Rituals of Passion (23 page)

She bit her lip, then dropped her gaze to the pole-like protrusion straining the leather tie that crisscrossed it.

After only a second’s hesitation, during  which her heavy breath was the only sound in the room, she reached for the thin cord. “I can’t quite…” she trailed off, frustrated, as her angle didn’t allow easy access.

“Get up,” he told her, and when she did,  he stretched out in the chair, making sure she could easily free his rod, and making sure
 
he
 
could watch.

Standing between his  spread thighs, her skirt riding high on her hips, her breasts bared and surrounded by fur, she looked no less than delectable. “Untie my pants,” he instructed when she hesitated.

She bent over, reaching down, her pert breasts hovering above him. He lifted hishands to her shoulders and gently  nudged her, urging her to her knees.

She knelt, untying the cord, then  worked  to loosen the lacings over his cock. He held his breath, waiting, watching, until finally she was able to spread his pants, his anxious shaft bursting free before her eyes.

She flinched at the sight, then her eyes went lusty and hot, seemingly glued  to hisrod. It made him even harder, so hard he feared he might burst.

But then he  regained his control and whispered down to her, “Pet it.”

He’d never seen his dear little wife look  so torn between nervousness and desire, but was pleased all hints of denial had long since fled the scene.

He raised his ass from  the chair just slightly,  also lifting his cock gently closer to the lovely young woman kneeling between his thighs.  “Pet it, my bride,” he said again, softand low, although he was really thinking,
 
Suck it. I want your mouth on me so badly I can taste it.

Biting her lip with uncertainty, she lifted her palm to gently stroke the length of hiscock. “So smooth,” she murmured, clearly stunned. “Like stone sheathed in silk.”

He didn’t answer, just attempted to control his breathing as she slid her hand upand down his length.

112

Rituals of Passion

“Hold onto it,” he said.

She shifted her eyes briefly to his, then followed the command, seeming to have forgotten all about protesting or  denying him. Closing her small fist around the large shaft, she sharply drew  in her breath. “So  very big,” she whispered. She lifted the rod away from his stomach, holding it up, examining it. “How does it fit in me?”

He offered a small smile. “You were made for it, bride. Made to open to me.”

She gave a slight nod, continuing her study, her eyes filled with awe.

“Kiss it,” he whispered—and when her soft  lips met the front of his cock, it nearly made him come. “Ares,” he breathed. “So good, my little wife. So very good. Now, again,” he said.

She obeyed, gently bestowing a tender kiss on his cock, then another, and another—sweet, soft and gentle—until she was licking the dot of moisture from the tiny opening.  “Ares, yes,” he groaned, letting his head  drop back in passion, his eyes falling shut.

But  he  didn’t  want  to  miss a thing,  so  he  looked  back  down  at  her, watched  her soft,

slow licks around the  head, a tiny kiss to the tip—then  she ran the end of his cock across  the closed seam of her lips, as if teasing him, as if making him beg for entry into her precious mouth.

Please.
 
So badly he wanted to say it, to beg her.

But no, he  couldn’t. Much as he disliked  playing a game with  their sex, she had  started the  battle for power, and he couldn’t succumb, couldn’t let her realize how  much control she possessed over him at this moment.

So instead he only watched her, begging
 
inside
.
 
Suck me, Maven. Please, please suck my  cock.

Her eyes narrowed with lust when they met his.
 
Either she’s going  to deny me right now, make me suffer like I’ve never suffered before, or she’s going to…

Sweet heaven.
 
She lowered her mouth gently  over the head of his shaft, making himmoan. What sweet delight, watching his beautiful young wife take him between her lips. “So good, my bride, so good,” he murmured, urging her on. “Yes, yes. That’s right.  See how much you can take.” He let out a small, unexpected laugh. “I know it’s much wider than the banana, but yes, wife, yes…take as much as your lovely mouth can handle.”

Only a few inches, but that was okay. It was her first time, after all, and even  justhaving that  much of his cock in her mouth  was the most heavenly thing he’d ever felt.  Better than Calla and her admirable sucking skills. Better even than the  twins, whosometimes gave him the pleasure of two mouths at once. Better than any otherwoman—ever. And she’d taken him willingly—he  hadn’t even had to  ask.  It was as if this was the wedding gift she’d neglected to  give him last night, now being delivered by the moist cave of her mouth, closing around him.

He lifted slightly, just  enough to  hint at movement—and as he’d hoped, she tookthe cue and began to move her lips up and  down on his dampened rod. Only after she

113

Lacey Alexander

found her rhythm did he begin to thrust, and then only lightly,  letting her continue  setting the pace. “Yes,” he whispered. “Just like that. Suck me just  like that.”

He leaned back and relaxed, thoroughly enjoying the feel of her and the sight of  her, as well.

