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I was able to catch my breath long enough to know it was his turn to be taunted, to be brought to the edge again and again and left wanting. Needing. I ran my hands over his upper arms, shifting down his body to his cock, rock hard and ready.
Ian's breath hissed out at the contact, his mouth near my breast stilled, his eyes slipped closed. He was so big, my fingers didn't close around his shaft. With one hand, I stroked up and down his length, getting used to his size while I cupped his balls in the palm of my other. Romance novels alluded to a man's cock as a sword or a saber and I'd always laughed at those vivid descriptions. They'd been more than accurate when it came to Ian, however, for his skin was hot and smooth over hard steel. I ran one finger around the sensitive ridge of the head and it was Ian's turn to push into my touch. As I learned what made him groan, what made his muscles tense, I watched as a drop of pre-cum seeped from the tip and slid down onto my fingers.
"Jesus, wife. I dinna want to come like a randy youth all over your hand." Ian sat back on his haunches out of my reach and pushed my legs wide apart, then shifted so his hard cock was notched at the entrance to my pussy. He lifted his glance to mine. "I want my seed deep inside you so I can give you that bairn you've wanted."
By a simple shift of his hips, he slid in. All the way. His earlier seed eased his passage. Hooking his arms behind my knees, he pushed them up and back so I was wide open and exposed. I'd wanted a baby? Of course I had. I'd been with a man who hadn't given me one. Perhaps that had been for the best, but with Ian, even I wanted to know his seed would take root inside of me.
He didn't hold back anything, but took me hard. I knew, deep down, that he wouldn't hurt me, but I liked him like this. I liked knowing that I'd made him mindless to his need to fuck, to use me as he wanted, to perhaps come so that he could ensure his seed filled me up. Each time he bottomed out there was a little bite of pain, but it only escalated my pleasure. I was going to come, and hard.
I couldn't move, couldn't even arch my back, pinned to the bed as I was. I could only take whatever he wanted to give me. I was his to use. The way he wielded his cock, he rubbed over delicious places deep inside me.
"God, Ian, yes," I breathed. "I love what you're doing to me."
His pace, the angle of his cock made my inner muscles clench against the sweet friction of his cock.
Ian finally slowed, lowering my legs back down. He hadn't come, but he seemed to want to change the pace, to let this last. He dipped his head to nibble on one taut nipple, then the other. Briefly. Long enough for the combination of cock and teeth to push me one step closer to coming.
He kept his eyes on mine as he shifted again, placing my ankles on his shoulders, keeping his hands there. Squeezed. He knew what he was doing to me, was telling me with actions how he could pleasure me in so many different ways. It was as if he'd fantasized about all of these different positions and wanted to try them all. Tonight. With my legs up so high, the angle of his cock was different. Deep, with a slight bite of pain. I gasped at the altered position, the electrifying stimulation. Was it possible to feel more? Ian groaned his pleasure as well. Sweat dripped from his brow onto the curve of my breast. His jaw clenched. With perfect access to my pussy, he drove his cock home, his balls slapping against the curve of my ass.
His cock couldn't move in and out as quickly as when I was sprawled on his dining table. Ian had to take his time, go temptingly, erotically slow. I felt every hard inch of him sliding in and out. I had no idea I was such a contortionist and was, for the first time, thankful for all those hot yoga classes. I loved it this way, burned with rippling pleasure.
Ian's body was coated in a sheen of sweat, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes boring into mine.
Ian stopped moving all together, holding himself deep. He wiped his brow and offered me a quick grin. "Are ye ready, lass?"
As he spoke, he ran his hand down to our joined bodies, his fingers circling the base of his cock and sliding over my stretched pussy lips. My juices smeared over his fingers and he spread it all around, over my clit and then behind to my back entrance. I startled at the contact. Even after playing with myself as he watched—had I really done that?—it was still a surprise for him to touch me there. With his cock still fully embedded in me, the extra stimulation of his fingers just brushing over the sensitive nerve endings was nearly my undoing.
Carefully, he lowered my legs.
"Roll over, arse over tits."
I laughed at his words, but eagerly did as ordered. As I'd prepared myself for this moment with that ivory dildo the past few weeks—something I would have liked to remember—I was ready. While his touch was surprising, I somehow wasn't scared. It was as if I knew I would love it. I knew that it wouldn't hurt, that Ian wouldn't hurt me. Then, just his finger teasing my ass only added to the overwhelming feelings. Past Lexy may have prepared herself for this, but modern-times Lexy had no idea how amazing it would be. That had just been a hard dildo and a finger. What would it be like with his oversized cock?
Ian grabbed a pillow and stuffed it beneath my hips. It propped me up just as he wanted but allowed me to relax. I really was arse over tits; my ass was high in the air, my cheek, breasts and arms resting on Ian's plaid.
Next, he reached over to a table and retrieved a small glass jar, like the one he'd had in the other room, removed the lid and dipped his fingers into the historic lube. I didn't know what it was, but it had helped with the dildo and I was thankful for it with his cock. Ian worked my pussy, dipping his fingers in me, fucking me all the while he used his other hand to coat my back entrance, ensuring I was completely covered and slick with the lube. I writhed, my body pushing back to deepen the thrust of his fingers, wanting more, ready to come if only his cock was seated fully in my ass.
Ian barely circled my back entrance, only touching me to make me slick, teasing me with the knowledge of what was to come. I was frantic with need, not only from his finger fuck, but from what he wasn't doing, and that was touching, pushing, stretching, filling, fucking my ass.
"Please," I begged. I'd fantasized about this kind of claiming before, so since this was my one night, I didn't care if I begged. I wanted to make my fantasies a reality.
Ian pulled his fingers from my pussy, and I felt empty and lonely.
"Aye, ye're eager enough now." Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as he coated his cock liberally with the lube.
As he did so, I took a deep breath and relaxed, eyes closed, and tried to catch my breath. He was going to fuck me, and I was going to let him.
"Please," I begged again, beyond reason. There was only so much taunting and teasing I could take before I died from the pleasure—or come trying.
"My cock may be too much for you as yet, so I'll stretch you some more with the rod."
He reached over and grabbed it, from where, I had no idea. I didn't really care.
I smiled to myself. "You just want to play."
A light swat on my ass accompanied his words. "Ach, lass, you've been able to play these past three weeks. Now, tis my turn."
Ian's thumb returned to gently rub over my hole, circling, round and round. No pressure, just swirling. I couldn't help but shift my hips on the pillow, hoping my motions would push his thumb in. Instead of doing as I'd wanted, he gave me another swat.
