Free The Lord of the Clans by Chris Lange

Nine

 
 
    Air rushed out of her lungs. The skin of her back prickled against his strong chest, and her stomach tightened with want. She felt his face in her hair, his hard sex pressed between her buttocks. So hard. So big.
    “I desire you much more than I should, Ariana, but I’ve never forced myself upon anyone.”
    A violent need to become slave to his passion overwhelmed her. Limbs quivering with lust, pulse throbbing, she gasped as his confession ripped her mind apart, as his cock stiffened like an iron bar.
    Her pussy didn’t seem to belong to her anymore, but to the heated flesh pushed against it, to the powerful man who enfolded her in the clutch of his desires. A surge of wetness pelted out of her while his voice against her ear couldn’t conceal his feral arousal.
    “Do you want me, flower?”
    So much. Her out of control body pleaded to be stroked, penetrated, taken . It demanded the thick shaft inside, rubbing, thrusting, invading. She demanded it too, and a single word burst out of her like a long-awaited liberation.
    “Yes.”
    His harsh intake of breath inflamed her, yet she couldn’t move. Eyes closed, she let herself melt down under the touch of his hand. As if she was a fragile trinket, he passed a gentle finger along her side, around the curve of her buttock. Goosebumps erupted wherever he caressed her. A fierce craving drilling her stomach, excitement swallowing her, she opened her mouth to pant.
    His rigid sex shivered against her folds. Although he wanted her as badly as she wanted him, he didn’t appear to be in any hurry. But the fire blazing inside her belly needed to be quenched.
    When moisture doused her expectant slit, she brought a finger to her mouth and grabbed it between her teeth. His face still buried in the mass of her hair, he moved closer to whisper in her ear.
    “Let me make you happy.”
    He slid his hand toward her belly. The warmth of his palm fuelled her lust to the point where she couldn’t hold her hunger any longer. When she started moaning, he took her breast into his hand.
    Her legs twitched. However brief, the spasm pushed his cock against her pussy. She bit back a cry and he couldn’t refrain from groaning as he cupped her mound. A grunt escaped his lips, the exciting sound quickening her pulse. Without ties to bind her to reality, she rejoiced in the sensation of his strong arm around her, of his chest fastened upon her back.
    Deeply conscious of his every move, she twitched as he straightened his palm to draw circles on her nipple. Delightful shards ran through her, consuming her from head to toe. He took his time. He rubbed her bud as if the night would never end and she vibrated under his slow strokes.
    “Do you like what I’m doing to you?”
    The compulsion to open her heart to him took her by surprise. She’d never felt like speaking words of love before, but she did now, and the unfamiliar clamour heightened her senses. As he caressed her erect flesh, she pictured the severe lines of his face drawn with passion.
    “I do. Please, don’t stop.”
    He shuddered. His rigid cock slipped past her wet opening and he seized her nipple between his fingers.
    “No, I won’t.”
    His strained voice betrayed his ardour. When he kissed her neck, she thought the bed shifted under their weight. When he twirled her tit with increasing speed, she believed her racing heart would come out of her chest. He rolled her bud. He brought it alive. She yielded to his fondling, buttocks stretched to encase the length of his erection, pussy dying to be opened and filled.
    Although hindered by a lifetime of repressed impulses, she longed to declare her wish. The challenging words tumbled down her throat while he continued tweaking and rubbing her nipple with an eagerness that left her breathless, but they didn’t come out, and the ensuing ripples of frustration shaking her body increased her desire. She wanted to tell him. She had to tell him.
    His hard-on soaked in her wetness,