Thea Devine - Captivated

She turned her head.

The bulge of his erection told her more plainly than his words what pleasure awaited her when she finally willingly eagerly submitted to him.

If only he would get it over with

It was in her eyes, and he read it clearly: the fascination with his ever-protruding penis, and her refusal to ever give in to him.

Let her lay there then, he thought furiously.Let her think about what she had felt, what just his fingers had made her feel. What she could have if she came to him willingly.

He couldn't take it another moment. He sagged against the door, his breath ragged, his body perspiring and taut with the sheer effort of controlling his lust; he felt like exploding, and shooting his seed all over her naked buttocks.

For one fulminating moment, he didn't care about lessons or love or Gerard Lenoir. All he wanted was that hot, bone-crackling release, and preferably centered deep into her hot, tight, traitorous body.

But then he pictured her nipples, her tight pointy nipples, and he wondered if Gerard had ever seen them, touched them… His mind would go no further.

All the sensual games he was playing with her now were still not proof against her having given her body to Lenoir to touch, to play with. And if he ever found out that Lenoir had laid a hand on her… Drue Caledon would remain his virgin bride forever.

But he would, finally, regretfully, let her get dressed.

So…all the vixen wanted to do was taunt him and think about another man poking her

How much should a husband have to take?

Even he didn't know the limits of his controlor his passion. The only thing he knew was she wasn't going to tempt him to take her before he was ready.

And that resolve already required the endurance of a saint.

He lay stretched out on his bed in the room next door to Drue's, and watched idly as every thought of her excited him to a bone-hard erection.

Still a virgin; a beautiful, round bottomed, long legged, hot, wet naked, come-take-me virgin. That at least was some consolation.

You sure are ass-over-end insane for waiting to rut in her though.

Am I? I should just take her, the way she begs?

Why not?

Why not…

That inviting cleft between her splayed legs enfolding him…those flaring hips cradling him; and then lunging and plunging and penetrating the final barrierand spending himself deep in that moist, rich velvet of her…

He drew in a sharp, hot breath, every molecule in his body aching to get his hands on her, to thrust his way into her.

Waiting naked for you, primed as a pistol for you, look at how your fingers made her squirm for you… she couldn't get enough of your fingers,for God's sake, in her furrow…

… Hellfire…

He had a squirming, naked woman already willing to spread her legs for him, and he sat here having wet dreams about her, instead ofhaving her. That sounded a little off-whack to him, too.

But there was a method to this insanity. There was. It was just at this moment, with his penis throbbing with lust for her, he couldn't quite remember what it was.

He gave her a half hour before he came back to her bedroom.

She lay where he left her, belly down and restrained, her eyes closed, her mouth determined.

Which was how he knew she was not sleeping.

"What now?" she muttered dampingly.

His erection did not die. If anything, the sight of her quiescent body and lush curves aroused him all the more.

"Well, my fawn, you've gotten a taste of what it feels like to have a man's hand inside you. Now I thought I'd like a taste of you."

His words put her in a panic. "No. No.No!"

"Nowhat,my wife who is never to refuse me anything…?" His voice was silky, soft. Iron.

"I can't take this, Court." Was she throwing herself on his mercy? Maybe so, buthe was the torturer, not she. If only, only, only he would do his duty… they could dispense with the games and start to live their separate lives.

She could make do with that, shecould…

She shrieked."What are you doing?!!" as he lifted her onto her knees and began rubbing something onto her protruding sex.

"Making myself a tasty treat, my fawn…"

She moaned.Oh, Lord, the feeling of his fingers massaging something thick and sticky into her like that, all around her naked cleft was almost more than she could bear.

"You like that," he murmured.

She made a guttural sound at the back of her throat. "I don't like anything." Her body contradicted her immediately, undulating seductively against his swirling fingers.

"You'll like this." No, heliked this, the feel of her compressed woman flesh against his fingers as he swirled honey all around it.

