31. Kaisner #2
“Are you sure about this?” I growl against her ear, my voice rough with restraint. “Once we start, there’s no going back.”
“Yes,” she gasps, breathless, her fingers fisting the baize beneath her. “I want you… more than… anything…”
She bites her bottom lip, and then, in a whisper that detonates inside me— “Fuck me senseless, Kaisner.”
Lightning ignites in my veins, raw and electric, surging straight to my core.
Any last thread of patience snaps. I seize her mouth in a ravenous kiss, my tongue claiming hers as our bodies fuse together, heat against heat.
My hardness strains against my boxers, aching to sink inside her, to brand her as mine. But I’m not in a hurry. Not yet.
This is her first time. Our first time.
And I’ll make damn sure she remembers every second.
I kiss a path down her frame—her breasts, the hollow between them, lower still—my lips mapping her skin with slow, deliberate reverence.
She arches beneath me, a symphony of gasps and shivers, her body pleading for more.
I savor her response, how she blooms under my touch, trembling on the precipice of pleasure she’s never known.
And I intend to ruin her for anyone else.
Sliding a hand down the arch of her spine, I slip her panties off, the lace whispering against her skin before falling away like a discarded secret.
My mouth follows in its wake, trailing fire along her neck, across her collarbone, to her cleavage.
Clarissa writhes beneath my touch, her soft moans threading through the air like a melody meant only for my ears.
I reach behind her and unhook her bra, the delicate scrap of lace slipping from her shoulders and joining the rest of her clothing in forgotten abandon.
Her breasts spill free—perfect, aching for my attention.
I take my time, teasing the taut peaks with slow, deliberate strokes of my tongue, savoring the way her breath catches, the way her fingers curl into the baize.
I pause, drinking her in.
She is a vision of temptation against the emerald green, her skin luminous in the dim light, every curve and hollow sculpted by the shadows.
Mine.
Lifting her legs over my shoulders, I spread her open and descend, claiming her with my mouth.
A sharp gasp leaves her lips, her fingers fisting the felt as my tongue explores every secret inch of her.
She tastes like sin and surrender, like something I’ll never get enough of.
I drag my tongue over that sweet bundle of nerves, and her body arches in offering, a strangled moan tearing from her throat.
“More,” she begs, a low cry. “I need more.”
I chuckle mischievously, my fingers tracing patterns on her skin. “I want to hear you beg. Say it—say you need me to ruin you,” I say, my voice firm but gentle.
The quiet whimper of her obedience, the breathless anticipation in her eyes—it carves through me like a blade made of fire and pleasure.
Her scent—arousal tinged with the faintest trace of her expensive perfume—floods my senses, fueling my hunger. I grip her thighs tighter, holding her still as I push her closer to the edge, my tongue flicking and stroking in a rhythm that has her breath coming in desperate, uneven gasps.
She writhes against me, her hips undulating, searching for more, chasing that final push into oblivion.
And I am determined to take her there.
I slide two fingers inside her, slow at first, stretching her, letting her feel every deliberate inch.
She breathes sharply, her body arching into me, her hands desperately seeking a hold on the baize.
I find that perfect spot within her, curling my fingers just so, and a choked cry spills from her lips, raw and unrestrained.
I smirk against her inner thigh, reveling in the way she unravels for me. My other hand roams freely, trailing fire across her skin—cupping the curve of her breast, rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, teasing until she’s writhing, desperate for more.
My focus is singular, my hunger absolute. Her pleasure is mine to command.
She moans again, the sound low and breathless, and I know she’s close. Her thighs quiver beneath my grip, her body tightening around my fingers, her breath coming in ragged little gasps.
I increase the pace, my tongue flicking over that swollen, sensitive nub with relentless precision, driving her toward the edge with every stroke, every calculated movement.
And then, she shatters.
A cry tears from her throat, her back bowing in offering, her body seizing around my fingers as pleasure consumes her. The sight of her—flushed, undone, trembling in my arms—is nearly enough to wreck me.
I draw it out, coaxing her through the aftershocks, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her thighs as the tension in her muscles slowly eases. She exhales a shuddering breath, the sound half a purr, her hands threading lazily through my hair.
“That was…” she whispers, her voice thick with pleasure. “Divine.”
A slow, satisfied grin spreads across my lips.
But I’m far from done with her.
