Surrender: Fantasies Unleashed 3 by Mara Leigh Page B

ass tipped up in this virtual stranger’s face.
    “That’s too bad.” His fingertip relinquished its superb position, but before she could protest, his breath, his hands, his mouth were hot on her ass, scalding as he pressed wet kisses into her skin. “I’d feel bad if we ended this before you’re sure that you’re cured.”
    “Yes.” Her breathing was so ragged, so fast. “Best to be sure.”
    “I think I should administer a test.”
    A thick finger traced through her sex. Her hips lifted even higher off the table.
    “A test?”
    “Yes.” His hands traced up her sides again, leaving hot trails in their wake. “You surrendered to pleasure when you couldn’t move. We should see if you can do it unrestrained. See if you can give up control when it hasn’t been physically taken. Are you up for that, Deana?”
    His fingers grazed the sides of her breasts, and she moaned as her sensitive nipples slid against the fur. “Yes. Good idea. Best to be sure.” Anything to get his cock inside her again.
    “If we’re going to do this…” He stroked and played with her pussy, and her hips swirled, pushing back, greedily wanting more from his fingers. “If it’s going to be a real test, you still can’t tell me what to do. You can’t tell me what you want unless I ask you, agreed?”
    “Yes, yes.” Please fuck me. Please ask me if I want to be fucked, because I do. I really do. “Let’s proceed.”

Chapter Five
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    “A s you wish.” His voice was a low growl against the skin of her ass, and the caressing and teasing continued.
    His hands, his tongue, his lips, stroked and probed, until she felt sure spontaneous combustion was more than a myth. But a fiery death would be worth it. Her skin, her muscles, her internal organs burned with the heat and need generated under his skilled hands. He played her like an artist, a sculptor manipulating clay, molding her flesh to his will.
    By the time he lifted her to turn her onto her back, she was mush—a trembling, tingling amalgam of jelly for him to maneuver at will. He removed the end of the table again and lifted her legs to his shoulders. Looking into her eyes, he kissed down the insides of her legs, licking and sucking and brushing her skin with his lips and tongue.
    Then, finally, he went where she wanted. His lips and tongue nibbled and sucked, and with every lick, every flick, every plunge, her head thrashed, her stomach clenched, her body jumped. She came in a violent explosion, shaking and bucking and pressing her wet pussy into his face.
    Shame? Pride? Irrelevant. She was his. All his. His to be taken as he wanted.
    When her pulsing subsided, he was still for a moment, then his tongue flicked her clit as his hand pressed into her belly. She bucked in his strong arms.
    “How was that?”
    “Fuck me. Please fuck me.” She bit her lips, hoping she hadn’t blown it. “I mean, if you want to.”
    A low growl erupted from his chest. He unsnapped her thong, tore it off her, and she heard the beads clatter on the floor. His strong arms flipped her onto her stomach, and then slid her down until her waist hit the end of the padded table.
    Fearing she’d crumple onto the floor in a pool of paralytic flesh, she grabbed at the table’s sides, finding rails, but he guided her knees onto soft supports.
    An instant later, he was inside her from behind, his hands sliding up her back to her shoulders to pull her body down onto his. He pulled all the way out and then drove into her again, long and hard and deep.
    He thrust into her, over and over, reaching places unexplored, making her cry out from the pleasure, the pain of this deeper penetration. Rising up to her elbows to push back, her hands clutched at the fur as he drove into her, varying his rhythm like a master, a master fucker.
    Slow then fast, soft then hard, shallow then deep. His hips pumped as his hands explored her back, her neck, grabbed handfuls of her hair and gripped her hips, her shoulders, to