PerpetualPleasure (15 page)

Lucie cried out his name, her voice thick, her eyes dazed,
wide with pleasure. The pleasure he gave her. The scent of it filled the air,
her nails a stinging, heated sensation on his skin. And when she grew taut
before him, her cries welding into one drawn-out choppy wail as the orgasm tore
through her, MacCale was forced to grit his teeth and hold back his own
release. He wondered would he ever enjoy his own body as much as he enjoyed
hers.

The contractions around his fingers eased. Lucie slumped
against his chest, breathing hard. Spent. Sated. The knowledge filled him with
a pride he would have thought ridiculous at one time. The satisfaction that now
flared in him had little to do with sex and everything to do with a desire much
deeper than a thousand nights in her bed could sate.

I love you. Let me love you, Lucie.

“Did I faint? I think I’m going to faint,” she wheezed.

“Oh no, you don’t. I need you with me for the next round.”

Slowly, he pulled back his fingers, rasping gently against
her swollen, sensitized labia. Lucie twitched, sighed, as he kept petting her,
smoothing over her mound to cup her while she caught her breath. MacCale wiped
what cream still coated his fingers all over the engorged crest of his cock,
wincing at the unbelievable sensation.

“That was warm up.” He had to go slow or self-combust. He
was beginning to feel he would self-combust before he ever got inside her no
matter what he did.

Lucie’s knees gave. MacCale scooped her up, laid her on the
bed, changed his mind and scooped her up again to draw back the quilt covering
the narrow mattress. “Better,” he murmured. The cotton sheets were far more
comfortable than the linen quilt.

Gripping the waistband of her panties, he said, “Lift your
hips for me, honey.” On shaking thighs, she complied. MacCale peeled the lace
from her, pushed her legs open and kneeling between them, helped Lucie back up.
The disheveled bra still plumped her breasts, and as tantalizing as the sight
was, he needed her naked, skin on skin.

“Front or back?” he asked.

“Back,” she said. He unclasped the bra and helped Lucie out
of it, reveling at how she moved as if in slow motion. Sitting down and opening
his legs to prop them over hers, MacCale pulled her to him. He caressed her
back, searching for the scars that marred her skin, feeling around for the
welts he had missed the first time. He ran his fingers over every ridge the
whip had left, every mark the cigars had made. A murderous rage seeped through
the bliss. He couldn’t avenge her or change the past. But he could be here now.

Lucie squirmed. “They bother you?”

“No.” He grazed the scars, taking care to touch her tenderly
where she had only known pain, touch her unflinchingly where he bet she wanted
no man to touch or even look at.

“Yeah, right,” she grunted.

Pulling back, MacCale looked down into her eyes. Deep,
dark-blue gleamed back at him as he wrapped one hand around the back of her
neck, the other around his shaft. He kissed her brief, fierce, tilted the thick
stalk.

“Did that feel like the kiss of a turned-off man?” Nudging
forward, he pushed the crown of his cock against her wet folds. Lucie drew a
sharp breath, prompting him to play with her a little. He rubbed her lips with
the tip, gathered the syrup there and spread it all over the swollen bud of her
clit. Lucie gasped, her hands flying behind her for support as she strained to
stay put.

His body taut with need, tense with hunger, MacCale couldn’t
resist.

His hips flexed. He watched as the flushed wide crest slid
to her lips, then pressed inside. The tiny entrance of her vagina parted,
sucked at the head as he pressed it closer, clenching, urging him inside.

It was a pleasure so violent, he swore. Ah god, he couldn’t
bear it. His hand locked on her, heated, pulsating pleasure wrecking his balls
as he forced himself to pull back. Her juices lubricated the crown.

“Did that feel like the cock of a man who doesn’t like what
he sees or feels?”

She sighed heavily. “No.”

“Damn right.” He didn’t want to kill the mood, but neither
did he want Lucie to think there wasn’t an inch on her body he didn’t desire.

He tucked the head of his cock against the slick flesh of
her sweet pussy, struggled with the instinct to thrust. The knob throbbed,
screaming for more. He stoked the lust burning in his balls, stroked over her
clit. Pre-cum welled from the tiny slit at the tip, mingled with her satiny
juices as he moved over her mound, feathery-light, pleasure whipping through
his shaft and racing up his spine at the thought of working his bare dick all the
way inside her.

