Meeting Her Match - Page 91

Except that couldn’t have been my bedspring. I was on my feet, looking for something properly warm to wrap around myself. It must have come from the room next door.

That must be the men’s sleeping quarters.

Throwing the blanket over my shoulders, I tiptoed to the corridor, wanting to investigate. By “investigate” of course I mean “find Damian”.

It was easily done. I knocked on the neighbouring door, concocting a story in my head about needing a dressing gown. Within seconds, Damian stood there, tall and draped in a long cotton robe that showed the freckles on his chest.

‘Oh,’ he said with an inviting smile. ‘It’s you.’

I forgot my cover story in an instant.

‘I’m so fucking cold,’ I told him.

‘Need warming up? Step right in.’

He peered out into the corridor, pulled me up to his chest and whisked me into the room, shutting the door smartly behind us. Within seconds, I was against the wall, crushed into a kiss that stole the reason from my brain, stole the cold from my bones, stole everything except my need for Damian’s body.

‘What about His Lordship?’ I gasped, letting him lead me over to his narrow bed. ‘Isn’t this against the rules?’

‘It’s me that’d get into trouble,’ he reassured, bundling me down and kissing me again. ‘I’m in the position of authority. You’re just obeying me.’

‘I don’t want to get you into trouble.’

‘I don’t care, babe. I want you. I’m going to have you. His Lordship only comes down here when there’s someone in the punishment room anyway. We’re safe. Even if the staff find out, they won’t snitch, I promise.’

‘You’re very sure of that.’

‘I’m very sure of them. They won’t want to get me into any strife. Now shut up and kiss me.’

I was happy to do so. Here was a feeling I had almost forgotten amidst the formality and strictures of my D/s couplings. Spontaneity, passion, lust that was triggered by the man rather than the situation. This was what I had felt with Stuart, and what I had been reaching towards ever since. I didn’t want an either/or. I didn’t want to be vanilla or kinky. I wanted to be both, but with the same partner.

Lying beneath Damian, luxuriating in his hard, male body, I was so struck by this revelation that my tongue stopped pushing, fingers stopped pinching, hips stopped gyrating until he extracted himself from my lips and blinked down at me.

‘Are you OK? Did you hear something?’

‘No, no. It’s fine. Just … had a thought, that’s all.’

‘Don’t think, love, that’s always fatal. Thought is the enemy of fucking. What do you think of that? Just made it up – might have it monogrammed on my chauffeur gear.’ He grinned, devilish and much too attractive to blow off in favour of navel-gazing. I pushed my self-analysis to the back of my mind and replaced it with his taut chest and shoulders.

‘You’re right. Less thinking, more fucking. I don’t want to waste a minute.’ I pushed him back down with a hand to the back of his neck and let him have his way with me. His way involved much less pinching or slapping than I had become used to, though he managed a good few bites before his hungry mouth found its way to my hungrier pussy. He sucked at my clit and made a strawberry-coloured mark on my thigh, licking me until I almost came, then he pulled away, flipping me on to my stomach and driving hard and fast into me.

Hard and fast

, feverish and disordered, this was the way sex hadn’t been for so long. He braced a forearm beneath my stomach, grabbed a hip and pounded, grunting behind me while I jolted and wobbled on my knees, trying to keep my bum up while the pillows edged further and further into my face.

He’s really having me, I thought with delirious joy. He isn’t going to stop until I can’t walk straight. I moved a hand to my clit and stroked it slowly, letting the sweet sensation mingle with the brutal stretching above it, trying to find the perfect balance. He removed his own hand from my hip and made me cease my strumming, which was disappointing until it became clear that he meant to do it himself. Thrusting vigorously, he dipped his fingers deep into my well of juices, rubbing up and down. I tried to strain against him, to get my release, but unexpectedly he stopped fingering me and put my own hand back on the needy button of flesh. I waited a moment before starting again, needing permission.

‘Go on,’ he whispered. ‘Touch it. I’ve got a surprise for you.’

I was so close, so close, almost there, and then his slick forefinger slid up the crack of my arse and pressed at my newly-trained hole, testing it for give and tension. I yelped and contracted my muscles.

‘Tch tch,’ he said softly, holding me still with his cock fully seated inside me. ‘You’re going to get this, aren’t you? From His Lordship, by the end of the week. I just thought I could help with preparing you. What do you think?’

‘Oh God,’ I moaned, horribly turned on by the thought, despite my anxieties. ‘I thought you said he wouldn’t let anyone else … You know.’

‘Not going to put my cock up there, am I? Just a finger. Or two. Just give you a taste … of how it feels to be double-penetrated. Don’t you want to know?’

‘Ohhhh,’ was all I could say to this. Of course I did.

Tags: Justine Elyot Erotic
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