Wynd Temptress Part 5
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He couldn't believe it. She was still kneeling before him, hand wrapped around his b.a.l.l.s, but as far from him as she could get, looking a little stunned.
He couldn't speak, so paralyzed was he by the blinding loss of sensation. He struggled to draw air into his lungs.
"I'm-" he choked on his words, "-going to f.u.c.king throttle you when I get hold of you." His voice was a harsh rasp.
She finally released him and then with a startled gasp, jumped to her feet and ran out the door.
Chapter Seven.
Jesse climbed into the skimmer, sucking in air from her dash to escape him. He was so strong he had pulled loose the stove leg. If it broke, the rope around his neck would come tumbling down. The rest would be easy.
She worked quickly, punching in the code, telling the skimmer to hurry and hoping the stove leg held.
Despite the fact that he had kidnapped her, she felt a little guilty for tormenting him the way she did and especially for stopping her torture before he reached satisfaction. The code bleeped. She tried to calm herself and concentrate as she punched in the numbers again. She glanced behind her, but there was no sign of him.
And even though he had callously drugged her, picturing his Adonis body shuddering to maintain control made her regret she hadn't used him for her own pleasure.
Watching those work-defined muscles flex and bunch in agony as she toyed with his s.e.x, frustrating him beyond reason, was exciting. Even the scar that slashed across that hard belly was beautiful. The small burns that marred the sensitive skin inside his wrist and behind his ear called to her to soothe them with her lips. It was a warrior's body. And she had examined every gorgeous inch of it.
She sighed with disappointment. But not for long. Because for the third time now, she'd punched in the code he'd given her, and it didn't work.
d.a.m.n! She hit the console with the flat of her palm. d.a.m.n him.
She wanted to murder him. Instead, she spit out a long string of vulgar curses that graphically described all the things she'd like to do to him and then leveled a deadly kick to the console.
"Tsk, tsk, what a mouth," a low voice murmured behind her.
She whipped around to see him leaning against a garage post, his boulder-like arms crossed over that ma.s.sive chest, his eyes heavy-lidded and smoldering. She held her breath, wis.h.i.+ng now she hadn't stripped him, because one look at him had convinced her that he could break her in half with just a flick of his wrist.
She crossed her puny arms over her chest-a chest that couldn't even hold up a strapless top-and glared. "Well..." She moved her eyes over his body. "Took you long enough."
He dropped his arms. "That does it." He lunged for her.
Oh my G.o.d. She scrambled toward the back door, but he locked his hands onto her waist and dragged her back.
She thrashed wildly, kicking and flailing, trying to make contact anywhere she could reach and screaming vicious insults at him.
He got her in a vise grip that pinned her arms to her sides and flattened her back against the rock wall of his chest.
Snagging up one wrist, he twisted it behind her back and then clamped onto the other so hard she thought he'd snap her wrist.
"You make what I'm going to do to you so d.a.m.ned rewarding," he growled in her ear.
She heaved and pulled to no effect, then craned her neck to try to bite him.
He jerked his shoulder away. "Oh no, you don't. It's my turn to do the biting." He turned her roughly, pus.h.i.+ng her ahead of him as he stomped back toward the compound.
"You're hurting me," she lashed out as she stumbled along.
"Am I now?"
"I think you broke my wrist."
He didn't answer, but after a minute he lightened his hold. Just enough that she could slip out of his grip if she waited for the right moment.
Her wrists were small and flexible. With just the right twist at the right time she could escape him.
But to where? She thought a moment. She could hide. The compound was big enough that at least it would buy her time.
He trudged her through the front door and up the long winding stairs to the second floor balcony.
"Where are you taking me?"
"To my own personal torture chamber."
She couldn't let him tie her up. She had to make her move before that.
They swept past several bedrooms until they got to the end of the hall where he pushed her into a lushly carpeted suite with a bed in its center that looked bigger than her entire bedroom at home. Off to one corner sat a sunken tub, the polished tile that surrounded it glinting in the sun that poured in through the circular convex skylights covering the ceiling. A low wall of ornate gaslights surrounded it. And above that, sheets of gla.s.s served as outside walls and showcased the wide expanse of the prairie.
She gawked.
"I'm going to enjoy this," he grumbled, dragging her into the room and stopping before the bed. His lips brushed her ear. "Picture yourself tied to that big bed, legs spread for me, p.u.s.s.y lips hot and glistening, begging to be f.u.c.ked." His erection pressed into her backside and his scent surrounded her.
She gulped down a breath.
Then with a quick snap and twist, she slipped out of his hold, whirled around, and kneed him in the groin.
He doubled over, the breath leaving his lungs in a loud whoosh.
She dashed for the door and almost made it when he caught her ankle in a bone-crus.h.i.+ng grip that sent her cras.h.i.+ng to the floor, flat onto her stomach. He was on her in a flash, crawling up her body and anchoring her with his weight.
"Like I said, I'm going to f.u.c.king throttle you."
She didn't doubt it. After two concussions and an equal number of ball-breakings, she knew she had it coming.
She sighed in defeat, at least for now. There was nothing else she could do, and her body was limp with exhaustion. She cursed herself for being so stupid as to think she could best him in a physical struggle. She'd have to start using her head if she wanted to get out of this. She closed her eyes.
He was breathing hard as he lay on top of her. He had locked his hands with hers and stretched her arms out at her sides. His muscled legs entwined with hers and anch.o.r.ed them down. His chin rested at the top of her head.
She didn't move. And neither did he.
She listened to his breath slow to a steady rhythm. His body heat seeped through her skin, warming her and making her restless, but she kept still. Then she felt his heartbeat pick up until it pounded against her back.
