Free The Best Man by Ella Ardent Page A

“Today, I pleasure you,” he whispered, his French
accent thicker than before. “I ask only that you accept my gift, chère .”
    “Yes,”
she managed to whisper, then he kissed her deeply and sweetly. He lowered
himself completely over her, the weight of him pinning her against the chaise. Christine
was crushed beneath him, and wiggled with pleasure. He braced himself on his
elbows, entwined his fingers with hers, and she parted her legs. He groaned
into their kiss as he settled his weight there and Christine felt his erection
against her hungry sex. She wished the wet suit was gone and rubbed herself
against him in silent demand. He caught his breath and she felt him shudder as
he broke his kiss.
    “I
want you inside me,” she whispered. “Take me.” She arched her back and
undulated, opening her mouth to invite him closer. She heard him catch his
breath.
    “You
like this,” he whispered, his voice husky. He ran his fingertips across the
knotted bikini top and Christine struggled against her bonds. He’d bound her
wrists securely and she couldn’t work them free at all.
    She
nodded and swallowed. “I do.” She struggled again, feeling him get even harder.
    “A
fantasy?” he asked quietly.
    “One
of many.” She smiled and her voice turned husky. “Make them all come true, chèr .”
    “Then
tell me what else you like, chère .”
He kissed her hungrily then, demanding more and more of her kiss. “Tell me
everything.” He trailed a line of kisses to her ear, running his teeth across
her earlobe and making her squirm. “Tell me how I should take you first.”
    “Like
this,” Christine whispered. “Tie me down and hold me down. Fill me and claim
me.”
    He
caught his breath, and she wondered if she had shocked him. Then he bent and
took her nipple in his mouth again, a little more roughly. He suckled her,
coaxing her nipple to a tight peak, then flicked his tongue against it. His
touch set Christine on fire and she squirmed beneath his weight, wanting
everything he could give her.
    Just
when she was sure she couldn’t bear it any more, he turned his attention to her
other breast. Her nipples were so tight that they ached, and Christine arched
her back to rub herself against him in silent demand. He slid down the length
of her, making a path of kisses, running his tongue inside her navel, then
untied her bikini bottom. Christine spread her legs wide, letting him look at
her, wanting him to see that she was wet and ready for him.
    He
bound her left ankle to the chaise lounge, securing it there quickly and
resolutely. Then he caught her right ankle in his hand, holding it against his
shoulder with one heavy hand. He placed his other hand on her left thigh,
spreading her wide, then she felt his breath against her hungry puss.
    She
cried out when his mouth closed over her and his tongue flicked against her
hardened clitoris. He ate her slowly and deliberately, coaxing her pleasure to
a fever pitch. He sucked her and he nibbled her and he laved her, mixing his
moves with maddening unpredictability. She felt his tongue and his lips and his
teeth, and it drove her crazy. Christine struggled but she was tied down,
captive to his caress. She was helpless.
    She
was completely at his mercy.
    And
he was determined to pleasure her.
    There
was nowhere else she wanted to be. She moaned and tried to thrash, as he steadily
cultivated her desire. His touch was aggressive that she was sure she’d come,
then he’d ease off, kiss the soft insides of her thighs, run his tongue between
her toes, caress her and tickle her because he began his assault again. Christine
lost track of how many times he took her almost to the brink and pulled back.
She was itching to be claimed completely, certain that nothing less would do.
    He
lifted his head and blew on her clitoris, his breath making it throb even more.
Christine pumped her hips, aching for him. “Tell me, chère .” His voice was harder, a command this time,