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She stripped back her jacket and loosened the white muslin shirt layered beneath it, pulling it up over her head. The air hit her arms and she dropped the shirt behind her with her spencer. Three buttons about her waist to loosen her heavy wool skirt and it dropped to the bed to puddle about his thighs.
Stepping backward out of the mess of cloth, she bent forward and stretched out to pick her skirt from his body, letting her knuckles graze his member as she lifted it from his body.
A gasp. A low and guttural gasp. He swallowed hard, his eyes closing for a long breath.
“Open your eyes, Dom.”
His lashes cracked to her.
“I’m not stripping for me. I’m stripping for you, so I’d rather have you watch.”
A large lump travelled through his throat. “Even if you’re killing me, Karta?”
“Especially if I’m killing you, Dom.”
He shook his head, his dark blue eyes opening wide to her.
Her skirt gone, she loosened the back of her short stays and flicked them off to the side of the bed.
Just her chemise left.
Her fingers light, she pushed one strap free from her shoulder, then the other. The silky cloth fell, catching against her curves as it dropped to folds about her feet.
He exhaled the longest, most agonized breath, and the quiver in his body deepened.
Naked, standing before him, his stare ravenous on her, she couldn’t deny the fact that this was just as much torture for her. That she needed him deep inside her. Her folds were more than wet, more than ready for him. And she didn’t know how much more willpower she had.
Sinking to her knees, she dropped forward to bury her hands into the bed along the outside of his thighs. She started to crawl up him, her face dipping low, her cheek rubbing along the tight, smooth skin of his shaft. Her mouth went down, her tongue flickering across the tip of him and then moving onto his lower abdomen. A circle with her tongue and she moved up his belly. Along the ridges of his muscles, tasting the salty sheen of sweat brimming across his body.
She craned her neck to look up at him, her eyes hooded. “How much more can you take, Dom?”
His wrists jerked against the bindings. Her knots held. “Don’t ask me that—hell—I need you. I need you now, Karta.”
The pain, the want, the carnal demand in his voice nearly did her in.
Instead, she managed to settle her legs on either side of his hips and she pulled herself upright. Wrapping her right hand about his member, she pulled it tall, settling the tip of it at her entrance.
He wanted to thrust upward. She could feel him—see him—fighting it. Fighting it with every muscle in his body.
This was all her decision and he wasn’t about to take that away from her.
She put him out of his torture.
Sliding down onto him in one fluid motion, she took him deep, letting the width of him stretch her more than should have been possible.
A groan, still striving for control, erupted from his lips.
She lifted herself, then slid down him again, a panting scream bubbling from her own chest.
“Hell, Karta, faster.”
She was already there. Lifting herself and descending in smooth strokes, his body slamming into hers, fast into the core of her. Over and over.
He lifted his hips from the bed, angling himself so every drive went deeper, grinding into the crux of her.
His groan turned into a roar, the sound twisting with the scream leaving her lips. Twisting with the pitch of her body as she slammed into him one last time, sending her over the precipice. She held tight, her body clasped fast to his, her hips twisting out of control with each brutal wave that took her, slamming her over the edge again and again.
His roar hit a pitch and his body writhed under her, lifting her high off the bed, the warmth from him a hot rush filling her deep.
