My Wicked Devil (Club Wicked) by Ann Mayburn

stings.”
    “What hurts more? Your need to come or your arse? Concentrate on your body and ignore what your mind is telling you.”
    She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “The need to come, my lord.”
    “Do you want me to make you come, Kira?”
    “Please, my lord, so very much.”
    He patted her pussy, enjoying how his hand slid across her swollen flesh. “Good girl. Stand up and follow me.”
    Without looking back, he led her toward another section of the large room. If he turned her the right way, she would see the mirror on the opposite wall, but from this angle, all she would see was him and the prayer bench. The bench itself was an antique made of dark walnut covered in red and gold brocade from an estate in England. It was padded enough so she should be able to remain on her knees for a good amount of time, but he needed to keep an eye on her old injuries.
    He reached around and traced his fingers against the outer curve of her breast. The softness of her skin felt like heaven beneath his fingers so he spent a few moments touching her, stroking her, and making her purr. He loved how cuddly she got, and placed a gentle kiss on her temple before taking a step back and firming his voice.
    “Kira, kneel on the bench. If at any time your hips begin to lock up or it gets painful in a manner that might lead to injury, you will tell me right away. I cannot stress enough how important it is that you communicate your needs to me.”
    She moved past him and carefully knelt, then grimaced. “It doesn’t hurt my back or hips, my lord, but it does shove that steel beam further into my butt.”
    He moved over to her and swept her hair back. “Sweetheart, that’s a starter size. If you want a steel beam in your arse, I’d be only too happy to oblige.” He lifted her breasts so they sat perched, displayed and plumped up, on the top portion of the kneeler.
    She gave a soft laugh. “I keep wanting to put my hands in a praying position, but I’m afraid God will strike me dead.”
    Trailing his fingers over the tops of her breasts, he then walked around to the front of the bench and took his time enjoying the view. The mixture of apprehension, fear, and vulnerability in her face sent a hard surge of blood to his cock, and he let her see his passion. She slowly looked him over, her gaze tracing his skin like a burning ember, taking in his hard nipples, down to where the hair on his stomach disappeared into the waist of his pants. Her soft, pink lips parted, and she took an unsteady breath.
    She licked her lips. “Um, may I speak, my lord?”
    “Asking my permission? You must be scared.”
    A hot flush stained her cheeks. “I wanted to say that I like your body, my lord. Very much.”
    Anticipation tightened his gut. Such a darling girl. He couldn’t wait to defile her.
    “Open your mouth, love.”
    After an initial hesitation, her golden-brown eyes searching his face, she did as he asked. What a pretty picture she made. Hands clasped together, breasts presented for him, and that smart mouth open to receive him. He traced her lips with the tip of his finger, reawakening her nerves, moving her mind back to her body.
    Placing one finger in her mouth, he grunted when she immediately began to suck on it. “Taste that? It’s the sweetness of your pussy.”
    She groaned and sucked harder, sending blasts of lust through his body and making his already hard cock throb. With his other hand, he began to twist and pull on her nipples, forcing her to absorb the discomfort. Much to his delight, the harder he pulled, the harder she sucked, almost like his finger was a pacifier to soothe her.
    No man on earth could resist the temptation of her eager mouth.
    Withdrawing his finger from her moist heat, he then began to undo his pants with one hand while continuing to torment her breasts with the other. Her breathing sped up, and she focused on his crotch even as her face tightened at the pain. She was beautiful in her suffering. The