Free Scandalous-nook by RG Alexander Page B

as she struggled
     to take him. He was thick and hard, and stretching her so wide she couldn’t decide
     whether it was too much or not enough.
    It was Stephen. It would never be enough.
    “Damn it, I don’t think I can last this time. It’s been too long.” He slipped a hand
     beneath her body, his fingers sliding through her dripping arousal. “I need you to
     come for me.”
    She wanted to. She needed to. She was so close. “Oh God, please.”
    Two fingers thrust inside her, matching the rhythm of his cock in her ass. “Give it
     to me. Give me what’s mine. Scream my name and come for me.”
    His teeth scraped her shoulder and he bit down in warning, and that was all it took.
     Supernovas exploded behind her closed eyelids and set off a chain reaction in every
     cell of her body. Her sex clenched around his fingers, her ass around his erection,
     and every muscle in her body seized, arching off the bed as she found her release.
    “Stephen!” She screamed over and over again as he thrust deeper inside her once, twice,
     before joining her with an agonized shout.
    She couldn’t stop trembling. Not when he kissed her back, pulling out of her slowly.
     Not when he came back to release the handcuffs and clean her used body with a warm,
     wet washcloth.
    He climbed onto the bed and leaned against the headboard, dragging her into his arms
     and kissing her hair, her forehead, anywhere he could reach. “Natasha? Talk to me.
     Was I too rough?”
    She almost laughed, but she was afraid she’d start crying. “Did I use the safe word?”
     She didn’t wait for him to respond. “You were good.”
    “I should have taken lessons from you years ago,” he said softly.
    “You didn’t need them until now,” she responded. “I always knew you were a quick study,
     but I underestimated your skills. I don’t think this party will be a problem.”
    He’d been more than good. Natasha had once been strapped to a St. Andrew’s Cross and
     whipped until she’d collapsed. She’d cried for an hour with a release that had been
     more healing than two years of therapy, but that paled in comparison to Stephen Finn’s
     experimental bedroom play.
    His first lesson had nearly shattered her beyond repair. It was taking everything
     she had not to ugly sob all over his lean, beautiful chest and scare him away with
     her rollercoaster emotions. Either he wasn’t telling her something or he was a born
     Dominant. A fucking savant with definite primal leanings. One conversation, a few
     simple directions and he’d made her come harder than she ever had in her sexually
     liberated, open-minded life.
    You’re mine.
    Uptight, organized Senator Finn was charming. Impatient, secret lover Stephen Finn
     was irresistible. This man? The one who’d just blown her mind, fucked her harder than
     he’d ever dared, bitten her neck and claimed her for a week of pleasure? This Stephen
     was a predator that needed careful handling.
    He could hurt her in a way the other two never could.
    “Angel?” His deep voice rippled like silk along her bare skin.
    She burrowed closer into his side, shaking her head. “You might want to choose another
     pet name. I am many things, Senator Sexy, but I’ve never been an angel. Unless you’re
     referring to the fallen kind.”
    He kissed her temple. “I don’t think you get to choose your own pet name.”
    “Of course I do,” she argued sleepily. “And I choose Supreme Goddess. Or Chocolate
     Princess. Maybe you can call me Spanky, since I have a feeling my behavior will require
     excessive punishment.”
    He chuckled. “How about Brat? That certainly fits.”
    “You haven’t seen my brat come out, honey. Not yet.”
    He was silent for a long moment, then his arms tightened around her. “I think I need
     another lesson.”
    Already? She still couldn’t feel all of her toes. “Trust me, Stephen, we’re good.”
    Her lashes fluttered when she felt him slide down her body, spreading her legs