Free At Her Service (Swords of Passion) by Cerise Deland Page B

leant up on an elbow and took his lower lip between her teeth to nip him and taunt, “And if I devour you first?”
    He growled. “Think you can outlast me?”
    Her eyes narrowed, playing. “Shall we bet?”
    “Nay!” He laughed again, more deeply in his throat. “But we shall proceed.”
    Another knock sounded.
    “Omar,” Simon told her, “with refreshment.”
    Simon pulled out of her with such slow precision that she groaned and covered her mound, now so empty, but so sweetly tender that she had to massage herself and sigh.
    Simon closed the door, a tray filled with wine jug and bread in hand, and returned to watch her. “For a woman who never pleasured herself before, you do listen to your body’s needs. Open your chat and let me see you roll your fingers over your pearl of love.”
    She parted her lips with eager fingers. “I can’t go slowly, Simon. I need more.” She caught her breath as she touched her nub and circled it. Her cunt was so sensitive and so very full of their juices that her fingertips glided easily over her flesh. “Come back to me. My hands are poor substitutes for you, my dearest.”
    He seemed at first not to hear her, he was so devoted to watching her. But he shook his head then strode away. “We have wine and some bread. Later, we shall have some roast boar. The kitchen servants have butchered and dressed it for the spit.”
    “Our boar.” She laughed triumphantly but was almost to the point of ecstasy again and mewled instead.
    He poured himself a goblet of wine from the pitcher on the tray and walked back to her. “Go on, Elise. Give yourself the release you need.” He winked and drained his cup. “I promise to reward you for this lovely sight as soon as my rod fills up again. And you working at yourself does give me great desire.”
    She moaned and let her fingers fondle and pet her nether lips. Then she let her knees fall wide onto the bed. “Oh, Simon, this is lovely.”
    He pursed his lips, his brow wet with sweat as he focused on her fingers dancing over her juicy cunt. “I agree. Take yourself now, my lovely. I want you so wet for me you drip onto the sheets.”
    And so she took herself there to that demanding, pounding point where she lifted her hips off the bed in a carnal heat that had her delirious with thoughts of him twisting her nipples and slapping her slit and eating her very needy little cunt all at once.
    She splayed on the bed, limbs askew, gasping for air and smiling at him. “Do I inspire you, my Knight Divine?”
    Simon bent and kissed her knee then rose. He poured wine into his goblet and strode forward to hand her the cup. “Drink, my lovely. You need it for your next lesson.”
    She lifted on an elbow to take the earthen cup and drink. “There is more that is new?” She sipped, luxuriating in the bedclothes. “How much can you do in one afternoon?”
    Simon winked at her and stripped himself of the tunic he must have donned to open the door to the Omar. His naked body stopped her breath. The ridges of his ribs and the valley between his hip bones made her mouth water. But the size of his manhood made her swallow and   lick her lips.
    “Want to know now? Or will you eat first?” He inclined his head towards the sideboard and the tray.
    “Which would you prefer?”
    “Ah…” He got a devilish gleam in his eyes. “I want you now.”
    “Well, then.” She drained the cup, dropped it to the floor and wound her legs together in a coy coil. “Come show me.”
    He was over her in the flash of an eye. His hand delved between her heavy lips. “You are not sore?”
    She purred. “Delicious to be sore from loving you, I say. Let us be about our business, my man.”
    He roared in laughter, throwing back his head and enjoying the mirth she could wager he had not had much of these last twelve years. But when he was done, he grew stark and serious. “Let us be about another way to give each other joy.”
    She pouted prettily, letting the fire of her