Thea Devine - Fascinated

Damn and blast. "You still need some priming."

"I don't care. Pay me, and you can play with me." She arched her back so that the tattered bodice of her dress slipped down her breasts and caught on her distended nipples. She shimmied her shoulders, and the bodice fell, baring her breasts. "If I become your mistress, no one else will ever suck them."

His penis jolted and pearled. Damn right no one else would ever suck those lush teats. Goddamn hell, could he not control his damned penis? And what was he teaching her… that other men would pay for her? That she could sell her naked nipples to the highest bidder? Oh, she did like to use that bludgeon. And he was not immune to it. The thought of another man even touching her was pure agony, because any other man would have banged her up and down the Thames by now, and here he was, his penis painfully at point, trying to scare the bejesus out of her-and succeeding not at all.

What was wrong with him? He had virgin ass on his lap, two succulent nipples to feast on, barely two layers of material between his hard meat and her hot hole, and she was begging him to fuck her, and he was hesitating?

She was asking for it. And there wasn't a man alive who wouldn't give it to her now, as hot and hard as she could take it.

"These are my expectations. Nothing impedes me when I want to fuck you. That means you learn to live without wearing undergarments. That means that when you have no social obligations, you are to expect me anytime of the day or night, and you dress accordingly. Simply put, you are naked and ready to take my penis every minute of your day. That's all I care about, just getting inside your naked body the minute I arrive. And for the privilege of being the only man who roots in you, I will pay you according to how well and how quickly you learn to please me. And when you agree to these terms."

"Have I pleased you so far?"

"Your nipples please me. But you are still dressed, and that doesn't please me."

"You haven't bought me yet."

"A mistress on the hunt generally shows the merchandise before a man pays for it. After all, how does he know what he's getting? All I see are your nipples, and your breasts could be your only prime attribute."

"Let me get ready for you, then."

"Learn this lesson, fancy-piece: a mistress lives to be naked for the man who buys her. If you can't strip off your clothes in front of me, well, you still have a lot to learn, and perhaps I don't want to pay for the privilege of teaching you. Unless, of course, you show me that your naked body is worth my attention-and my money."

Big mistake to taunt her like that, because to undress, she had to slip off of his lap, and then he didn't have her tight, round virgin ass undulating against his penis every time she moved.

But he did have a front row seat as she pulled down the sleeves of her dress and let it fall to the floor to reveal the thin silk garment underneath. It was so sheer he could see the thick enticing bush of dark hair between her legs; and for the rest, her stomach was flat, her breasts high and full, her body beautifully curved, and her nipples tight with excitement.

She ripped off the slip and flung it at him; he caught it and held it to his face to breathe in her essence.

Yes, he wanted it. He wanted it more ferociously than she.

She eased herself onto his lap again, naked but for her stockings and slippers, and wriggled against his penis as though she had discovered a place to root.

"Do you want what you see? Jeremy?"

"One part of me definitely wants it," he muttered as he felt another spurt of cream erupt.

She slipped off again and paced the room, circling in front of him, posing for him, enticing him. 'Will you pay for my body, Jeremy?"

"Do you accept my conditions?"

She wet her lips. "I do."

He had taught her too damned well, and now be could not back down. "Then, I will buy you." He dug in his pocket for a handful of guineas and tossed them carelessly onto the floor "You are mine now, wholly and completely." He began to unbutton his bulging trousers. "Get on your knees."

She knelt in front of him as he freed his rampaging manhood. A monstrous thing, a wondrous thing. With this, he would own her, and she would enslave him.

She put out her hand to touch it. It was so hot, so hard, so undeniably his life force; and as her fingers grasped it, a little gush of pearly cream erupted from the tip, and she swiped it with her forefinger and licked it

He waited, containing himself, hellaciously hard with those innocent fingers squeezing him and exploring him and… and… sliding him between her breasts, coddling him there, stroking him there… and… now rubbing the bulging tip of his penis against her erect nipples, one after the other, again and again and again.

How did she know to do that? Damn damn damn-he didn't want her to stop; he didn't want to stop.

