“Show me where you like to be licked. Point for me,” he demanded, already knowing and planning to save that destination for last.
“I…I don’t know. Anywhere.”
“No one has ever made you come this way.” Jack didn’t make it a question. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.
Morgan shook her head.
Amazing. Another intimate act he would be first to introduce Morgan to. The exhilarating thought went straight to his cock. Was every guy she’d dated a eunuch? He loved this, the intimate taste, the immediacy of knowing exactly which touch affected a woman most. No quicker way to make her putty, to make her beg.
To make her his.
Jack dropped his gaze to her swollen sex. Maybe…maybe he could coax her to connect him and pleasure together in her mind. That alone wouldn’t be enough to keep her, but it would be a start. The rest he’d work out hour by hour, day by day, until she agreed not just to leave Brandon but to become his.
“You’re going to come for me, Morgan. But not until I tell you to. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Her breathy, perfect reply made his cock tighten to the point of distraction. Soon…
“Ma belle, si douce,” he breathed over her clit. “Sweet, beautiful woman.”
Morgan’s heart raced as she stared down her mostly naked body and saw Jack kneeling between her shaking thighs. The want coursing through her made her limbs feel heavy, her head feel light. Her sex clenched, ached. Something was different about Jack’s touch; something between the two of them. God, what was happening to her? She swallowed against a whimper of need.
He gripped her thighs, pushing them wider, exposing her even more. Then, with his thumbs, opened her sex to his gaze.
Trembling, Morgan had never felt more vulnerable—or aroused. She dripped, arched to him, held her breath, waited. Jack could have no doubt that she responded to his demands, to the way he forced her legs apart, then stared at her sex as if he intended to eat it like a ripe peach.
Sanity—where was it? She was supposed to be engaged, for heaven’s sake. She was not supposed to like his rough brand of domination. She wasn’t the depraved woman Andrew had accused her of being. She didn’t even know why a shameful part of her thrilled to Jack’s orders.
The chilly morning breeze swept over her skin, but instead of wishing for cover, the contrast of the cool air on her heated body thrilled her.
“I love how wet you are for me. I feel your thighs tremble. I see all the folds of your cunt swelling, cher.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to just let go and enjoy. “No.”
In response, Jack merely dragged his thumb over her clit. It hardened into a pulsing knot of pure need.
A denial might have fallen from her lips, but her body was betraying her. Over and over. She’d never responded to anyone the way she did for Jack, flushing, aching, complying with whatever he wanted. Shaking with the need for more.
The knowledge of everything he kept in his playroom, items she’d only vaguely heard of and fantasized about, all just down the hall. All within the grasp of a man who surely knew how to use each with devastating skill.
“No what?” he taunted. “No, don’t make you feel good? No, don’t fuck you in every way I can think of, until you’ve come so many times your body is limp from the pleasure? Is that what you’re saying no to?”
His words and the electrically sexual images they conjured up bombarded her brain, denting her resistance like the hood of a car in a vicious hailstorm. But Morgan knew if she let go, Jack would just introduce her to one more touch to crave later, one more amazing sensation to heat up shameful midnight fantasies after they parted.
“Or are you telling yourself no?” he murmured, his lips brushing over the top of her cleft, so light yet charging her with a wicked zing that seemed to fist around her sex and squeeze. “Are you hoping to deny how good it will feel to have my tongue in your pleasure-soaked pussy?”
Yes! Damn, she had to be as transparent as plastic wrap for him to read her so easily. Forcing her eyes open, she gazed down at him—just in time to see his tongue dive between her folds. The sight of his calloused hands cradling the delicate flesh inside her thighs, his skin many times darker than her own, jolted her with a pure desire that sizzled up and down her spine and exploded in her belly.
God help her.
On that thought, the wet heat of his mouth covered her. Molten pleasure burst inside her as he licked from slit to clit, then swirled his tongue around her as if trying to lap up her cream.
“Cher, you’re like a treat.”
His voice sounded raspy and rough, half grunt and half groan. It dug past her defenses, scraping at what little resolve she had left.
He licked her in the same manner again, only this time hungrier. It wasn’t an exploratory stroke of his tongue now; it was a veracious demand. With a growl, he drew her clit between his lips and sucked.
She gasped, once, twice—every time he pulled on the sensitive bud. The protests swimming in her head drowned in the face of her body’s demands. The exquisite torture of his mouth drove her beyond her inbred decorum. Desperate for more of his touch, for him, she arched, clawing the smooth wooden railing, and silently begging by spreading her legs even wider.
“Very pretty,” he complimented, voice raspy and midnight raw. “And so sweet.”
His tongue invaded her channel as his thumb pressed down on her clit. The pleasure converged so hard and fast between her legs, it was almost painful. She felt her own folds swelling with need, making her flesh sensitive to each dip and swirl of his tongue. The February breeze whipping over her diamond-hard nipples did nothing to cool her.
Jack continued his feast, his moans of appreciation ringing in her ears. The more he ate at her, the wetter she got.
Then he stopped.
“If you want me to go on, invite me to taste more.” He nibbled at her thigh. “Tell me you want to come on my tongue.”
Morgan pressed her lips together to hold the words in. But everything between her legs ached, throbbed in time with her runaway heartbeat. Every molecule in her body strained toward what Jack wanted to give her. Why the hell was she resisting such amazing pleasure? A little tainted modesty and the risk of a bit of humiliation seemed like a small price to pay for such stunning sensations.
Even more, the hot, eager expression on his face slammed her with the need to give in. It wasn’t tender. He wasn’t interested in hearts and flowers. The wild intensity of his dark eyes in the morning’s golden light told her he wanted more. Wanted to possess her. On his face was his fierce desire to introduce her to every wanton sensation she’d ever pondered and force her to reserve her reactions exclusively for him.
