Page 14 of Kidnapping the Duchess
Izak drags a fingertip down the crease of my silk covered sex. When he grazes my clit, my hips jerk, and I suck in a sharp breath. “You’re so wet I can smell the juices soaking your panties. You’re gonna go off like a rocket, Duchess.”
Out of habit, I revert to my prickly self. “If I do, it’s because I’ve already been denied orgasms for a full week, not because of anything you’re doing, bodyguard.”
He tsks at me. “The bigger brat you are, the longer the denial. Now be a good girl while I play with my new toy,” he says, picking up the Hitachi.
“That’s my toy. Thief.”
“I was referring to your needy little cunt.” Cue wicked grin that turns my insides to mush. “Let’s get this first one out of the way since I know you won’t last. You have my permission to come whenever you want this time.”
I’m about to tell him where he can shove his permission when the wand hums to life in his hand, distracting me as easily as a ball held up to a retriever. The instant Izak touches the large vibrating head to my swollen clit trapped beneath my panties, my back arches with an orgasm that rips through me like a tornado—it’s forceful, over fast, and destroys my resolve to be the tough girl who refuses to beg. That didn’t even put a dent in my sexual frustration, and now that I’ve had a taste, I want to glut myself on climactic highs.
“Jesus, Daria,” he rasps, then rips the last scrap of silk from my body. “Again.”
With immense pleasure, Mr. Blackstone. If he’s in a mood to dole out orgasms, I won’t complain.
This time he lays the toy’s head on my mound, just above my clit. Close enough to feel the vibrations but too far for direct stimulation. But when his free hand comes into play, it’s a whole new story. He runs the pad of his thumb up and down my slit, gliding easily and spreading my wetness over my folds.
“Goddamn, you have a pretty pussy, baby. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve fantasized about burying my face between your thighs.”
“What’s s-stopping you?” I ask, my voice catching when his thumb does a quick swirl around the rim of my opening.
“Nothing could stop me from eating you out like my last fucking meal. But not yet.” Staring into my eyes, he moves the wand down an inch and gives the order. “Come, Duchess.”
And I do.
Before the last waves of my second orgasm have the chance to roll through my body, Izak starts it all from the beginning. He visibly settles into his role of torturer, and spends the next eternity calmly working me to the brink of coming before backing off and letting me slip away from that edge I so desperately want to fall over. Sometimes he lazily strokes his cock, coating his hard flesh in the honey dripping between my thighs. Sometimes he sticks his fingers deep in my mouth so I can taste myself, then I tease him by showing him how I’ll suck his cock.
And every so often, when he’s feeling generous, he gives me permission to come and doesn’t let up until I give him what he wants—my toe-curling, ab-clenching, swear-inducing orgasms.
I’ve lost count when he finally trades in the vibrator for my fat, glitter-pink dildo. “It’s a little on the short side, but the girth is a good match, don’t you think?”
“Are you seriously having a dick measuring contest with my dildo?”
He chuckles. “No, I’m using this to prepare you to take me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Still a little out of breath, fairly shaky, and a lot sweaty, I make as good of an argument as I can in my weakened condition. “I’m prepared. Promise.”
“Humor me, then.”
Before I can ask him what the hell he’s talking about, he bends down and licks a long stripe up the center of my sex. I cry out in shock and extreme pleasure, then revel in the way his talented tongue and mouth devour and savor me like I really am his last meal on earth. When I feel the blunt tip of the dildo at my entrance, I raise my hips in invitation. He takes my cue and works the smooth shaft deeper inside me, twisting it with every stroke while his tongue swirls around my hyper-sensitive clit.
“Oh, God, Izak,” I get out between panting breaths. “Going to come.”
“No, you’re not. I haven’t given you permission,” he says in that damnable sexy, commanding voice. “Don’t disappoint me, Duchess.”
I bite back the complaint and breathe through the growing tension. I don’t understand my sudden desire to obey and please him, but I’ll examine it another time.
“Fuuuck, baby,” he rasps, then nips at my inner thigh. “Such a good girl for me. Your submission is my drug.”
Or never, I think as something in me feels warm and melty. Never examining it works, too.
Izak removes the toy and sets it off to the side. Then he uses some sort of tool to carefully slice the ropes until I’m completely free. I study him as he checks my skin for bruising or friction burns, and the care he’s taking with me adds another surprising layer to what I already know of him. When he’s satisfied I’m not hurt, his features soften, and he meets my gaze. “What color are you?”
I don’t hesitate. “Green.”
“Be sure, Daria. We can stop now if—”
I pull him down and crush his mouth to mine. Opening for his probing tongue, I pour every ounce of confidence I have into this kiss. The moment he told me to be sure, I was. Because it was then that I realized why I’m still a virgin...I’ve been waiting for him.
Breaking the kiss, I stare into his eyes and say the words I’ve fantasized saying a million and one times. “Fuck me, Izak. Please.”
