Simply Sinful by Kate Pearce Page B

loved him. A child who would never know what it was like to grow up alone as he had. Peter stroked the growing bulge in his breeches and his aching balls. He slid a hand into his breeches pocket and drew out a silver cock ring. Opening his breeches, he slid his balls and shaft through the three rings, grimacing at the tightness of the cold metal against his heated weeping cock. A brisk walk up the stairs, a little rough play with himself in bed and he would be ready to face another lonely day.
    He gathered his mail, blew out all but one of the candles and retraced his steps to the darkened hall. He left the letters on the table and turned to the shallow, worn stairs. The old house creaked and whispered as he passed through the narrow corridors, the smell of beeswax and dried herbs rising in the warm currents as he passed.
    With every step, his swollen constricted cock brushed the taut buckskin of his breeches. He wished James were here to suck him dry, to kneel down in front of him and take him, drain him, cock ring and all, until he could no longer breathe.
    When Peter opened his bedroom door, a draught blew his candle out. With a soft curse, he placed the candlestick by his bed and shrugged out of his clothes. He hadn’t drawn his curtains completely last night. In the gray early morning darkness, the metal of the cock ring gleamed dull and tight against his shaft. He touched the crown of his cock, swirled his finger in the thick wetness and deliberately scraped his nail over his most sensitive flesh.
    He climbed into the high four-poster bed and collided with a warm naked body. He grunted as his cock jammed against something hard and fought to move free. He grabbed hold of a flailing arm.
    “Lady Beecham, what the hell are you doing?”
    Abigail came up on her knees, her eyes bright and desperate in the half light.
    “I don’t want you to go!”
    He tried to move away as his cock slid against her hip again. She scrambled after him and he caught her by the shoulders, keeping her at arm’s length.
    “There is no need for this now. We can talk in the morning.”
    He tried to sound patient and calm. God, he needed her to leave before he dragged her underneath him and pounded into her until she screamed her release to the heavens. She started to tremble.
    “You no longer desire me, do you? I’ve driven you away.”
    He forced himself to relax his grip, slid his hands down over her naked arms in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
    “No, it’s not that. It’s late and you are obviously over-wrought and…Christ…”
    Her hand brushed his cock and then fisted around him. He stopped moving as all his blood left his brain and pumped through his swollen shaft.
    “Peter, what have you done to yourself?”
    He grabbed her wrist, tried to prevent her from exploring. “Abigail, it’s nothing, just let me take care of it.” He groaned as her grip tightened.
    “Is this my fault? Are you punishing yourself because I turned you down?”
    “God, no…I…”
    His hips rocked forward and an exquisitely painful sensation spread through his loins. God help him, he wanted her hand there, needed her hand there. She tried to pull away but he covered her hand with his own. He moved again, thrusting into her fingers, so wet now that he moved easily even within her tight grasp. Unable to stop, he threaded his other hand into her hair, keeping her close as his body took over the rhythm. He forgot about being civilized or apologetic and simply took.
    “Harder.”
    He tightened his fingers over hers, needing the roughness and the friction to counteract the constraint of the cock ring keeping his shaft erect. She murmured his name, her gaze lowered to his groin and she put her other hand on his balls, squeezing tight.
    “Yes, like that, hard, make me beg.”
    He kissed her neck, her shoulder, managed to find her breast and angle her nipple into his mouth. She shuddered as he sucked hard on her, showing her no mercy, demanding she