"What are youdoing?!!"

"I'm coating you with honey before I sip from your cup…"

Omigod, omigod, omigod… She pulled, she wrenched, she kicked, she writhed and she couldn't get away from him or the inexorable touch of his rubbing fingers.

Bear it… just let him get it over with and bear it…

But she was doing more than bearing it. She was inviting it, and against every feeling she had about him.

She hated herself. She hated her naked body. She hated him…

"Ahhh," he growled. "And now…"

"And now?" she whispered fearfully.

"… I eat my sweet treat…"

And she couldn't escape. Where before he had held her middle with his iron-bar arm, now he relinquished her, and straddled her hips, pulling her onto her knees again.

"Now…" he groaned, and bent over her. And took her with one long luscious swipe of his tongue against her pulsing, swelling sex.

Omigod… omigod… was there ever a more relentless mouth… She fought him, she enticed him, she couldn't get away from him and his determination to lick and suck every last drop of honey from between her legs.

Her body stretched and pushed and begged; the leather pulled, shaped, contoured her woman flesh to give him the utmost access to her. Again and again, he inserted his tongue into her cleft, seeking the taste ofher.

For one unsettling moment, she felt as if she were solely connected to him, just there, just like that. Her knees went weak and almost boneless from the sheer insensate pleasure of it.

He took it all and she was helpless to stop him, utterly without control, totally in his power to give her that with his succulent carnal kisses.

There, and there, and there…

There was something too decadent, too erotic, and too dark about all those deep tongue-tied kisses.

As if he thought they could make her want him.

No, she could never never want him. But she could learn to live with and yearn for those unspeakable sensations he evoked in her.

She could learn to spread her legs for him whenever he commanded her.

She could learn to be the best whore and wife in the whole of St. Faubonne Parish.

But want him? Love him? No.Never.

Never…

Her nerve endings quivered and her body quickened as his tongue caught the edge of her shimmering pleasure.

…ever…

What was he doing? What was he doing?

Her body jolted as he touched some sacred secret part of her she did not know existed

…ever

and she slid downward into that dark erotic place and tumbled headlong into a waterfall of silver that broke ever so gently over his tongue.

Ripe… ready… and resisting him already

He held her hips tightly as he pushed against her, pulling every nuance of sensation from her body before he let her pull away.

And pull she did. As if she couldn't get away from him fast enough. What more could be said?

Thathe wasn't sated? Not nearly.

That this was her first brush with carnal pleasure? So likely.

That now she would offer herself willingly? Not hardly.

He made a disgusted sound and eased away from her tempting flesh. It was all he could do to keep himself from plunging into her.

She was there for the taking, her bottom tilted at exactly the angle to accommodate his roaring man flesh.

All he had to do…

All he had to do

"Take me," she whispered, hoping against hope as she sensed his agonized indecision and eyed his towering erection.

"I think not, my fawn. I think the taste of you will sate me and prepare me for another day," he murmured, clenching his hands into fists to keep from running them all over her rounded buttocks.

Instead, he forced himself to climb over her and off of the bed.

"Such a pretty sight, my fawn, in the aftermath of your pleasure."

"Is that what it was?" she muttered, unable to keep the thread of sarcasm out of her voice.

"I see," he said stonily, his body flinching at the thought she might have experienced this already, with Lenoir. He hadn't even considered thatthat Lenoir might have tutored her inall the earthly delights save onebecause he had been too caught up in the heady discovery that she was still a virgin.

So there was still much for her to learnand for him, he could see that now. A man could take nothing for granted, especially when his penis was aching for release and leading him around by the nose.

"What do you see?" she demanded, alerted instantly by that tone in his voice. That tone meant his displeasure. And that he would prolong the inevitable.

She shuddered. She didn't know why she kept taunting him like that. It would only take that one moment of acquiescence to give him what he said he wanted. An actress could do it. A whore.