Mr. Beautiful (Up in the Air #4)(36)
Author: R.K. Lilley

I dragged the skirt of her dress up and pressed hard against her from behind.  I didn’t take anything off, just pulled my heavy erection out, pushed her panties to the side, grabbed each end of the crop, pulling it out of her mouth and dragging it down flush against her hips, using it as a handle with both of my hands, taking some of the pressure off her shoulders in this position, and started f**king her hard.

She was already sopping the second I made contact with her, but it wasn’t a smooth ride.  It was jerky, frenzied, and quick.  I jarred into her at a pace meant to take  her over the edge, and myself in the process, the tight press inside of her squeezing and sucking at me with each desperate thrust.

I hit the end of her, poured my seed into her womb as she clenched and milked me with her own orgasm, and started again.

I took her arms down, used the armbinder to fasten her arms in front of her now, and rigged them up above her head, pulling them high and securing them there.

I released her from the spreader, straightened, wrapped her legs around my waist, and shoved into her again.

I gripped a hand in her hair, the other cupping her cheek, and stared into her eyes as I took her again.

I went much longer this time, rutting in her for long minutes, lost in her eyes.  They were pale windows to her soul, and I saw straight to it, with no impediments.  It was the most intimate joining.

She was my sin and my temple.  I both worshipped and defiled there.  Gloried and desecrated.  Revered and debased.

In her, I’d found my own earthly paradise.

"You’re mine, Mrs. Cavendish," I told her, voice full of wonder.

"Yes," she breathed, "yes, Mr. Cavendish, and you’re mine."

I arched my back and came, eyes never leaving her.

I f**ked her, made love to her, again and again, c**k marking her as mine, filling her with my se**n, greedy in the claiming and the taking.

Eventually, I relented and led her, with mussed hair, a wrinkled gown, and on unsteady legs back to our celebration, hand in hand, sated and content.

I felt so complete, so content in my bones, so lucky.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

MY PARADISE

The honeymoon was tailor fit to my own personal idea paradise.

Five days.  No staff.  Not a soul but us on an island that belonged to me.

She was not allowed clothes, not even at meals.

I lost myself in her softness.  Completely and forever.

We wallowed in each other, for days, the perfect celebration of our union.

The first day was a delight of the senses, and I reveled in her body until she was beyond begging for mercy.

At one point she went limp.  I’d gotten carried away, and she’d fainted.

I panicked a bit, but got her to rouse and sat her up, so relieved and remorseful that I shook with it.

"My apologies.  I forgot myself.  Are you okay?"

She said she was.

I let her rest.

The second day we slept, got up once to eat, I lazily got her off with my tongue, and we slept some more.

Day three we walked along the beach for hours, spilling all of our secrets and dancing na**d along the sand.  It was a joyful outpouring of our souls, one of the most memorable and profound days of my life.

We made love on the beach and got sand in some interesting places.

We went out into the water, our na**d forms joined together as the cool water lapped against us.  I held her for hours like that, watching the sea and the sky and marveling at the wonder of life.

The fourth day we walked to a hidden lagoon.  We spent the day swimming and lazing away the hours.

The fifth day we barely left the bedroom.

I left her sleeping for but five minutes, to get us cups of water, and came back starved for her, as though we’d been apart for days instead of minutes.

I sat carefully beside her sleeping form.

I bent over her, brushing her lips with mine, then slowly, slipping my tongue in her mouth.

She started when she woke, but quickly settled into the kiss.  I moaned when she started sucking on my tongue.

I shifted, holding her face to mine as I swept my tongue across her lips.  I pulled back slightly to look into her sleepy eyes.

I slipped my fingers down to her mound, rubbing them lazily through her soft folds.

She shifted, a flush rising to her cheeks.

I found her cl*t with my index finger and circled it.  I felt it swell under my touch.

"Did you miss me?" I asked her, rubbing more firmly.

"Yes, and no."

"Both?  Why both?"

"Yes, because of this."  She gasped as I pushed a finger into her.  "No, because I needed a bit of sleep."

I smiled.  She had a good point.  I’d been an animal, claiming her body in every conceivable way, day and night, since she’d become legally mine.

Speaking of which.

I stood up beside the bed, looming over her, wearing nothing but white linen trousers and heavy lidded desire.

"Sit up," I told her.  "Take it out," I ordered, nodding down at the prominent bulge at the front of my pants.

She obeyed, looking dazed, eyes glazed with passion.

Her fingers fumbled with the ties, the side of her wrist brushing against my erection.  I pushed it harder against her, clenching my jaw, holding back a groan when she freed it, and it jutted out at her, inches from her face.  A whisper from her mouth.

Bianca took a deep breath, as though inhaling it.

I was fully erect, swelled to my full size, the broad head of my c**k stretching toward her parted lips.

She licked those luscious lips and stared like she was starving.

My balls tightened, hard length jerking restlessly, then bobbing with the bounce of its own weight.

She gasped when a drop of pr**cum spilled out the aching head, glancing up at me, as though asking for permission.

I pushed my h*ps forward that last little bit.  "Lick it," I ordered her roughly.

With happy sigh, she lapped at it with her soft pink tongue.  The look of bliss on her face was gratifying, to say the least. She continued to lick it clean with slow, concentrated zeal until I told her to stop.

She pulled back, staring at my cock, another spurt of liquid rewarding her attention.

She bit her lips and looked up at my face, as though asking for permission.

I nodded.  "Go ahead.  Lick it clean again."

She obeyed with long, slow swipes of her tongue.  I clenched my jaw, hands made into fists.

She pulled back, and more pr**cum dribbled over to tempt her.

"There’s more," I said roughly.  "Lick it all up.  Every drop."

With a moan, she lapped it up.