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Isabelle thought she was prepared for pleasure, but the idea of giving up control, allowing Dorian to do has he wished, suddenly seemed overwhelming and foreign. She had been the dominant partner. She was the one who pleasured.
She didn’t know how to give in or how to let go of her carefully measured seduction.
He held her tight. “What do you like, Isabelle? Tell me.”
“No. I—”
His finger slid farther, invading her. Circling. “Mmm, there. What are you thinking about?” The change in his voice sent shivers through her. It was a voice she could dream about.
She closed her eyes. She’d been sexual with many men, but never intimate. They didn’t know her. They didn’t get to be personal.
“There’s no hurry. I’m patient. Were you thinking about my cock inside you?”
Slowly he circled. There was no air in the room. She couldn’t breathe. She heard the rumble of laughter in his chest.
“You won’t admit it, but you like a nice cock. I can tell. I won’t disappoint you. What else do you like?”
Isabelle clutched his hand, trying to pull him away, but the soft stroking had her mind in a daze. He was supposed to throw her on to the bed and use her. Simple. She had assumed that’s what he would do, at least until she was ready for more.
What he was doing wasn’t simple. “You need to stop. Let me—”
“Let you what? Suck my cock dry in two minutes? Is that what you did for your last lover?”
She squirmed under his hand. A finger slid deep. Then a second one followed. “Oh Isabelle,” he said, honey and sex dripping from his voice, “you’ve a nice little cunt here. You’re tighter than I thought you’d be. Feel that? Now you’re wet. Hmm, I think you enjoy talking about it too. Do you, Isabelle?” he whispered. “Do you like it when I talk about fucking you? Filling you with a cock that won’t give out in ten minutes?”
He brushed away the silky material, allowing it to pool around her waist.
She forced her eyes open only to see her bare legs dangling over the arms of the chair while his hands coaxed her into submission. He’d leaned back, bringing her to rest against him while his fingers touched her intimately. His other hand stroked from her knee along the outside of her thigh.
Control. She had to take control of the situation. With others, there had been no warmth or reciprocal attention—she serviced her lovers thoroughly while keeping her mind on the task.
In her imagination, she’d seen Dorian naked. She wanted to lie with him, touch him, allow him inside her body while they shared long kisses in a candlelit room. This was wrong for her. This breathless taking.
Just as she prepared to vault from his lap, his free hand grasped her shoulder and pulled her to his body. He turned her so her back was to his chest. He lifted her other leg, letting it dangle over the other arm of the chair. She was spread in a revealing, susceptible pose, her cunt open to the heat of the fire.
“Relax,” he said.
She had no choice once his arm encircled her waist. Her heart pounded in her ears and the heat from the fire warmed her bare legs. She pushed the rail down to cover the colorful surprise on her thigh. He had yet to acknowledge the smooth expanse of her mons.
That might have had something to do with the hard erection she felt pressed against her bottom. She rubbed against his covered cock in an attempt to distract him, to control him.
Still his fingers explored. This was her fault, craving a man who had a reputation as a seducer.
“What are your desires, Isabelle? Do you want me to be your slave while you beat me? Do you want me to inflict pain?” His finger circled her sensitive nub and he bit at her ear. “Do you want me to take you from behind, hard and deep, while you scream with want? Do you want pleasure in new ways? Tell me.” His hands melted away, finding their way up her body to knead her breasts with slow, soft movements of his flexible fingers. “Or do you wish to take me in your mouth and tease me with your tongue until I spill down your throat?”
Her body, so used to the quick, unskilled hands and bodies of her previous lovers, seemed disobedient to her thoughts. She did not like to be out of control, or worse, under someone else’s. She hadn’t imagined this.
But she couldn’t stop her thoughts from following along with his suggestions, imaging him doing those delightful things and her being the willing vessel to his desire.
