanton, and loving it, she sat straight, her lower lips pressed to his hot flesh. Moving slowly, she raised her arms and positioned her hands behind her head, her breasts jutting out like a ship’s prow. As he’d intended perhaps. His eyes glittered like black diamonds seeming to drink in the sight of her. She’d make him drunk with wanting her, then. She draped her hair over her shoulders so the shiny brown locks fanned over her breasts, hiding most of them from his view. Turning to the right she batted her eyes at him over her shoulder. What else could she do to enflame him? She twisted back, then leaned over him, brushing her hair across his broad chest, teasing his dark brown nipples.

“Vixen,” he growled, and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against him.

“I’ll show you a vixen.” Her pulse raced, excitement brewing as she reached behind her and stroked the length of his cock. Smooth. Hot. Big. She closed her hand around him and pumped twice, gliding her thumb over the crown, gathering his juices. Carefully, she brought her thumb around so he could see it glistening.

His breath rasped as his body tensed. He swallowed hard.

Slowly, she licked the gleaming drops from her thumb, then poked her tongue between her lips and wiggled it at him.

“Christ.” He grabbed her waist and, in one sudden movement, lifted and impaled her on his rock-hard erection.

“Ahhh.” The absolute fullness of him, touching every inch inside her almost brought her to immediate completion.

He smiled up at her, hunger in his eyes.

Her heart stuttered so she could hardly breathe. “I love you, Tris.”

“And I love you, Violet.” He thrust his hips upward, touching the farthest reaches of her.

“Ohhh, you know just what to do, don’t you?” She strained upwards, then slid slowly down him.

“To do what?” He rocked them, grinding into her with a circular motion.

“To drive me mad.” God, she never wanted this to end.

He stroked through her curls, finding the little nub he’d shown her last night. “Yes, I do.” With his thumb, he brushed it, circled it, faster and faster until she spun out of control.

“Tris, Tris. Oh, yes.” She gasped as the tension gathered, spiking within her. “Almost there.”

“Ahhh.” He pounded harder, kneading the sensitive part with skillful changes of rhythm.

Until she burst, shimmering pulses throbbing within, sending her over the edge.

“Violet.” Moments later he cried out, thrust again, and drenched her with his hot seed.

She collapsed on top of him, sweaty cheek meeting sweaty chest, his heart hammering in her ear. Her own thudded dully, slowing bit by bit. She didn’t care if it took wing and escaped her chest. Serenity settled over her. If she never moved again, she would be satisfied.

Tris drew the covers over them, and gathered her into his arms.

His heart calmed, the strong regular beat lulling her toward sleep. As long as she and Tris were together she would be content. “I could stay like this forever.”

“You say that now,” he chuckled, the vibration tickling her ear. “But if it came down to you having to miss a meal, I believe you would throw me over for a nice minced pie or Mrs. Parker’s Yorkshire pudding.”

She giggled. “I have more willpower than that.”