She loved the way the hard rock of him felt against the thrust of her nipples back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… back… forth… back-she caught her breath as he thrust upward suddenly, violently and erupted like a geyser, spuming his thick hot cream all over her breasts.

Not enough cream for two-not tonight...

He grasped her shoulders and pulled her up onto his lap and ground his tongue into her mouth, massaging his essence into her breasts, her hot nipples, whatever part of her he could reach. He wanted to envelop her, devour her, contain her.

He cupped her buttocks, pressing her thigh and belly into his sticky wet penis that was still hard and randy as a goat. He could have taken her there, just spread her legs and embedded himself forcefully and possessively into her hot velvet innocence, but he resisted tenaciously.

Still he couldn't stop tonguing her and fondling her; every inch of her aroused him to an unbearable hardness, as if he hadn't shot himself all to hell all over her nipples. And her round, tight little ass-he wanted to mark his erotic possession of every part of her body-hard little bites so she would remember to whom she had sold her body.

And then common sense prevailed; Reginald would be home soon. And then what? His naked daughter in the library and the man he trusted most rooting voraciously in her mouth with his cannon of a penis on display. Shit.

He thrust her away. "We're done."

She wriggled more tightly against his spurting shaft. "Do more to me." She stroked the head, her fingers innocently- maybe not-rimming the tip of him and stroking it just where it would arouse him the most.

He got a firm hard grip on reality. It wasn't just Regina discovering sex in a public place; it was the fact that Reginald could come in the door at any moment. "My terms, fancy-piece. You have no wants or desires. You agreed to abide by that."

"Are you going to her now?" She refused to move from his lap, and she held his penis in tightly, lightly, stroking him, stoking him as if she didn't want to let go.

"It's not your business."

"You don't have to spend it on her. You have enough to do more to me."

He removed her hand. "Go upstairs."

"Then, come back."

"Go upstairs now."

She slipped off of his lap and bent over to gather up her dress and the money, of course the money, which provided him with a tempting view of her ass and the lush tuft of pubic hair between her legs from that reverse position. It was almost enough to make him capitulate to her-but that wasn't the point. The point was to push her and push her until she stopped this nonsense-or until he pushed himself into her tight, hot little cunt.

She turned to look at him, mutely begging for him to come with her even as he began tucking away his still jutting penis.

"I don't care what you want, fancy-piece." Did he not?

"Don't go to her. I can give you what she can give you."

"Not quite yet you can't, fancy piece. You can't accommodate me between your legs."

"When, then? When will you do it to me?" she demanded as she dressed, her body electric with arousal and jealousy of the mistress for whom he still had enough cream that he could go to her after everything they had done this night and still fuck.

"When I feel like it," he said callously. He had to get her upstairs-and soon. He took her by the arm. "You agreed." So tempting. So erotic, her standing there in such disarray. He wrapped his arm around her neck, draping it over her shoulder so that he could just compress her nipple, and he marched her toward the door. "This is what a man pays for. Not for your demands or your desires and wants and needs. His desires and needs. And now, Í don't need you any more tonight." He withdrew his fingers from her breast and turned her to pull her bodice back up to cover her nudity.

He was unspeakable, she thought; a monster to fondle her nipple like that and just leave her. But he didn't care.

"Upstairs, fancy-piece." He opened the door and pushed her through. "I know you'll have sweet dreams."

She lay in her bed, naked, her body hot and taut with desire, her skin meltingly soft, her breasts still faintly sticky with his residue. And she could still feel the compression of his fingers on her nipple; she stretched, languid as a cat, as her body reacted to the sensation.

Why wasn't he here to play with her nipples?

She heard her father come home, not minutes after she went upstairs. She heard the clock strike midnight, one, two, three o'clock.

Blast him. Blast him. He was with that cheap piece of hay-market ware he called a mistress and wasting all that luscious cream on her. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. She could spread her legs as wide as any doxy. And if the only reason he wasn't fucking her tonight was her much vaunted maidenhead, well, she could take care of that easily-and it didn't even have to be with him.