AllFreeNovel
Share Us
God, he wanted her to use him.
As if she heard his silent plea, she took him in her hand again, and guided him through her slick folds until the tip of his cock kissed the entrance of her vagina. She was tight. The end was thick, and he didn’t want to hurt her. Apparently she didn’t care about that very much. She pushed down and onto him, forcing the head into her. Arthur watched her closely, her chin lifting and her breasts rising and falling with her breaths, and the little wince around her mouth and her eyes but then came a sound…a murmur of pleasure as she slid herself down onto him. Her body opened to receive him though it was a slow process of sliding up and down the length of him, working it into her.
Yes, she was wet, wet, and scalding hot inside but narrow. Her inner muscles squeezed around him as her passage enveloped him inch by inch.
With her hands on his chest for balance, she moved her hips, rising and falling on her knees. Every undulation sent waves of pleasure through him. The heat of her around him, engulfing him…he couldn’t help but move under her, pumping his hips into her. Then they were fucking, really and truly and thoroughly fucking. She wasn’t just fucking him. Even with his hands tied, he was fucking her. He pushed his heels into the bed and lifted his hips, thrusting his cock up and into her from below. Her head fell back, exposing her bare throat. He wanted to lick her from the center of her chest to the tip of her chin until he met her mouth in the hottest kiss in history. That she denied him the kiss made it even hotter. This was pure unadulterated fucking they were doing, without tenderness or emotion. Just the thick inches of his cock spearing her as she rode him.
Her fingernails dug lightly into his chest as she pumped, slowly at first and then faster. The pressure built in his hips, in his stomach, down the back of his thighs. He strained against the cords on his wrists as she leaned back and grabbed his thigh. Thank God she hadn’t blindfolded him, he thought as he watched his own cock splitting her, disappearing through the soft curls and into that hot little cavern that captured him and held him inside her.
Two fingers found her own clitoris and she stroked it. Arthur envied those fingers. He wanted to touch her clitoris and her cunt, put his fingers into her and open her up, explore inside of her. But for now he had to be content to lay there and let her ride his cock for her own pleasure. And he was happy to do it as long as her face was flushed like that, a blazing rose, and she kept making those pained sounds of pleasure, those pleased sounds of pain.
The bedroom was an oven. They were both sweating and slick and their bodies were soon so tightly joined together, sealed like hot wax, that there was no telling where he ended and she began. She ground herself into him, moving her pelvis in tight ovals that let his cock move even deeper into her.
She opened up completely for him and he felt the tip press against the entrance of her womb. Her head fell back again, and she worked herself hard and fast, rubbing her clitoris, pumping her hips. Her breaths were fast and labored and small cries escaped her mouth, cries of pleasure that would ring in his ears for days.
Arthur watched her. She was there, almost there…and then she came with quick tight contractions all around his length. She clutched him so hard, his shoulders came off the bed and he came inside her without warning. It was sudden—the muscles in her squeezing him, like the tug of a hand. Shocked by the sudden pleasure, he released into the core of her, filling her with spurt after spurt of his semen.
His orgasm was blinding. He felt a completion like he’d never experienced before. As Regan came to rest on top of him, his cock still inside her, he took huge deep breaths, swallowing air. Her hands were on the bed, her head hung down, the tip of her plait fell over her shoulder and brushed his stomach.
Slowly she lifted her head. He felt her vagina giving its final little flutters and gasps around him.
“Remind me, Brat…who was that for—you or Charlie?”
He was too spent to lie.
“For you,” he said.
Her eyes widened suddenly—suddenly and subtly, but he saw he’d gotten to her. She wore the look of a woman who’d just had a glass of water thrown on her face without warning. Or been kissed by a stranger. Or slapped by a friend.
She rose up and his softening penis slipped out of her and dripped onto his stomach. She wrapped her kimono quickly, carelessly around her, then reached over his head and untied his wrists.
“Are we…are we done?” he asked, surprised and a little wounded to be set free so fast.
“Get dressed,” she said, and stood with her back to the fireplace mantel, her arms crossed over her chest. “When I want you again, I’ll contact you. Fly away home now.”
She waved her hand to dismiss him, and then waited by the mantel as he dressed in front of her, awash with embarrassment, hurt. They’d been so close only a few minutes ago that they couldn’t have been any closer, and now she was so far away she might as well have been in another world.
He held his shoes to his stomach. He’d put them on when he was downstairs. “Did I do something wrong?”
She wouldn’t look at him. She looked at the bed where they’d just fucked.
“I haven’t had good sex in years and I’m not going to be...” She paused as if reaching for words. “I won’t be young forever. I bought you to fuck you, not to fall in love. So get used to it.”
“Did you ever get used to it? Your gilded cage?”
Now she looked at him—a quick glance that revealed a wound as deep or deeper than his own.
“No.”
He didn’t know what else to say. Arthur slipped out of the golden bedroom and went down the stairs, put on his shirt, jacket, and shoes. He left The Pearl.
In a daze, he drove to the Piccadilly townhouse and parked in the drive. Almost midnight. He stepped out of his car and into the cold night. The street was dark and quiet, the ancient elms covered the moon, the soaring townhouses of the rich and the powerful blocked out the faraway lights of the city. A cold wind blew through him. Dry autumn leaves scratched and skittered across the brick walk to the backdoor. The air smelled damp and cloying, the corpse of summer rotting underfoot, a scent he usually loved—the scent of autumn. Tonight, however, it troubled him. Everything troubled him—how it had happened, why it had happened, how it had ended…and how much he’d liked it.
God, he’d liked it.
Arthur found his way to his bed in the dark. Although he knew he really ought to take a shower—he was covered with the fluids of sex, his and hers—he simply stripped naked and slid under the covers, the cotton sheets cool against his burning body.
The question Regan asked him echoed in his mind.
