Free Whats Your Pleasure by Marie Haynes Page B

thighs. With each blow Nathan had inflicted, her arousal had risen and her resolve had weakened. She actually wanted to be told what to do, to be spanked, to be forced to reveal her secret. Now, fear crept up her spine as she waited for Vincent’s acceptance or denial.
    She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Vincent’s hand touch her shoulder. She moaned when his tongue followed, anointing every wrinkle of her marred skin. No one, ever, had touched her in such a way. Still, she ached for his words.
    He reached between her legs, gently pushing apart her thighs, forcing her to widen her stance. He dipped in his fingers, touching her honey. Suddenly, he pulled away. She gasped and tried to turn towards him.
    “Don’t move,” he commanded, his voice carrying authority, his hand resting on her damaged skin.
    Quickly, she again faced the bar, tears of frustration and fear forming.
    “Do you know what I see?” he asked.
    Not trusting herself to answer, she shook her head.
    “I see the path of courage and a river of pain.” He kissed the top of her shoulder. “A trail of beauty and suffering and strength.”
    She trembled, feeling one finger follow the hills and valleys of the scar tissue.
    Again, he kissed her neck, worked his way down her spine. She felt herself tremble again, this time from pleasure. He pushed on her back, forcing her to lean over a table, her ass in the air. He continued his downward path, his tongue finding her dripping slit. Joe tipped her head back, her eyes closed. His mouth and tongue were so warm, so soft. He lapped up her juices, his clever tongue entering her pleasure tunnel. She could stand no more. Wave after wave crashed over her as stars exploded before her closed eyes. She heard a woman screaming and realised it was her. Just as she was catching her breath, she heard Vincent’s low growl. Before she could adjust herself, he had both his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place when she would have stood.
    “Stay put. I need to get a condom on,” he instructed. Quickly, her found the foil packet, ripped it open and unrolled the protective latex over his shaft.
    He entered her. Not gently, not harshly. He entered her with the determination of a man marking his woman. His momentum pushed her hips into the rough, wooden table. She stood on her toes, meeting him thrust for thrust. He moved his hands beneath her, grasping, squeezing her breasts, laying his head against her neck. No longer was she a bartender. No longer was she a woman of responsibilities, no longer was she a scarred victim. Her world spun around her, and she became A Woman. That was all, and that was glorious. She became A Woman conscious only of pleasing the man she loved, bending her will to his, offering her body, her soul for his pleasure.
    His fingers dug into her breasts, and his pounding lifted her feet from the floor. Her mind spun wildly, completing her journey of joy as he shot his hot seed into the condom deep inside her womb. Completely satiated, he remained in place, his slowly shrinking rod encased within her warmth, his breathing ragged.
    When she felt his heartbeat become even, he pulled out of her. Gently, he touched her shoulder, signalling her to face him.
    “Joe,” he said softly. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
    Her heart clenched, and the tears that had threatened flowed freely.
    He held her to him, “No, baby. Don’t cry. You must know I’ve fallen in love with you. Your scars, your past. They don’t matter other than to add to your mystique, your beauty, your strength. I love you, Joe. All of you.”
    “Vincent,” she whispered into his chest. She didn’t know what to say. Her heart was so full, she thought it might burst. She tried to speak, to tell him everything, but couldn’t. Finally, she blurted out, “I love you, too.”
    Vincent smiled his big, happy grin, but Joe wasn’t satisfied. She needed to show him how much she loved him. Looking up at him,