Black Silk. Sharon Page

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СКАЧАТЬ should leave. He’d come to prove his innocence only to be struck in the gut with his guilt. He should—

      Don’t think.

      She smelled like heaven, ripe and creamy from her orgasm.

      A kiss. He slanted his mouth over her parted lips as he used the swollen head of his cock to part her wet nether lips.

      Hot. Wet.

      Beautiful oblivion.

      Bracing his arm on the chaise, Dash guided his cock to her snug, velvety quim and sank inside.

      3

      He was going to make her come until she begged for mercy. Until she pleaded with him to stop because she couldn’t bear more pleasure. He would hear her scream for him.

      “Oh, dear god!”

      Dash chuckled at Verity’s shocked cry as his thick cock nosed its way into her quim. Her fingernails clamped into his bare shoulders. Her teeth sank into her lower lip. Like hot cream, she flowed around his rigid shaft. His chest brushed her tightly corseted breasts, his mouth grazed her forehead as he began the slow, easy rock of his hips.

      Damn, but she was tight. A mere inch inside her slick, tight cunny and his brain wanted to shatter into a thousand pieces. His famed control was fleeing, and he fought to hang on to it.

      A girl this tight was new.

      He wouldn’t hurt her. But he needed to intensify the game.

      Dash caught her hands in his and lifted her arms over her head. Panic flashed in her dark, massive eyes. Her legs were splayed on either side of the chaise. With his weight between her creamy thighs, his length positioned over her, she was trapped.

      He read at once her fear at loss of control, but sex was best when accompanied by powerful emotion—by fear, by vulnerability, reputedly by love…

      He pumped deep, rewarded by her gasps and moans with every thrust. Her cries were so sweet, so bewitching, so delicate. Verity’s fetching cries had a truth to them that spoke deeply to his heart.

      She was so tentative beneath him.

      Afraid of him? Because he was drunk? Because he’d shattered every tumbler in the room into the fireplace? She must have seen the shards of glass.

      Her right leg hooked around his calves, her left around his hips.

      “Yes,” he groaned, and he thrust deep as her hot, bubbling core accepted his cock until he nudged the entrance to her womb.

      She cried out then, as women did when he gave that shocking thrust, when he filled them completely. He wasn’t buried to the hilt—it didn’t matter. Her cunny was snug around the head of his cock, pleasuring that spot on the shaft that was so sensitive.

      He had to be gentle. God, that was the pleasure of it—fighting to be gentle while wanting so much to ram, to pound, to pump himself senseless.

      He could slip off her mask, see her, but it would destroy trust. Her brown eyes sparkled at him; she gazed at him as if he could give her heaven with a sweep of his arm.

      Yes, angel of truth, let us fuck our way to heaven.

      Dash let his groans of mounting pleasure join with hers. Growing louder. An intimate chorus that sang in his head.

      The slim rod in her derriere made her cunny incredibly tight—it was a trick many courtesans used to enhance their lover’s pleasure. Each bounce would pleasure her anus as well as her lush quim.

      His brain began to fog. His eyes shut, and he drank in their luxurious scent, the scent now coating his cock and ballocks and her soft, sticky inner thighs. He was leaking into her, his balls ratcheting tighter, tighter, his body aching to burst.

      Let her go.

      Instinct told him to free her hands, and he braced his weight on one of his. He slid his other hand beneath her bottom, grasping a cheek. It tugged her anus, and she moaned in surprise.

      Deep. Go deep. Climb inside.

      His groin collided with hers, his jet-black nether hair crushing against her silky, chocolate pelt. Lovely. A shift of his hips, better aim, and he heard the cries that rewarded his success. His cock was stroking her clit with each plunge.

      Yes.

      He needed her climax. He was going to get it.

      Her change was so subtle. Her hands skimmed down his back. Never once had he been caressed that way—so slowly, as though she was memorizing him by touch.

      “What is your truth, love?” Why was he asking? Dash wondered. He didn’t want to give his truth. But he wanted hers. “Who are you really, Verity?”

      Maryanne heard his lordship’s question but ignored it. She ran her hands down the broad expanse of his hard back, and her fingers dipped just inside the valley of his bottom.

      She was touching Lord Swansborough’s arse!

      His cock shaft, veined and thick and wet, slid along her clit, and her toes curled. Her hips arched. She wanted to find the rhythm. The perfect rhythm.

      She’d read so many times about pain. Pain the first time. There’d been a twinge, almost nothing. But now it was the sweetest agony to be filled by such a big cock. Yet that little tweak of exhilarating pain with each thrust only excited her. It didn’t hurt, it excited her. She rose up to him, meeting him halfway, her legs flung over his.

      Ruined. She was ruined.

      How perfect ruination was.

      She closed her eyes. He was a stranger, this man pounding into her. A man she’d dreamed of, yet his every thrust pounded one truth into her head. You know nothing about him. He doesn’t even…even fuck like you guessed he would.

      She’d dreamed that he would be sweet. He would call her magnificent, beautiful—she had no idea how a man really behaved.

      But this was so very, very good.

      Swansborough was raw male hunger and pure graceful skill. A gentleman at the core, carefully balancing his weight, carefully gliding his slick cock over her teased, throbbing clit. But a beast at the heart of him, a man who hammered his pelvis into hers, who drove his cock as deep as he could, and sent shock waves of delight to her brain.

      She loved each bang. Loved the blossoming soreness of each collision. Loved the deep, full feeling of being ripped apart by wild Lord Swansborough.

      His big hand slid in between their bodies, his long index finger lying across her clit. Her bottom was invaded with each bounce of her hips, her clit stroked, her quim filled.

      Sweat dripped onto her face from his brow. A drop hit her lips, and she tasted cool salt. His eyes looked ravaged, and harsh lines ringed his mouth as he gasped and panted.

      As he fucked her.

      God, she loved it so—

      The СКАЧАТЬ