Free Dark and Stormy Knight by Nina Mason Page B

it.”
    Spinning in her embrace, he took hold of her shoulders and turned her toward the table. At arm’s length, he ushered her toward the unset end.
    “You’re seriously going to take me over the table? What if Mr. Brody should come in?”
    “He’ll either stay and watch or turn and go.”
    “I’m not sure how I feel about an audience.”
    “Fine,” he said, bemused. “If he should come in, I’ll shoo him away. Now, bend over, you saucy minx, so I can have my way with you.”
    As she set her elbows on the table, he took hold of her skirts with both hands and flung them over her head. The bounty before him made his erection strain against his breeches.
    With trembling hands, he unfastened his fly. Taking hold of his cock, he rubbed the aching head with his thumb, smearing the dewdrop of pre-ejaculate.
    God, she had a beautiful ass. He docked his glans against her anus, and he removed the French Letter from his waistcoat pocket. After tearing open the stubborn packet with his teeth, he unfurled the latex casing down his length. With a couple of strokes for good measure, he positioned himself at her beckoning entrance. His erection pulsed with impatience, but he held back.
    “Beg me for it,” he instructed huskily. “Tell me how you yearn to feel my big, throbbing cock stretching your wee snatch to its limits.”
    “Take me, claim me, make me yours.”
    His lips compressed. The line lacked the zeal he’d hoped for, but so be it. He’d play the acting coach later. Right now, he burned to be inside her. With a forward thrust, he took the plunge. Pleasure gushed through him as soft, slippery heat swathed his length. His breath caught. Biting his lip, he pushed deeper, burying every millimeter.
    Emitting a breathy moan, she pushed back and rotated her ass. His cock pulsed and his balls clenched, ready to unload.
    “Be still,” he barked, giving her lovely bum a gentle swat.
    She tensed under him, squeezing his length provocatively. “You promised not to hit me.”
    “I promised not to hurt you. And if that mere tap put you off, you’ll be of little use to me.”
    He waited for her to defy him, but she didn’t. Meanwhile, his groin throbbed with erotic agony. Biting his bottom lip for control, he pulled out of her slowly, delighting in the view as her swollen pink sheath fought to hang on.
    “Sweet Mother of God,” he groaned. “Your cunt’s so fucking tight.”
    She tensed again, squeezing him mercilessly.
    “I don’t care for that word.”
    It took him a moment to realize what she meant. “Is there another you prefer?”
    “I don’t know. Pussy, maybe.”
    Smiling at the irony, he pulled back, hovered on the brink of withdrawal, and drove in again. Christ, she felt good. Too fucking good. He wouldn’t last long. Bending lower, he parted her furry lips and wiggled his finger against her clit.
    She circled her hips and pushed back, swallowing him to the hilt. His balls drew up, eager to unload. He bit back the urge as he worked her sweet spot like a madman. Her breathing grew ragged, her body rigid, her grip on his cock as tight as a milkmaid’s.
    “That’s it, lassie. Come for your footman.”
    When she shattered around him, he pounded her with zeal. Within seconds, his seed cannoned forth in ecstatic pulses. When the rush passed, he pulled out of her, patted her bottom, and pulled down her skirts.
    Grimacing, he peeled the condom off his flagging erection and tied a knot in the middle. He cast around for somewhere to dispose of the nasty thing. The fireplace seemed the only viable option.
    Moving toward the mantle, he tossed the condom on the flames and watched the latex disintegrate. Turning back to the table, he started when he found her right in front of him. Stiffening, he met her insistent gaze.
    What was she about?
    The exertion of fucking coupled with the alcohol had left him fuzzy-headed. Before he knew what was happening, she had him by the hair and was pulling his mouth down to hers.