Page 130 of Down and Dirty

“You are gritting your teeth. Does that mean you liked that?”

His answer was short puffing noises designed to haul in this raging freight train of an arousal before it crashed.

Taking his puffing for a yes, she flicked him some more with her fingertips, then took him in her mouth and suckled.

He about shot up off the bed… or at least as far as his restraints would allow him to go.

“You did not like that?”

“I liked it too much. Take it easy or—” His words were cut off because Britta had moved even lower, her hand cupping his balls, her fingertips stroking him lightly, as if she were petting a dog. A dog!

“Dost know you have blue veins sticking out of your manpart?”

He gurgled, especially when it felt as if she had just kissed the tip. “Britta, bring yourself up over me. I mean it. Do what I say, or this game is over.”

“And how would you stop… this game?” she asked, even as she straddled him, then leaned over.

By pulling the damn bedposts out of the headboard, that’s how. Every nerve in his body, in fact every inch of his skin felt raw with arousal. He needed the deed done, and soon. But what did the witch do? She was stroking his chest with her breasts. Lightly. So that the nipples grazed his chest hairs.

“That feels wonderful,” she revealed breathily.

“Bring your breasts up to my mouth, sweetie,” he urged.

He latched onto one breast and licked and flicked and sucked on her till she was keening. Then he moved to her other breast, not letting her move back, even when she tried. Her body stiffened then. He could feel her buttocks clenching against his belly. “What?” he asked.

“I just orgasmed.”

His cock jerked against her butt, and he could swear it grew some more. He’d like to see that. “That’s just great, baby, but you better climb up on me and take me home, or you’re gonna be tied to this bed for a week. My love slave.”

It was Britta who gurgled now. “And that is a threat?” She laughed.

But then she was in the saddle, and he was filling her tight, hot sheath. Amazing how the senses intensified when one of them, like eyesight, was withdrawn. For example, he could feel Britta’s wetness pooling around the base of his erection.

“Do me now, baby,” he encouraged. “Do me good.”

And she did. Had he taught her how to move like that? Had he shown her that slow was good at first, but short and hard was even better? It didn’t last long. It couldn’t have. But they both came together in an excruciatingly intense orgasm, him howling with neck and chest arched, her whimpering a long, “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh… ”

Then there was silence, except for the beating of their two hearts against each other, with Britta’s face nuzzled into his neck. She raised her head, kissed him gently, and said, “I love you, Zachary.”

He felt about ten feet tall then and told her, “I love you, too, Britta. And before you say anything, I have never said those words to another woman.”

“Good.”

“Untie me now. I want to touch you.”

His words prompted her to lift herself off of him.

“What now?”

“Mayhap I will let you touch me tomorrow. For tonight, methinks I will sleep in Sammy’s bed, and we can talk in the morn.” The mattress dipped and rose as she stood up.

“Like hell!” he roared, and with one mighty pull, he yanked his hands free, carrying the drapery ties and the broken bedposts with him. Within a second, he had the blindfold off and was removing the ties. Only then did he glance up and see Britta standing beside the bed with that bloody fur cape held in front of her.

“Enough, Britta! This is enough! What is it that you’re trying to hide? What did Arsallah and his men do to you?”

“’Tis not what Arsallah and his men did to me. ’Tis what you did to me.”

“Huh?” He sat up in bed and was about to go yank the friggin’ cloak off of her when she dropped it herself. Chin raised, diamond tears glittering in her eyes, she waited for his reaction. It came quickly. First his jaw dropped, his eyes widened with disbelief, and then he smiled. “You’re pregnant.”