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My lips grazed her spine. My mouth planted sensuous kisses across her shoulders. My tongue licked into the hollow of her neck.
As I traced the princess’s nipples, she whimpered. When I sketched her crease, she became pliant and delirious. And so ready for her jester.
Brushing my solid cock over the split in her buttocks, I murmured, “Do you trust me?”
She gasped, circling that luscious bottom and seeking friction. “I always trust you.”
A hum danced up my throat. Such a beautiful answer.
I rubbed Briar’s passage with the same satiny oil she’d used on me, then coaxed her backside into the air. With my palms framing her hips and my knees digging into the ground, I marveled at the sight of this woman, her body splayed and stunning.
My cock ached, upright and poised. From behind, I rolled the hard flesh up between her thighs, fitting myself inside that tight hole.
Briar’s light cry turned into a heavy moan. Whereas I struggled to contain my growl, to slide fully into her anus without exploding into movement. Wicked hell, but this woman felt divine.
Because we had practiced, it required merely a few passes to seat my cock. From there, it required only few whisks of my ass to make her writhe.
Tonight, I took more and gave more. Palming the space between her jaw and throat, I pulled the princess’s head into me and kneaded her clit with the other hand. She groaned in startled rapture, the noise reverberating down the fields.
And whilst plying the warm grip of Briar’s opening, I rasped into her shoulder, the sound rumbling from my chest. The echoes twisted together and ruptured into the void, getting lost in the dark landscape.
Briar bowed upward and gripped the blanket. Her freckled ass bent into my waist, her pussy leaking and her body jolting to the steady rhythm of my cock.
As I buried myself and punted into her, shrieks catapulted from the princess’s throat. By Seasons, I made that happen, made her feel this way, made her come with abandon.
Every touch, every outtake, every drop of arousal was mine. Thusly, I claimed what belonged to me, what I bled for, and what she offered.
***
“Here?” I purred as my fingers ghosted over Briar’s ankle.
Shivers danced up her calves. In the firelight, her tongue dragged over her lips, and her head shifted, indicating she was trying to see through the cloth bound over her eyes. “Yes,” she answered, her voice a blend of shyness and intrigue.
Grinning, I praised the heiress with a brush of my mouth against her ankle. It wasn’t the first time I’d used one of my favorite gadgets to trifle with her. We’d done so in Spring, when I introduced the princess to the erotic pleasures of touching, savoring the view as she discovered the places that set her aflame.
Merely a beginning. For I had yet to penetrate deeper, unraveling her to the sensuous core.
Briar reclined across her four-poster bed, offering herself and welcoming the ministrations of my hands. Like a sexual tutor, I alternated between exploring the tantalizing regions of her body and massaging the knots of stress from her muscles, loosening the princess until she melted into the mattress. From there, my palms torched a path over her shins, behind her knees, and to her inner thighs.
“And here?” I murmured, playing the role of instructor. “Answer swiftly, Highness. Say it, or I’ll stop.”
Her voice became faint. Ever the apt pupil, she replied, “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, my jester.”
My mouth tilted. So responsive and obedient.
Her body strained toward my hands, pink mottled her breasts, and her nipples toughened like pellets. Naked, she extended her arms and limbs, exhibiting every curve and dip. Her pussy swelled, fluid dripping from the slim crease.
Perdition, but she was marvelous. I responded with another teasing kiss, this time to her thighs. Whenever we identified another spot that ignited Briar’s blood, I rewarded her with a sweep of my mouth or a lap of my tongue.
Sighs, moans, and whines drifted from her, the noises feathery. Nervous curiosity mingled with those sounds. She arched keenly into the stroke of my palms, the skim of my knuckles, and the flick of my fingers.
This woman, who loathed relinquishing control. This woman, who used to spurn the unknown, unfamiliar, and unpredictable. This woman trusted me.
Like hell would I take that for granted. Addicted and obsessed, I serviced her with more touches over her hips, encircling her tits, and swirling around her nipples.