Lucie moaned. Then, as if she had heard his desperate
thoughts she said, “Do it.”

Dipping back between the plump folds, MacCale pushed. The
tight portal flared open, the thick crown of his cock disappearing, poised just
inside her fiery-hot cunt before he was forced to pull back again.

Lucie gasped as he plopped out of her pussy. “Again. Deeper.
Do it.”

MacCale looked at where their bodies almost joined. Sweat
coated his neck, his back, as he stared at the naked length of his cock, the
tip drenched, slick with how creamy and ready Lucie was, the evidence
glistening all over the pink flesh of her labia.

“Again,” she demanded, rolled her hips, brushed against him.
He watched her eyes drift shut, her head lolling back as sweet liquid heat
spread all over the underside of his dick.

God, she would burn him alive. “Baby, I’m not protected.”

“I am. Always,” she said. “Again.”

Lucie had fucked but had she known such intimacy? She’d had
sex but had she ever known passion, the bond it could forge, the unbelievable
pleasure it could bring?

Lucie dropped flat on her back. Her eyes fluttered open.
Undiluted desire shone from them as she spread her legs but it wasn’t the
temptress he saw in her lust-addled gaze or lazy movements. It was a woman
giving herself to him so deeply, so completely that before he could catch
himself, he was parting her saturated folds with his fingers and working his
cock in, wedging inside her.

Mac eased back and forth. “There, baby. Take my dick. That’s
it.” Feeling her muscles flex around him, he closed his eyes. Fighting to
breathe, he had to stop. Half-buried inside her, he held still and let Lucie
feel him, reveled in the feel of her.

“You still with me, Mac?”

“Oh god, I don’t know. Gimme a minute, okay?”

“I don’t think I can wait that long.” She
sighed, squirmed. Her hips rocked against his, her pussy tugging at his cock
and driving him crazy with the need to fuck into her hard and fast.

“All of you,” she whispered.

Shifting, he moved inside her sensitive depths and heard
Lucie cry out in pleasure. Mac spread her folds to watch her taking him as he
delved inside her flushed, tight flesh, sank into luscious bliss. Her scent
intensified, the proof of her arousal, the smell of fucking and climaxing a
potent aphrodisiac that only made his craving worse.

The incense fed his fire, tested his restraint. He impaled
her a little deeper with each stroke, felt the pinching muscles as they parted
for him. He pulled back, penetrated once again, the shivery muscles of her
pussy gripping his dick every time he withdrew, scraping his length so sweetly
every time he edged inside.

Lucie shook her head, gripped at the sheets. “Oh god, Mac,
that feels incredible.”

“Doesn’t it, baby? Like a searing-hot dream.”

Just a dream. Every dream he’d ever had. This pussy. This
body. This woman. Lucie wrapped in candlelight, her skin dewy and luminous, her
eyes wide with awe.

“More,” she begged. “More.” Lucie arched, lost in sensation.
She was humming in her throat, a low keening sound that pierced through Mac’s determination
to go slow, the promise of nice and easy. It rammed through his restraint. He
was losing it. Christ, he was losing control.

On a snarl of pure animal hunger, his hips jerked. He
powered inside her, groaning at the pleasure. He buried his erection high
inside her, a deep, hard stroke that made Lucie shout out in erotic shock.

Fuck. She was killing him. He was dying. Dying with
pleasure, dying for her, for more.

“Again,” she pleaded. Her hips rolled, pressed against him,
egged him on and he thrust, drove full-length inside and he could feel it,
agonizing pleasure drawing his balls tighter. It tripped up his spine and it
was all Mac could do not come, spill inside her clenching, quivering cunt, the
sweetest pussy he’d ever tasted, fingered, fucked.

His hands moved to her hips, tightened on damp, silky skin
as he fought against release, fought to breathe through the pleasure racing
from his balls to his dick, from his spine to the back of his head and down to
his soul.

“Ah fuck! Lucie,” he groaned.

Then he was shifting, coming over her to thrust harder,
stronger. He pumped inside her, his hips grinding against hers as if he
couldn’t get deep enough, high enough. Within seconds, Lucie’s breathing picked
up, her fingers curling into his forearms. Her legs latched around his waist,
the snug channel of her pussy tightening as it pulsed around his shaft.

Too soon. Way too soon.

“Five months, Mac.” An excuse. A plea. Permission.

