Chapter Twenty-Two #3
She smiled, running her hand up his bandages to his unwrapped chest. “As you say, sire,” she whispered.
She started at his neck, kissing him softly, running her tongue over his flesh, suckling his earlobe until he moaned with frustration.
She delighted in his massive chest, kissing and licking him, working around the bandages and loving every moment of it.
The terror of the day was still with her and her movements and actions were her way of telling him how glad she was that he was still alive, and still hers. And he understood every word.
She straddled him and her mouth, her hair, caressed his lower abdomen, below the bandages. Her tongue invaded his navel and he shuddered, the fingers of his good hand entwining in her luxurious hair. Her mouth went lower and lower and he felt her hot little hands timidly grasp his huge organ.
“Does it hurt if I hold you like this?” she asked.
He lifted his head weakly and looked at her, her hair was wild, covering her entire body and her lips were red and swollen. If he could have managed any one feat at that moment, he would have taken her in his arms and bed her until she fainted.
“Nay,” he rasped. “It feels wonderful.”
She looked down at his throbbing manhood, running her hands up and down the length of it. “Can I kiss you there?”
“Please.” He lay his head back down on the pillow, anticipation filling him.
The very moment her hot lips touched him, he thought he was going to spill. But he restrained himself with every ounce of strength, feeling her become bolder by the moment.
“Dustin, do you know how I put my tongue in your mouth?” he whispered. “Pretend that my organ is my tongue.”
“Put it in my mouth?” she asked with surprise.
“If you wish to, then do it,” he responded quietly.
She put her mouth around him, uncertainly at first, but with growing confidence as she moved her tongue around him, running it under the ridge of the head. He stifled a moan as she plunged her whole mouth down on him and drew up slowly, sucking him hard.
“Christ,” he shuddered. “I shall explode if you do that again, sweetheart, I swear it.”
She grinned, arrogant with the power she held over him. “Do you like it? Truly?”
“Truly,” he whispered in response, never more sincere in his life.
So she did it again and again until he yanked her hair roughly, pulling her up.
They were breathing heavily with want, sweat already coating their bodies as Dustin crawled over him, bringing her lips to bear on his again, kissing him wildly.
His hand was still entangled in her hair as if to never let her go.
With eager, shaking hands, Dustin grasped his massive shaft and straddled him, slowly lowering herself onto him as she had done once before. As slick as she was, it still took her two tries to completely embed him within her tight little body and they both released moans of pure ecstasy.
As weak as he was, Christopher had never felt more pleasure and his explosive release came within seconds.
Dustin, however, was still in full passion and continued to move up and down on him, relishing the fullness of him within her.
She could feel herself building to her peak when he reached down and manipulated her taut bud of womanhood expertly, bringing her to climax in a burst of stars.
When her cries of pleasure ceased and her body went warm and weak, she fell beside him and cuddled up to his musky body. He cradled her tightly, wishing he could do more than simply hold her against him.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked softly.
He was so weary and relaxed he was very nearly asleep. “Nay, sweet love, you did not. ’Twas a thoroughly miraculous experience, one I hope to repeat nightly. Go to sleep now.”
She squirmed against him a moment longer as she got comfortable, finally sighing with contentment.
It was a beautiful end to the most harrowing day of her life, but she was willing to put it behind her as long as Christopher was safe and in her arms. Within minutes, she was in a deep, dreamless sleep.
Christopher felt her go entirely limp against him, so desperately tired yet not quite able to fall back asleep yet.
What Dustin had done to him, with him, was still in his mind and he relived it for a moment.
Her hands, her mouth, her incredible body lingered in his brain and he considered himself so unbelievably fortunate to have her.
’Twas but one more reason to be loyal and grateful to Richard, had it not been for the man’s insistence, he would have never married Arthur Barringdon’s daughter.
Dustin snored softly in her sleep and he smiled, caressing her with his right hand. “Dustin?”
She was asleep, unable to answer him and he knew it. Yet his feelings for her would not be stopped and were brimming to be expressed. She could not hear him to know precisely how weak he was and, somehow, he felt safe with the knowledge. And terribly cowardly.
“I love you,” he whispered, stoking her soft arm. “More than life, sweetheart, I love you.”
Dustin snored on into the night.