“It’s not that. God, Isabeau… you can’t know what you do to me.”
He moved close, close enough to hold me if that’s what he wanted. If so, I wasn’t going to stop him.
“Then what is it?” I reached out hesitantly, my fingers trailing along his arm until I reached his hand. He didn’t pull away.
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Try me.”
There was a moment of tension, so thick I could barely breathe, and then he closed the distance between us, grabbing me roughly, his lips crashing down on mine. His mouth was hot and urgent, making my knees shiver and my pu**y heat. I moaned, opening my lips beneath his, and felt a surge of arousal course through me as his tongue met mine, searching, tasting, teasing...
I clutched the front of his shirt, wanting to rip it off, but not sure if it was okay, if it was proper. He broke the kiss, and looked at me like a wild animal, his eyes ravenous. I was afraid and nervous and more turned on than I’d ever been in my life.
“I can smell your need,” he growled, and slipped a hand beneath my robe, cupping my sex. “You’re on fire for me.”
“Oh, God,” I whispered. My core was so wet, so ready, and I felt my juices drip down onto his palm.
“Tell me you want this.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I… I want this.”
That was all it took.
He jerked the belt of my robe open and tore it down off my shoulders. The silk whispered at it fell to the ground. His eyes roamed my curves, taking in my round br**sts and firm body, my ni**les peaking under his gaze. For a moment, I wanted to cover up, to avoid his searching stare, but then he touched me with those strong hands, and all thoughts of shyness disappeared.
He was rough, but gentle lovemaking was the last thing on my mind. He caressed my br**sts, stopping to twist and pinch each nipple into a stinging point, making me groan with each jolt of pain. I reached for the buttons of his shirt, but he slapped my hands, unbuttoning it himself and tossing it aside.
His body was exactly as I’d imagined: toned, hard, with a sprinkling of light brown hair across his powerful chest. I wanted to touch him, to take my time, licking my way down to that oh-so-sexy spot where his abs met his hip, but he held my wrists in one hand as he worked his buckle. He drew a condom out of his pocket, then dropped his pants and underwear to the floor.
I gasped when I saw his erection, stiff and huge, the tip already glistening with pr**um, ready to bury itself between my legs. I squirmed in his grasp, needing him now, wanting him more than I thought was possible. He released my hands just long enough to rip the condom wrapper open and roll it on, then threw my arms around his neck.
“Clasp your hands together, and don’t let go. Understand?”
It was an order, and my body tingled at his commanding tone, ready and eager to please.
“Yes, Sir.”
I don’t know why I said it, but I was instantly glad I did. The look on his face was one of pure animal lust as I did as he demanded, holding my hands together behind his neck, bracing myself against his broad shoulders.
He picked me up with a growl and impaled me with one hard thrust. I cried out as his thick c**k stretched me, filling me to an almost painful degree. There was no foreplay, only this, and it was exactly what I craved.
“Is this what you want?” He gritted in my ear.
I gasped in response as he began pumping in and out of me, his hands supporting my ass, bobbing me up and down on his hot erection. I held on for dear life, feeling helpless as he bucked up into me, hitting me hard with each jerk of his hips.
“Answer me! Did you want this, little temp, when you asked why I don’t punish you?”
He dug his fingers into my skin, bruising me, but I didn’t care. My body felt like it was on fire, filled with the sensations of this man’s violent lovemaking, unlike anything I’d ever experienced. My toes curled behind his back as he drove into me again and again and again.
“Y-yes! Yes!”
My voice was high. Breathless. I felt like I was riding a storm, with each thrust getting me closer and closer to being struck by lightning. He bucked into me over and over, and time seemed to stand still as I succumbed to his will, trusting him to hold me as he drove into me again and again.
Then, suddenly, Mr. Drake unclasped my arms from his neck and grabbed my waist, flipping me over. I yelled in surprise as my feet hit the ground and he bent me over his ottoman, my ass sticking up high in the air. He jerked my hands behind my back and held my wrists together again.
“You call me Sir when you’re with me like this. Understand?”
His hand came down hard on one ass cheek, and I yelped at the sharp jolt of pain.
“Yes!”
He hit me again on the same spot, making me moan into the cushion. My pu**y ached to be filled by him again; the sweet burn amplifying my need.
“What did I just say? Are you deaf, little temp?”
His hand came down again and again, the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberating throughout the room.
“I’m sorry, Sir! I understand, Sir!”
I could almost hear him smile behind me, but before I could turn and look, he thrust into me once more. I wailed mindlessly as he began f**king me, harder and harder, faster and faster, taking me then and there like I was his to use and always had been. He pulled my wrists, making me arch my back, helpless to resist the onslaught of his body slamming into mine.
When one hand snaked around my h*ps and pinched my cl*t hard, I screamed, the bite of sensation taking me right to the edge, his hard c**k taking me tumbling over. I fell apart beneath him, moaning as I convulsed around him again and again, milking him even as he railed into me.
He released my wrists and gripped my ass as he pumped into me once, twice, three more times, abusing the already tender flesh. He groaned behind me, and I sighed as I felt him cumming, his c**k twitching inside of me as my pu**y gripped it, still pulsing from the strength of my orgasm.
“Good, girl,” he said, catching his breath above me. “Good girl…”
***
I lay draped over the ottoman for a minute or two, feeling like all of my bones had been replaced with rubber bands, before I pushed myself up and looked around. Mr. Drake expertly knotted the condom and tossed it in the trash, then retrieved the silk robe for me.
“Thank you,” I said, and we both knew I wasn’t talking about the robe.
He smiled down at me, his dimples breathtaking in the flickering firelight.
“Is this really what you want, Isabeau? I’m not a gentle man. I never have been.”