AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Nobody. You know the Godwicks. We’re one big happy whoring family.”
Regan stared him down, but he refused to be goaded into answering. “Do you want to keep glaring at me,” he asked, “or do you want me to make you come?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” she said and finally smiled. Then she grabbed him hard by the chin, hard enough he knew she’d leave red marks from the rough grip of her fingers. “But make it good.”
He met her eyes. “I’ll make it good.”
* * *
Gently,he pressed his mouth to her stomach and felt the soft muscles fluttering. His hands found her ankles, fragile and birdlike. He stroked up her bare legs, up her calves, up her thighs, under her little black dress to her little black lace pants underneath. He held her soft small arse in his hands, kissed her stomach through her dress and slowly pulled her knickers down. When they were at her ankles, she lightly kicked them aside. Then she stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed.
She crooked her finger and he crawled across the floor. It was only a yard, but it felt like a mile on a public street, just from the humiliation of it. The delicious humiliation.
It was worth it for the reward at the finish line, to push her thighs apart and press between them. He lifted the skirt of her dress and tucked it under her to keep it out of his way. There she was, the soft light brown hair on her mound and the seam he’d touched and fucked but hadn’t tasted yet. He buried his face against her warm thighs, inhaling the light musky scent of her arousal. He kissed the curls of her sex as he pushed her legs wider. His fingers found the slit of her vulva and he stroked it slowly, carefully. Then he opened the folds, parting them like petals. And theywerelike petals, silky and warm as if in sunlight.
He spread the folds of her labia wider. His mouth watered. Lowering his head, he pressed his tongue to her vulva, tasting his first drop of her. One drop wasn’t enough, so he licked her, drawing his tongue up and receiving as his reward Regan’s arm around the back of his head, her hand in his hair.
“More,” she said, a quiet and gentle order. She wanted more, and she would get more.
Arthur cupped her bottom again and tilted her toward him. She accommodated, spreading her legs farther apart on the bed so that her thighs fell wide, wide open.
The light from the bedside lamp showed her cunt in all its glory as he pulled the labia apart again, spreading them open. Regan’s breathing quickened. She liked this, being opened, being seen. Had her old husband even been able to fuck her, or had he just kept her on his arm to make the world think he could satisfy a woman like Regan?
Her clitoris was hidden under a little shield of skin. He lightly rubbed around it, the tips of his two fingers on either side, kneading it in circles. She inhaled a long breath and held it. The tight knot of flesh swelled under his touch and in the lamplight he could see the clitoris itself starting to come out from hiding. As carefully as he could, he pulled that hood of flesh back, exposing the tiny knot. He brought the very, very tip of his tongue to it. Regan gasped at the gentle contact. He licked it again, a little harder and then again, again, again. Her clitoris swelled more, blooming before his eyes.
He pushed a finger inside her. She was slick and scalding hot. He needed more of that heat on him. He pushed in a second finger, then a third. Was there anything more exquisite than her open cunt wrapped around his hand? If she’d been more open, he might have tried working his entire fist inside of her. But she was too taut, too tight. He pushed against the clenching muscles inside her and they pushed back.
“Are you seeing this, Lord Malcolm?” Regan said. She was speaking to the painting, but her gaze was locked on Arthur’s eyes. “You see how your family has fallen? You used to buy women for your pleasure like a boy in a candy shop, and now your heir is worshipping at the cunt of the great-granddaughter of a whore.”
Her arrogant tone was like petrol tossed on a fire. Arthur’s cock throbbed inside his pants. As he licked her cunt, he unzipped his jeans, freed his erection from the confines of his clothes. He wanted to climb on her, mount and enter her…but he didn’t, of course, though the urge to fill her was painfully strong, to release into her ropes of thick white come and then to pull out and watch his own semen drip out of her…
Arthur kissed a path up her body, up her belly, coming up high on his knees and kissing her neck. He took the long string of pearls around her neck and started to take them off of her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You told me to make it good.”
She gave him a look but didn’t argue and surrendered her pearls to him. Her face was flushed. Her pupils were so wide and dilated, she had black irises, just as she’d wanted.
He kissed her once on the mouth, letting her taste herself before going down on his knees again.
The pearls were heavy in his hand. True saltwater pearls, a fortune in pearls. He poured them into his hand, and they filled his entire fist.
He pushed her thighs open again, kissed and licked her clitoris until she was moaning. But it wasn’t enough to make her moan. He wanted her to scream.
Arthur began to push the pearls into her cunt.
At first it was clear she didn’t understand what he was doing. Then at once, she rose up on her elbows. She didn’t say anything, didn’t stop him, just watched. He glanced at her and saw her face, her eyes, looking at her own open cunt, her thighs wide, heels braced on the edge of the bed.
Pearl by pearl, inch by inch, he pushed the strand into her, filling her hole with enough pearls to pay a year’s rent on a two-bedroom flat in Mayfair. And she let him.
She lay back as more pearls filled her, too many to count. She lay back and let him push the entire long strand into her. It took time. God knows how long, but she lay there and panted while he did it, panted and pulled at the bedcovers. He saw her fingers nearly tearing the silk as she twisted her hands into the fabric.
“Too much?” he asked.
“Too much. It’s perfect.”
And that was Regan. Enough was not enough. Too much was perfect. He pushed in the last of the loop. Her lips were wide apart, her hole as dilated as her eyes. The small shining white beads were visible inside her, her inner muscles expanding and contracting to accommodate them. He pressed his hand flat over her opening to keep them from being pushed out.
