Page 12 of Surrender to Sin

“It was only five minutes!”

He tsked, using his free hand to rub the lightest of circles along her upper thigh. “Wouldn’t matter if it was one minute, angel. When I give you an instruction, I expect it to be followed.”

Grace slumped back on the chaise, the velvet cushions arching her so those lush, creamy breasts thrust forward. Tempted beyond measure, he lifted his hand and traced both taut pink nipples, circling and chafing the tender flesh with thumb and forefinger.

“Oh,” she whimpered, beginning to writhe when he alternately stroked and pinched the hard peaks until they darkened to decadent raspberry. To continue the torment, he pushed her wrists above her head, arching her back farther so her right nipple was close enough to suck.

But he didn’t, merely flicked his tongue over it and scraped it with his teeth. His free hand dropped back down to caress her inner thighs, up and down and around, brushing her golden pussy hair but never touching her soaked, swollen labia and clit.

Grace cried out, her hips thrusting upward in an attempt to grind against his fingers, her rock hard nipple nudging his lips, two wordless pleas for mercy.

“You want me to suck those pretty pink nipples, sweetheart? A rough, fast finger-fuck? Or perhaps you just need my tongue buried very, very deep in your sweet, wet cunt. If that is the case,” he finished, slowly licking his lips, “then beg me.”

…

She’d never known desire could be so painful. So all-consuming.

Aroused to the point of madness, her skin coated in light perspiration and pearly moisture actually trickling from her center onto her inner thighs, nothing else mattered. Lord Baxter, an impending marriage, her father and stepmother’s betrayal, all faded to the background against the driving need to come at once. One stroke of her throbbing clit could hurl her from the knife-edge into a brutal and prolonged climax, but Sin continued to deny her that relief, or even the ability to rebel against the teachings of a lifetime and touch herself.

“I’ll do anything. Please,” Grace murmured, so enslaved to the demands of her own body that tears gathered in her eyes.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he said idly, grazing light kisses against her cheeks and chin.

Her tongue flicked out to taste his jaw, and brushed Sin’s mouth. He swore and suddenly her lips were taken by his in the harshest, most erotic kiss of her life. His hard lips demanded, his tongue plundered, and she struggled against the firm grip on her wrists, desperate to hold him, to run her fingers through his hair, to rip his shirt away so she could rub her aching breasts against his hot, hair-dusted chest.

Tearing her mouth away from his, she gasped, “Sin, oh God, please…”

He smiled, stroking her cheek, then her collarbone with a fingertip. “You have such beautiful breasts, Grace. So full and soft, and those nipples…look how engorged they are now, and how dark. Almost wine colored. I’m going to suck them. Suck and bite and lick them until they are so tender even the slightest touch makes you scream.”

It took nary a minute and her broken cries were echoing through the parlor. His relentless mouth on her nipples was an exquisitely pleasurable torment, every teasing lap, every masterful scrape and tug a pulsing ecstasy between her legs.

But she needed so much more.

“Put your tongue in me,” Grace pleaded, almost mindless with want. Later she could be shocked at asking for something so intimate, but not right now. “Down there, like you said.”

“Down there? Oh, angel, I have no idea what you are talking about. But if you happened to specify pussy or cunt, or say, asked me to suck the swollen little nub of your clit, there’d be no confusion and I’d be happy to oblige.”

Even though she’d never spoken those words in her life, her core thrummed in response. She moaned, her world reduced to one excruciating craving that would send her tumbling toward something cataclysmic. Proper behavior, society, mild scandals…they could all be damned. “Please,” she begged. “Put your tongue in my pussy. Suck my clit. Make me come, darling, please.”

Sin stilled, and a kind of panic engulfed her that he might stop, that he might inflict the ultimate punishment for her tardiness and abandon her on the verge of climax. But then he released her hands and slid down until he knelt in front of the chaise. Roughly, he gripped her waist and pulled her to the edge, forcing her thighs wide with his massive shoulders so one leg rested on the padded velvet arm of the chaise, the other dangled down his back. The position left her utterly open and defenseless, yet somehow she didn’t feel vulnerable or ashamed. Just wildly excited.

Using his thumbs, he gently parted her slick, petal-soft folds, and Grace shuddered, arching her hips in wordless entreaty.

Leaning forward, Sin blew softly on her throbbing, aching flesh, then holding her gaze, he licked her pussy in one slow lap.

She screamed.

He licked her again and again, long, decadent curls of his tongue that reached as far up as her clit, and returned to plunge deeply into her pussy, making her moan and pant as relief and blissful pressure twisted together and hurtled toward breaking point.

“Yes, sweetheart,” growled Sin between licks, “that’s right. I want to hear how it feels when my tongue is buried in your cunt. Fuck, you’re so wet and hot and taste so damned good…”

“Sin,” said Grace hoarsely, her fingers threading through his hair and gripping his head as she writhed against his mouth. “I’m so close, oh please, oh God, let me come…”

He rammed his tongue inside her, pinched her engorged clit, and suddenly she was there. Waves and waves of unending pleasure that made her whole body jerk, and tore a prolonged cry of complete abandonment from her throat. Minutes later, or perhaps hours, it was hard to know, Grace stared at Sin with heavy-lidded eyes that could barely focus. He remained between her thighs, the knuckles of his index and middle finger rubbing soft, slow, achingly good circles between her pussy entrance and clit.

“Welcome back,” he said with a grin. “Don’t suppose you’d let me up now, these polished wood floors are hell on the knees after a while.”

Fiery heat burned along her cheeks as she realized her leg was still draped over his shoulder, with her heel practically having gouged a moat in his back. Not to mention her hands’ unwillingness to surrender their grip on either side of his head.