then," he ordered softly.
She did so, aware that he watched her bend and crawl up onto the counterpane. Even her natural shyness could not compete with the thrilling command in his deep voice.
She lay down on her back. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed, a blond giant framed by the bed curtains. "I want to see you hold your breasts in your hands."
Olivia shivered, but she obeyed, covering her breasts with her hands.
"No." His voice was soft steel. "I want you to heft them, as if you are proud of them. Hold them high."
She hesitated.
He tilted his head. "Do you wish me to leave?"
She shook her head sharply. No, she wanted him to be here. She wanted him to stay. She lifted her full breasts in her hands, pressing them high until her rigid' nipples pointed proudly to the ceiling.
"Do you remember my mouth on them last night?" His husky tone proved that he certainly did. Olivia nodded, closing her eyes to recall the wet roughness of his tongue and the sharp pleasure of his teeth.
"Touch your sweet nipples. Pinch and roll them between your fingers, as if my mouth is on you."
With a quiver, she wondered dreamily how far this would go. He would never hurt her. That she believed with all her heart. This… play… was about pleasing them both, but she knew so little. The yawning void of her knowledge only served to titillate instead of frighten. He had much to teach her.
She couldn't wait.
She did as he commanded, rolling her hard nipples between her fingers. It felt pleasant, but it was the thought that he was watching her that sent hot jolts of fire deep into her belly. Her head fell back and she surrendered to his gaze, all shyness gone, excited beyond belief.
"Open your thighs, my lady," he said, his voice tight.
She parted her knees slightly.
She sensed him putting his weight on the foot of the bed and felt his large, hot hands on her inner thighs. "Open," he said.
Her eyes flew open. Did he mean for her to expose her sex, with the candles lighted and him leaning over her? He pressed her knees open wide until she felt the cool air on her dampness.
Evidently so. Mortification threatened to drown out her arousal and she clenched her eyes shut once more.
"You're beautiful, my lady. You're like the petals of a rose, still yet to bloom entirely." His hands slid up her thighs to caress those petals, leaving trails of warmth behind.
Olivia slowly released her embarrassment, realizing that he meant to stroke her there again, as he had the night before. How lovely. She'd been so hoping—
He lowered his mouth to her.
Hot shock rippled through her. Outrageous! Shocking—
Oh,
the pleasure
!
Sweet, liquid, fiery,
wicked
pleasure!
She forgot the candles. She forgot the shyness. She forgot the very world itself. Nothing existed but the wild, primal ecstasy provided by his hot mouth.
Her hands flew to the side and she gripped fistfuls of linens, seeking any handhold to keep her from flying into the night and losing herself in the stars.
His hands pressed her open, pinning her thighs, his fingertips still parting her for his sinuous invasion. She was grateful for that solid mooring as his lips, tongue, and teeth drove her higher.
Slick and probing, his tongue entered her, stabbing deep, then flicking up to where her sensitive nub awaited. He kept moving, lips and tongue on her nub, then below, then back, slippery with her wetness, all heat and sensation and delightful circling tongue until she thought she'd die of it—
Her body convulsed, the explosion dimming that of the night before. Pleasure swept in rollicking waves from the center of her body out to her fingertips, stealing her breath on its way.
On and on it went, rocketing through her until sheer exhaustion brought her sliding down from that high plane. She lay panting, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings once more.
Dane rose from her and leaned one shoulder on the bedpost, watching his lady wife come back from the most violent orgasm he'd ever
She did so, aware that he watched her bend and crawl up onto the counterpane. Even her natural shyness could not compete with the thrilling command in his deep voice.
She lay down on her back. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed, a blond giant framed by the bed curtains. "I want to see you hold your breasts in your hands."
Olivia shivered, but she obeyed, covering her breasts with her hands.
"No." His voice was soft steel. "I want you to heft them, as if you are proud of them. Hold them high."
She hesitated.
He tilted his head. "Do you wish me to leave?"
She shook her head sharply. No, she wanted him to be here. She wanted him to stay. She lifted her full breasts in her hands, pressing them high until her rigid' nipples pointed proudly to the ceiling.
"Do you remember my mouth on them last night?" His husky tone proved that he certainly did. Olivia nodded, closing her eyes to recall the wet roughness of his tongue and the sharp pleasure of his teeth.
"Touch your sweet nipples. Pinch and roll them between your fingers, as if my mouth is on you."
With a quiver, she wondered dreamily how far this would go. He would never hurt her. That she believed with all her heart. This… play… was about pleasing them both, but she knew so little. The yawning void of her knowledge only served to titillate instead of frighten. He had much to teach her.
She couldn't wait.
She did as he commanded, rolling her hard nipples between her fingers. It felt pleasant, but it was the thought that he was watching her that sent hot jolts of fire deep into her belly. Her head fell back and she surrendered to his gaze, all shyness gone, excited beyond belief.
"Open your thighs, my lady," he said, his voice tight.
She parted her knees slightly.
She sensed him putting his weight on the foot of the bed and felt his large, hot hands on her inner thighs. "Open," he said.
Her eyes flew open. Did he mean for her to expose her sex, with the candles lighted and him leaning over her? He pressed her knees open wide until she felt the cool air on her dampness.
Evidently so. Mortification threatened to drown out her arousal and she clenched her eyes shut once more.
"You're beautiful, my lady. You're like the petals of a rose, still yet to bloom entirely." His hands slid up her thighs to caress those petals, leaving trails of warmth behind.
Olivia slowly released her embarrassment, realizing that he meant to stroke her there again, as he had the night before. How lovely. She'd been so hoping—
He lowered his mouth to her.
Hot shock rippled through her. Outrageous! Shocking—
Oh,
the pleasure
!
Sweet, liquid, fiery,
wicked
pleasure!
She forgot the candles. She forgot the shyness. She forgot the very world itself. Nothing existed but the wild, primal ecstasy provided by his hot mouth.
Her hands flew to the side and she gripped fistfuls of linens, seeking any handhold to keep her from flying into the night and losing herself in the stars.
His hands pressed her open, pinning her thighs, his fingertips still parting her for his sinuous invasion. She was grateful for that solid mooring as his lips, tongue, and teeth drove her higher.
Slick and probing, his tongue entered her, stabbing deep, then flicking up to where her sensitive nub awaited. He kept moving, lips and tongue on her nub, then below, then back, slippery with her wetness, all heat and sensation and delightful circling tongue until she thought she'd die of it—
Her body convulsed, the explosion dimming that of the night before. Pleasure swept in rollicking waves from the center of her body out to her fingertips, stealing her breath on its way.
On and on it went, rocketing through her until sheer exhaustion brought her sliding down from that high plane. She lay panting, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings once more.
Dane rose from her and leaned one shoulder on the bedpost, watching his lady wife come back from the most violent orgasm he'd ever
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