Withdrawing my fingers from her slick heat, I bring them to my mouth, tasting her, savoring her essence. Sweet and decadent, warm and intoxicating. My blood sings with the primal need to claim her, to bury myself deep and make her mine in every way.
I position myself between her parted thighs, and drag the tip of my aching length through her slick folds, teasing her, tormenting us both.
She gasps, her body jerking in response, her hips tilting ever so slightly, inviting me in.
I hover at her entrance, my restraint hanging by a thread.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” I murmur, my voice thick with need.
Her eyes meet mine, pupils blown wide.
“Yes,” she breathes, and that single word is my undoing.
I push inside her, slow and deliberate, savoring the exquisite stretch as her body yields to me.
A sharp gasp parts her lips, her fingers tightening against my shoulders.
She’s fire incarnate—hotter than sin, tighter than restraint.
I sink deeper, her heat clenching around me, the sensation so raw, so consuming, it borders on agony.
“Hold still,” I pant out, rough as my grip on her hips tightens. “I’m going to make you feel every inch of me.”
Her nails rake down my back, drawing a guttural sound from my throat. She rises into me, wild and untamed, chasing more, urging me past restraint.
“Faster,” she breathes, a demand, not a plea. I answer with action, driving into her with a primal rhythm that speaks of possession, of dominance.
Clarissa is everywhere—her scent, her heat, how she moans my name like a benediction. I give her what she craves, our bodies moving together in a violent, perfect synchrony, the push and pull of our pleasure an unrelenting force.
A frustrated whimper escapes her as I withdraw, but I silence her with a firm grip on her waist. Before she can protest, I flip her onto her stomach, dragging her hips up until she’s aligned with me, her spine arching in invitation.
I sheath myself inside her once more, this time deeper, harder. A strangled cry tears from her lips as she braces against the table, her knuckles whitening against the green baize.
Her moans melt into the crackling warmth of the hearth, the scent of sex mingling with woodsmoke and something else—dark and unyielding.
She pushes back against me, seeking, demanding. I grip her hips with bruising force, holding her exactly where I want her.
“Look at you,” I rasp, leaning over her, my lips tracing the curve of her shoulder, my breath scorching her ear. “Taking me so damn well.”
She keens, her back bowing as I drag my hand up her spine, relishing the delicious tremor beneath my touch. She hisses through gritted teeth as I thrust into her, deep and merciless. Her body tightens around me, her voice breaking on a gasp.
“Oh yes… Right there!” she pants, guiding my rhythm with desperate need.
“You’re mine,” I snarl, punctuating each punishing thrust. “Every breath, every moan—mine.”
“Kaisner—!”
A growl rumbles through me, low and primal. I fist her hair, tilting her head back until her neck is bared to me, a silent offering.
“Say it,” I demand, my lips grazing her pulse, sensing the wild flutter beneath my tongue.
Tears jewel her lashes, her breath catching in a fractured sob of pleasure.
“Yours.”
The single word nearly shatters me. My control frays, unraveling at the seams. With a predator’s grin, I drive into her relentlessly, each thrust branding her, staking my claim.
Our bodies collide, the slick heat between us igniting like a struck match. The air thickens, humid with our ragged gasps, our moans blending into the warm hush of the room.
Her nails scrape along the green baize, a sharp contrast to the velvet friction between us. She cries my name like a plea, like a prayer.
“I’m... so... close...” she whimpers, her voice breaking at the brink of ecstasy.
“You’ll only come when I say so.” My tone is harsher now, unwavering. “Do you understand?”
“Uh-huh,” she moans.
A low, rumbling growl of approval rolls through my chest as she obeys without question—there’s no feeling in the world like the sight of her surrendering to my will.
“You’ll take every command I give you—because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” I slow, dragging my hands over her sweat-slicked skin, teasing. The very tips of my fingers brush her trembling thighs, so close yet just out of reach.
“Tell me what you want, Liebes ,” I murmur in her ear, my voice a deep, gravelly promise.
She writhes against me, desperate. “More,” she whimpers. “I want... more.”
A growl vibrates in my chest, thick with hunger.
I slip out of her and haul her against me, her slick skin molding to mine. Her legs wrap around my waist on instinct, her breath hot against my throat.
The electricity between us crackles, charging the air as I lift her, her slender frame weightless in my grasp.