"Jezermiah?"
She didn't answer.
"Are you alive?"
She almost smiled at the hint of real worry in his voice, but still she didn't answer.
A heavy pulse beat against her thigh. He groaned in her ear and rubbed up against her, his pants in contact with her bare legs and bottom, making her aware that her dress had hiked up to her waist. Her panties were still back on the kitchen floor.
She stifled a moan.
He moved her arms up over her head and locked her wrists together with one hand. With his free hand, he palmed her bottom.
The moan she buried bubbled up and spilled over as soon as his rough hands glided over her tender skin.
"I see you're alive," he breathed into her hair.
She ignored him, struggling to resist the feel of his calloused fingertips playing along her backside and his big hand kneading her plump flesh. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but her s.e.x swelled and throbbed, wetting shamelessly.
"You like this," he said, his voice thready with arousal.
She bit back a retort and held her breath.
He slid his fingers between her cheeks and stroked with a teasing touch. l.u.s.t, pure and unbridled, gripped her.
"Don't you?" he taunted.
She wouldn't answer. She couldn't let him know how much he excited her.
"So, that's how it's going to be," he whispered, sliding his lips over her forehead.
She turned from him and buried her face in the carpet. She would not give in to him.
He slid his fingers lower and fluttered them over her s.e.x. "Mmm, wet." He slipped around her aroused flesh, coating himself with her juices. One long finger slipped up between her lips and into her heat. He sighed with satisfaction. "And hot." Against her will, her inner muscles clamped down, trapping him, holding him deep within her body.
"Oh yeah, you like this."
She shook her head, willing up some anger at what he was doing to her, but it wouldn't come.
With a slow agonizing stroke, he slid his wet finger out and slipped it up through her lips just short of her throbbing c.l.i.t. He stroked the swollen tissue that surrounded the tiny kernel but didn't touch it.
She refused to squirm and give him any satisfaction, but she wanted desperately to tip her hips subtly and bring him in contact with that oh-so-tiny organ that held such pleasure. He threaded his fingers through her downy thatch instead, inflaming her, making her want to beg. He gently squeezed the fleshy folds protecting her c.l.i.t, drawing a moan from her lips. Then he slid his thick thumb up her p.u.s.s.y.
"Oh," she breathed before she could stop herself, thankful that the carpet m.u.f.fled her sigh of pleasure.
"I could f.u.c.k you now so easily," he murmured.
Her pulse jumped. He could.
His c.o.c.k was a few quick movements away. Zip, release, and plunge and he'd be in her, impaled to the hilt. Except that he was so big, and she so tight, that it would take more than a stroke to stretch her. She s.h.i.+vered at the thought of him pus.h.i.+ng into her, f.u.c.king her deep.
But for some reason that she couldn't fathom, she knew that he wouldn't do it. At least not now. It wasn't that she was reading his thoughts. He had them carefully blocked. She just knew that he didn't intend to do it now.
"Couldn't I?" he taunted.
She stayed mute, waiting, half hoping.
"But I won't." He gave an agonized groan and then slid his wet thumb up through her folds and probed her bottom.
Oh my G.o.d.
He pushed gently for entrance, his thumb so wet from her shameless arousal that he sank into her easily. She smothered a groan at the pleasure that swept over her. Her whole body came alive with the wicked sensation, every nerve lit and anxious. She blocked the thought of what she must look like with his thick finger buried in her bottom.
He bit her earlobe and began thrusting his hips against her, his breathing choppy, as aroused as she was by what he was doing.
She stifled a whimper and tried to stay still, but it was impossible. She tilted her bottom, thrusting against the penetration, letting the rough pad of his thumb stimulate all her sensitive tissue. He shuddered behind her and then slid a long finger up her c.u.n.t and ma.s.saged and pressed the sensitive pad where his fingers met.
Pleasure rocketed through her like nothing she had ever felt. Her womb contracted hard. She s.h.i.+vered and bucked, thras.h.i.+ng beneath him as he kept up his relentless thrusting and stroking.
"That's it," he groaned. "Oh G.o.d, yes." He bit her neck and then licked where he nipped.
At some point he had released her hands, but nothing mattered now but the white-hot pleasure stripping through her body. She gripped the carpet, her body vibrating with arousal, tightening, screaming for release. He slipped his thumb out, his c.o.c.k bare now, and slipped it over her bottom cheeks, rubbing and teasing her. She stifled a cry of alarm, remembering how big he was.
And then he was pressing for entrance, groaning deep in his throat and probing her tight bottom hole, the pressure and pleasure mixing together to drive her to soaring heights.
"Open for me, baby."
She gave herself over to him and he pushed past her entrance into her bottom with a groan. She screamed with pleasure, yielding to him. He plunged into her, deep, burying to the hilt.
She exploded. First a powerful burst of pleasure that ripped through her, sweeping her under, and then wave after wave of it threading through her body and filling her with a bone-deep satisfaction that had her sobbing into the carpet. Every pulse point throbbed out in pleasure.
"Oh, f.u.c.k," he groaned. "Jesus f.u.c.king Christ." His big body shuddered around her. He was so deep, he felt like an earthquake erupting inside her as he pumped his seed into her.
If this wasn't heaven, it was close.
She collapsed under him and sighed.
"Jez?"
She couldn't answer him if she wanted to.
"Are you all right, Jez? Jesus. I never intended... Look at me."
It was the last thing she remembered before she drifted off into blissful unconsciousness.
Wynd Temptress Part 5
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Wynd Temptress Part 5 summary
You're reading Wynd Temptress Part 5. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Kathryn Anne Dubois already has 576 views.
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