Sweet Persuasion

He lay there watching her, making no move to stop her or to direct her in any way. She moved closer until she could feel his breath on her lips. Slowly, with great deliberation, she touched her mouth to his.

She sighed into his mouth, unable to call back the deep contentment over the simple kiss. She loved touching him, and so far had not gotten as many chances to do so as she’d have liked. This morning he seemed willing to let her do as she wished, and she wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity.

Her hands fluttered over the beard-roughed skin of his jaw, and she kissed a line from his lips to his neck, enjoying the rugged rasp against her lips. His pulse jumped wildly at his neck as her mouth closed over it and nipped lightly with her teeth.

“Are you seducing me, Serena mine?” he said in a near groan. “Has the slave turned master and temptress?”

She smiled and shoved, rotating his body until he lay flat on his back underneath her.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you untied,” he murmured, though there was no true regret in his voice.

“Make love to me, Damon,” she whispered. The need was strong in her voice. “Just us. No bonds. No games. Just two lovers enjoying waking beside each other.”

He circled her body with his arms, yanking her to his chest. She fell, her mouth landing close to his. He claimed her lips, devouring them hungrily. There was no casual sipping, no easy give and take. He simply took, unleashing his passion in a kiss that left her shaken and bare.

There was no disguising his need, his urgent desire for her. Power rippled through her, arcing in the air, electric and sizzling. That he could want her so desperately, just her, not the slave, not the games or the elaborate schemes, took her breath away.

He rolled, taking her with him until she was tucked underneath him, her legs splayed out, him cradled to her body. His hands tangled in her hair, clutching at her slim neck as he guided her to his eager mouth.

“Does your back hurt you?” he gasped out.

She had to actually think, to try and remember why her back would hurt. Then last night came flooding back in a storm of passion and lust. Images of how he’d made her feel. The pain. The desire laced with the fury of her orgasm.

“No, it doesn’t hurt. Please don’t stop, Damon. You won’t hurt me. You’d never hurt me.”

“No, Serena mine. I’ll never hurt you,” he said softly as he reclaimed her mouth.

His lips slid from hers and down her jaw until he reached the sensitive lobe of her ear. He nibbled lightly then sucked it between his teeth. When he moved below to claim the tender skin of her neck, chill bumps danced and raced across her shoulders and tightened her nape.

She made full use of her hands, delving into his brown hair, enjoying the crispness of the strands as they feathered across her fingers. His gaze sought hers as he rose from her neck and then moved to her breasts.

There was something wild in his eyes. Where before he had seemed restrained, in control and patient, now there was an urgency, a deep wanting in those warm brown orbs that melted her heart.

“Come to me,” she whispered. “Be with me. Serena. The person, not the fantasy.”

He stopped, his body going still against her flesh. His gaze penetrated her, dark and forbidding. Propping himself on one arm next to her head, he touched his fingers to her lips as if to shush her. “You were never just a fantasy to me, Serena mine.”

Her chest swelled and expanded with emotion that caught her off guard. Was she too caught up in the mess of fantasy versus reality? Was she having a hard time separating the two in her mind? Why was it suddenly so important that he want her and not the obedient sex slave?

He dropped his head and kissed her, long and sweet. His tongue danced with hers, touching, licking, loving her mouth deeply and intimately.

There was a reverence to his every touch, almost hesitation, as though he feared she would shatter under his caresses. Carefully he ran his hand over the curve of her shoulder. The backs of his knuckles grazed the soft skin above her breast and then slid over her nipple.

“Are they sore?” he asked as he stopped and thumbed over the point.

“A little,” she admitted. “They’re more . . . sensitive. They still tingle.”

“Did you like the clamps?”

She nodded.

He leaned down and put his mouth over the taut peak. Warm and moist, his tongue flicked over the tip as his lips closed around the aureole. Her pussy tightened as he sucked in smooth rhythmic motions.

With his free hand, he reached between them, sliding his hand between her parted thighs. He found her wetness, and his fingers teased over her opening. His cock lay rigid against the inside of her thigh, and he opened her then positioned himself so that his length was cradled in her folds.

He smiled when her eyes widened as he rubbed up and down, the plump vein on the underside of his penis pressing against her clit. His balls crowded her pussy entrance, and she remembered how they’d felt sandwiched between them when he’d fucked her ass.

She reached down, and he reared farther up on his knees to give her access. Her fingers slid through her curls so that his cock nudged the tips each time he came seeking through her folds. Up and down he rubbed, sucking in his breath each time she stroked the blunt crown.

Her juices coated him and transferred to her hand. She withdrew and brought her fingers up to his mouth in a saucy dare. He didn’t hesitate. Taking her wrist, he held her fingers captive and proceeded to suck each and every one.

Not letting go of her hand, he leaned forward, forcing her arm to her side. He found her other one with his free hand and entwined their fingers before pressing them to the mattress on either side of her head.

He lay above her, his body pressed to hers, his cock between her thighs. He nibbled playfully at her chin, and when she laughed, he captured the sound as his mouth covered hers.

He rocked his hips, moving up and down until he found her entrance. He slid deep, seating himself far within her body. Then he stopped, holding himself tightly against her as he devoured her mouth.

She wriggled her hands, just enough to test how committed he was to holding her down. He released her immediately, and she touched him with greediness, her hands coaxing over his arms to his muscular shoulders and then to his back.

She loved the male roughness, the dips and curves of each muscle and the rigidity as she feathered over them. She loved feeling him flinch, as though her touch was intensely pleasurable to him.

He withdrew, sliding his engorged cock over aching, pulsing flesh. Then he rocked forward again, slow and easy. She sighed and wiggled her hips, impatient for the pleasure he would give her.

A smile curved his sensual lips, and his eyes gleamed as he stilled once more inside her.

“You’re a miserable tease,” she reproached.

“What’s your hurry?” he murmured as he kissed her quick and light and then proceeded to pepper a line down her jaw to her throat.

“Mmmm.” She arched into him, seeking those sinful lips, needing to feel them against her skin.

Thrust and withdraw. He set a lazy rhythm, his pace unhurried and relaxed. Each stroke sent her senses flaming, a slow crawl to completion. Like a rope swing in the heat of summer, starting slow, swaying in the wind, higher and higher, until it reached toward blue skies.

She closed her eyes, basking in his sunshine. His hands roamed freely over her body, cupping and molding, his touch light and seeking. Each caress told her more than words that she belonged to him. She was his and he knew her better than any other lover she’d ever been with.

When she felt his pace quicken, felt him swell within her, stretching her to her limits, she pulled his head down to hers. She fused their lips, pouring all that she felt into her kiss.