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“You can go back to hating me after your orgasm, my lady. I swear it.”
“Except, I don’t—” With a growl, I stopped arguing over his stupid reasoning only to pant hard. I told myself it was anger, but dammit, his arousal was flooding my senses through the mark. It was mucking up my thoughts, making it impossible to outright demand that he leave.
Because if he seemed determined to believe I hated him, then he didn’t deserve my body. But God, I did have need of him. Badly.
“So, what, then…” I taunted; words were my only defense. So I used them as a weapon to stop this madness. “Are you to become my strumpet, like your mother did for your father?”
He didn’t even pause. “If that’s what you wish.” He reached for me and eased the blanket from my fingers. Once the sheet fell away and pooled around my waist, he unlaced the ties to my nightgown, working them free, then sliding cloth up and over my head until I was left naked.
“You don’t have to like me, my lady. And we never have to speak of this night in the light of day if you’d prefer, but you didn’t get to finish, and I’m not going anywhere until you are satisfied.”
“That was a dream,” I gritted out, trying not to react as he expertly moved his hands over me.
I knew I should push him away and tell him to stop. He would desist in an instant. But everything inside me was straining for more. This was my true love.
And I wanted him.
“It might’ve been a dream,” he agreed. “But you’re still wet and throbbing right now, aren’t you? Let me ease your ache.” He barely brushed the backs of his fingers over a bare, straining nipple. “Let me worship my goddess.”
“Oh God,” I moaned, falling back onto the bed and opening my legs. “Complete it, then.”
He crawled on top of me without a word. Remaining upright, he settled his hips between my thighs and guided the head of his penis to me. I shuddered and focused my gaze up toward the ceiling, unable to believe I was letting him do this.
A part of me wanted to claw his eyes out and demand that he go away and leave me alone until he could let me into his heart, and I mean, completely let me in. But the bigger portion needed him inside me. Now.
“Do it,” I ordered.
He thrust. And I started to come around his thickness, my inner muscles contracting hungrily, taking him deep and holding him tight inside me. I slapped a hand over my own mouth and bit down hard on the meat of my palm to keep from screaming my release and waking everyone else in the cottage. But it felt like pure electricity wove through my breasts and between my legs as I climaxed. I screamed anyway.
When I was done, I vaguely noticed that Farrow kept moving, making love to me. I thrashed my head on my pillow, sure I couldn’t take any more.
To be petty and cruel, since he’d talked me into this against my better judgement, and also because I was curious how he’d react, I said, “I’m done. You can stop now.”
He merely looked down into my eyes and quirked his lips into a devilish smile. “Oh, princess,” he said, his voice full of honey and gravel. “You’re not even close to being done yet.”
Then he flipped us around, until he was the one lying on his back and I sat astride him.
Reaching out to balance myself, I flattened my hands onto his six-pack abs. They flexed under my fingers, and I found that he was right; I wasn’t quite done with him after all.
He always felt so good under my touch, though. With skin that was hard and soft in all the right places, he knew how to draw me in, letting me explore to my heart’s content. The cock inside me twitched as the muscles against my fingers tensed, enjoying my attention.
I sucked in a pleasured moan and lifted my hips before coming back down on him, slowly beginning to ride.
I told myself to stop. He didn’t deserve to come tonight. But, oh damn, I’d missed his thickness and warmth in me. Sliding up and down on it, I canted my hips, taking him at different angles until I found my favorite spot. Then I bore down, grinding hard, like a cat rubbing against a tree to get an itch scratched.
“Yes,” I hissed, my nerves coiling again, preparing and building. “God. God,” I started to pant, growing desperate, coming closer to the edge of euphoria. “Farrow…”
“Jesus Christ,” he gasped, bucking up under me and grabbing my ass to help me along.
The tension in me snapped and I started to cry out, the orgasm seizing me unaware. Farrow slapped a hand over my mouth to quiet me, and I sank my teeth into his fingers as I creamed his shaft.
Sweat coated his face, and his eyes looked glazed with madness by the time I settled, but he wasn’t done yet.
Still full and hard inside me, he urged, “One more time, my lady.”
My eyes flared, unable to believe such a thing was possible. But he sat up, anyway, and kissed me, softly at first, then easing his tongue in until our mouths mated. When he pulsed inside me, my thighs clenched around him.
“From behind,” he instructed as he clutched my hips and eased me up and off.