“Exactly,” he growled. Forcing himself into action, fighting
against the need to come, come hard and come now, Mac retreated, pulled out of
her clenching pussy. Lucie scrambled up, wriggled all over his dick and almost
sent him hurtling into release as she sat on him, wrapping her legs around his
back and her arms around his shoulders.

Mac locked her in place, his arms holding her still so she
wouldn’t move on his cock. Not yet. The embrace bound them together, a sensual
cocoon of warm skin and heavily drawn breaths, an unparalleled feeling of
unity.

“I need it, Mac. So bad.” As firmly as she sat on him, Lucie
still managed to destroy him, sucking at his cock with hungry flexes of her
pussy. He wanted to hold her, just hold her in his arms. At the same time all
he wanted was to keep making love to her, fuck her until she admitted loud and
clear exactly whom she belonged to.

His chin gently scraped her cheek, his mouth pressed against
her temple to kiss her there. Slowly, gradually, he eased up his hold to roam
her skin with the tips of his fingers, encouraging Lucie to explore his skin with
hers. “Nice and easy gets the goods, baby.”

She pinched his earlobe with her teeth. “Says the man who
just pumped my pussy in a fucking frenzy.”

He nibbled her ear in return, nuzzled her neck, marveling at
the unbelievable softness of her skin. “There is nothing like your skin on
mine, Lucie. There is nothing better than feeling you, watching you, touching
you. I need to hold you. I want to hold you when you come.”

“You’re going to come inside me.” Her graveled murmur
brushed his throat.

“Deep and hard, baby,” he promised.

A shudder raced up her spine. One hand kneaded his shoulder,
the other played with his hair. Her breasts grazed his chest, sent sparks
crawling under his skin.

“I’ve dreamed about us, Mac. A thousand times. But this…this
is so much better than I ever knew.”

Supporting her by the waist, he said, “Lean back.” Lucie
arched her back, her chest stretching out, and pulled his head between her
breasts. As if he needed encouragement. He nuzzled one nipple, tasted the spot
between the pale, full globes before tracking the curve of the other breast
with his tongue. Slowly, he licked his way up, circled around the swollen bead
until Lucie squirmed. He awarded her with a tug of his lips followed by a
rapid-fire tonguing that left her panting.

“Oh god, Mac. Stop.
No.
Don’t.” She held him tighter
as he kissed her breasts, leisurely licks alternating with forceful pulls. His
tongue traced every crease, lashed over satiny skin, his hand grazing over her
hip then across to her butt cheeks. He gently kneaded her with his palm, her
luscious bottom as big a turn-on as her beautiful breasts but nothing compared
to the fire he’d seen in her eyes or the passion he’d heard in her voice.

His other hand tucked around her neck and lifted her face to
his. His lips traced her throat, moved over her chin then touched her lips.

“Your eyes stay on mine. I want to watch you, baby.”

She sighed. “I’m not acting, Mac. This isn’t an act.”

“I know, honey. That’s why I want to watch you. It’s so damn
beautiful. So fucking sexy.” He kissed her soft, gentle, his lips moving
tenderly over hers. Lucie held on to him, let her tongue meet his, and Mac had
to fight to hold himself back, to keep from devouring her and let her taste his
mouth at her pace instead. He could feel his body grow taut. Would she see it
in his expression? The insane hunger, the mindless need to possess?

His breathing rough, Mac gripped the aching length of his
erection and tucked it against the entrance of her body. Searing heat swept the
head of his cock. Grimacing, he prayed for patience and shifted closer.

“Ride me,” he urged. “Just don’t rush it.”

Gently, firmly, he guided her hips. Lucie pressed down. She
moaned as the broad head parted her to enter.

“Mac.”

“That’s it, baby.”

She followed the lead of his hands at her hips, rocked
against him. Her eyes stole between their bodies several times, Lucie trying to
watch his cock begin to disappear inside her. Slick threads of fire surrounded
the distended crest, streaked down the stalk and tore through his balls. She
gripped his wrists as he held her hips, and pressed steadily downward.

Soft, surprised cries tore from her throat as she moved on
him slowly, lifting and lowering, working him inside her inch by thick inch as
Mac watched her. Lucie holding on to him with nearly bruising force, the way
her eyes narrowed and mouth opened, heated rushes of breath rolling off her
tongue, her expression morphing into a study in blissful agony.