Lord & Master by Emma Holly

with one hand. “These are my balls.” He gripped the sac to demonstrate and then let go. “The round bit at the tip is my glans or knob.” This he circled with one finger. “It’s quite sensitive, but it likes to be kissed and sucked.” My eyes widened at that suggestion, though I confess I was intrigued. “The shaft and tip fit inside you, in a special passage between your legs. I move back and forth in there and it stimulates both our nerves. Once you grow accustomed to the process, it’s very pleasurable.”
    Thus far, his predictions were in line with the dairymaids.
    “Could I touch you again?” I asked.
    The flesh his hand steadied jerked.
    “Not just yet,” he said. “For now it’s better if I touch you.”
    I didn’t ask why. I simply looked at him wide-eyed.
    He’d moved back a step to disrobe. When he returned, I realized I’d once again missed my chance to press my knees together. His naked—and very warm—upper thighs prevented it. The bed was high, and I was still propped on my elbows. So lightly I barely felt it, he traced the side of my face with the backs of his bent fingers.
    He drank in my reactions.
    “Why don’t you lie back?” he suggested.
    Cautiously, I complied.
    He spread my hair out and arranged the diamond necklace to lie straighter on my body. Its weight was strange, somehow seeming to anchor me. At first, Damien did nothing alarming. He stroked my shoulders with his fingers, and then drew his hands down my arms. Waves of buzzing warmth spread through me.
    “That’s it,” he praised. “Just relax.”
    He kissed my neck and collarbones, each silky press of his lips creating a small burst of sensation. I thought what I felt must be like being hypnotized. He swept his fingers slowly along my side, getting me used to his touches there. He seemed to admire my hips. He drew circles around the bone and then the more generous flesh.
    The next time his warm palm came up me, it caught my breast and cupped.
    “Oh,” I said, surprised from my languorous daze.
    He hummed reassuringly and took my nipple into his mouth to suck.
    The pull of his lips gave all my body’s nerves a shock. I made a noise like he had when I’d rubbed him. He drew harder, his tongue joining in the game. I squirmed as it flicked me, my hands coming to his ribs.
    I didn’t push him away. The feel of his skin was unexpectedly appealing.
    He lifted his head and smiled. “Let’s see if your other nipple likes being teased this way.”
    It did, and my helpless wriggling emboldened him. His hands grew freer, roaming greater swaths of me. My thighs were caressed, and my knees and calves. He massaged the arch of my foot, and so many nerves sparked in reaction that I couldn’t be surprised when hot silky warmth overflowed from inside me.
    As if he knew, Damien’s eyes darkened. “Almost,” he said ominously.
    He kissed my belly, punctuating his downward progress with little nips. I don’t know why I liked them. I’m sure I shouldn’t have. Whether I should or not, the love bites seemed to spur each place they marked to more intense life.
    I inhaled sharply when he gripped my hips and yanked them to the very edge of the soft mattress.
    He knelt then, knees on the carpet, broad shoulders between my thighs. I couldn’t draw my legs together even if I’d wanted to. When his thumbs slid up my folds and rubbed, I twisted with an impossible mix of pleasure and embarrassment.
    My stranger/husband regarded me seriously. “You’re beautiful to me, Mia. Everywhere. And never more than when I’m arousing you.”
    “A-all right,” I agreed unsurely.
    He smiled. His thumbs found a spot to massage that arched my spine off the bed. “Do you know what this is?”
    “My pussy?” I asked once I was able to stop moaning.
    “Your clit—or clitoris, more properly. It is the strongest seat of your pleasure, though as you’ve observed already, many parts of your body are erotically sensitive.”
    I had observed that.