The outrageous notion of belonging to him, of putting her body solely in his care and allowing him anything he wanted— they wanted—drove her past her limits.
As badly as a part of her mind pushed her to say no, everything else inside her yearned with exquisite pain to say yes.
“Taste me.” Every whispered syllable trembled. “Sir.”
Morgan knew she was taking a giant step that she couldn’t take back. She was agreeing to commit sins that would haunt her. Jack was replacing her scruples with pure, white-hot need she could no longer deny. Tantalizing her with the idea of being his to command.
A violent whip of blistering victory stormed across his face. “And?”
“I…I want to…” She swallowed, panted, trying to find the courage and the air necessary to go on.
Jack circled a finger around the small opening of her sex, scooped up drops of her cream, and massaged it over her clit. Fire shot straight inside her and burst in her belly.
God, she couldn’t take more stimulation. Already on the razor’s edge of sanity, of losing control of her body, Morgan gasped. Need tightened in her core. Blood raced. Thoughts vanished.
Jack reduced her down to her primal animal element. She’d always fantasized about such a state but believed it to be impossible. Not so. Before her knelt a sexy man who should have been a stranger. But he saw every hidden, sinful wish inside her. He not only understood them, but he could grant them—and make her feel perfectly wonderful both inside and out while doing it.
“I want to come on your tongue,” she blurted.
“Perfect, cher.” He rewarded her by lapping off the drops of fresh cream from her clit. “Such a good girl, with such a sweet pussy. I’m going to give you what you want.”
CHAPTER TEN
Morgan looked nothing short of magnificent. The emerging morning sun splashed golden light across the pale purity of her skin, illuminating every one of her sexy cinnamon freckles. Intriguing shadows danced in the dips and swells of her luscious body, tantalizing him to lean in for an up-close look. For a personal taste.
Jack was all too happy to heed the call. Her trembling admission echoed in his head, spurring him to clutch her thighs, spread them even wider and lick the glossy pink flesh in front of him.
God, she was like a drug. Every part of her had some new exotic scent or flavor. The crook of her neck smelled like ripe woman with a hint of raspberries. Her mouth soaked him with an addicting cinnamon sugar taste. But her pussy… Delicate, sweet, clean musk. Ah, she tasted like the want coursing inside her. Unique, enthralling. He could spend the morning here, lapping at her, and still be compelled to taste her again in an effort to figure out just what it was about her that so tempted his tongue.
Her ragged inhalation caught his attention. Morgan’s thighs tensed in his grasp. He smiled against her sex, then worked his tongue about her vulva, laving her clit every now and then. No steady pressure…just enough to take her higher and higher. Then, as he worked in one finger and teased her inner walls, she trembled.
Fresh cream poured from her. A flush rose on her skin as she threw her head back, legs trembling. Her sex swelled even more. Morgan dug her short nails into the aging wood of the railing and moaned.
Idly, Jack wondered how long he could keep her here, right on the edge, feeling the sharp, sweet ache of impending climax…without letting her fall over. The idea of reducing her to incoherent begging held appeal. Not because he’d never heard a woman beg. He had—frequently. But Morgan and her inbred good-girl modesty lit him up like a match to kerosene. And when he drove her past her inhibitions, she took both of them up in the flames. Even now, the thick erection pressed uncomfortably against his jeans, growling for the attention of the syrupy, sugary flesh under his tongue.
“Jack,” she panted. “Sir…”
Even her voice trembled, signaling that her orgasm was rising up hot and fast inside her. He smiled, easing back from the hard knot of her clit to focus on the swollen lips cupping his finger.
“Cher?” he returned lazily, swallowing against a lump of lust threatening to unravel him.
Before she could answer, he thrust a second digit inside her. Her open-mouthed gasp tore across the porch, across the open swamp.
Eyes squeezed tightly shut, Morgan said nothing. She focused on pleasure—exactly like he wanted her to.
Jack began easing his fingers from her tight channel. She murmured a protest, but he knew she really meant it when her body did its best to clamp down on the digits, cling, and suck him back in. God, no wonder she shredded his control so fast when he had his cock inside her.
Shoving the observation aside, he withdrew his hand from the damp humidity of her sex. His fingers all but dripped with her cream. The sight and scent went straight to his head, like pure grain alcohol, kicking his libido into full gear. He tamped down the urge to shove his pants to his knees and thrust deep inside her.
Instead, he lifted his fingers over the rosy beads of her nipples and coated them with her own juice. The wind whipped across her body, tightening the tips of her breasts even more, until they stood long and thick and so damn tempting, he couldn’t resist for another second tasting them.
Seizing her hips, Jack fit her against the ridge of his cock. Frothing with greed and glee, he loved that for now, in this moment, she and every little gasp, blush, and moan were all his.
Slowly, he closed his mouth over one of those nipples that had him salivating with anticipation. Hmm. Raspberries and musk together. Velvet-soft skin over deliciously hard nubs begging to be sucked, nibbled, clamped.
He lapped at her, laving and biting, lavishing attention on her nipples until they swelled in his mouth. If her hitching breath hadn’t indicated the truth, a quick caress from his free hand told Jack she was as wet as ever. The knowledge—the woman herself—called him like a siren. There was no resisting.
He forced a pair of fingers inside her sultry depths again, then swiped a thumb over her clit. Amazingly, she tightened on his fingers immediately, clamping down, beginning to ripple with the coming explosion.
Satisfaction swelled in Jack as he shifted his attention to her other nipple and enveloped it in the hot cavern of his mouth. He couldn’t wait to feel the magnitude of this climax. And even better, he’d bet she was nearly willing to beg for it.