“So good, my sweet little bride. You suck me so very good.”

His purrs of encouragement seemed to prod her on, for she managed to take him a  bit deeper as she moved her sweet mouth up  and down, and he let his thrusts increase  in accordance. He loved how  hard she worked on him, her eyes shut now, clearly  absorbed in  her task.

“Yes, yes,” he kept murmuring, amazed at how long she continued delivering her  hot delights. Even having known she was a  lusty little thing, she was amazing him now  with her complete eagerness.

It was some pleasurable minutes later that she finally pulled back, easing his shaft  out from between her lips, which now looked slightly swollen from the sensual  ministrations.

“Fuck me now?” she asked in a tiny whisper that, when he least expected it,

somehow tore at his heart.

“Oh  yes, my  lovely  wife,” he  said with great  fervor, pushing to his feet, “I  will  definitely fuck you now.” With that, he picked her up, sitting her on the table and pushing her skirt up in one brisk, smooth motion.

He wasted not another second before sinking his hungry cock into her  sweet  wetness. “Ah, yes,” he breathed. He had the strangest thought—that it felt like coming  home. But he didn’t examine  it—he only focused on the  moment, the hot, delightful  moment, and he  enjoyed her with a  new depth he’d not  yet experienced with her. Seemed every time he was inside her, it somehow felt more powerful than the last.

Curling his  hands around her ass, he pulled her tight  to him, sinking  deeper into her snug passage. She moaned and he let  out a low growl. She twined  her hands around his back, hugging him just as warmly  to her, her breasts pressing soft against  his hard muscles. “Your pussy’s so tight,” he whispered.

To his surprise, she actually let out a giggle. “What else would you expect? Yours is the only shaft to ever be inside it. Other  than  the toys during the Rituals of Passion.”

The reminder sent a fresh blast of warmth down through him. “Thank Ares,” he breathed. “I never want you to be  with anyone else.”

An odd thing to say perhaps, given that he’d taken her as his wife yesterday, which in itself implied her fidelity. But on the  other hand,  since she claimed to hate him,maybe it was not so absurd to let her know  his thoughts, feelings—to let her know thesex they shared mattered to him.

“Never,” he said, thrusting into her. “Never.”

She sobbed  at each drive of his cock.

114

Rituals of Passion

“
Never
,” he repeated, saying it again and again, making sure she heard, understood,

felt
 
the word.

“You’re
 
mine
, Maven,” he said, pumping his throbbing shaft deeper and deeper into

her sweet cunt. “Mine alone, forever.”

Maven could scarcely believe her reaction to him. It was horrifying—and wonderfully overpowering. At this unfathomable moment, she
 
wanted
 
to belong to him,wanted to pledge her whole life—her whole existence—to Dane. “Yes,” she heard herself whisper. “Yes, I’m yours.”

He hugged her tighter  to him and pummeled her harder with his tremendous cock, filling her so well she marveled that her pussy could contain him. Food fell to the flooras the table jolted. The goblet tipped over, water splashing to the floor as well.

And then came a familiar sensation—her clit  seemed to perk to life, seemed to drive her to meet his thrusts, and soon she was arching her back, rubbing against him,slowing their rhythm to something more sensual than lusty.

He followed her lead, murmuring, “Yes, my  bride, come for me. I want to make you

come.”

Clearly, he could see the new, orgasmic passion rising in her, taking over her entire being as she threw her whole body into the task now—she leaned back, bracing her arms on the table, thrusting her  breasts forward, lifting her cunt  to him  in a  sensuous dance her body had taught her all too well over the last couple of days.

He seized her breasts with his large hands, kneading her like dough, then twirlingher nipples  between his fingertips before raking his thumbs across them. She continued lifting to meet him, perhaps more aware of  her body than ever in her life. She watched her pussy connect with him, then pull back before once again swallowing the cock that had felt so surprisingly good in her mouth.

“That’s right, my hot little bride,” he purred, their eyes locked. Then he spoke slowly, his voice as wispy as smoke, his words matching her thrusts. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

Only then did it occur to her  that
 
she
 
was fucking
 
him
 
as  much  as  he  was  fuckingher. Somehow the knowledge added still more  verve to her arousal and she fucked him harder, harder, harder—until her world shattered as the most powerful climax she’d experienced yet roared through her.

“Yes!
 
Yes
!”  she cried, pushing her body against his,  soaking up the hot, racing pulses of pleasure, each one tearing  through her like a lightning bolt.

The sensations had not yet waned when Dane released her breasts, returning hishands to her ass, pulling her back tight and  strong against him. “Ares, I’m coming!” he yelled, deep  and commanding, and Maven could have sworn she almost felt
 
his
 
orgasm, too, flooding her body with warmth and pleasure immeasurable.

Like the last time they’d had sex, they slumped against one another in mutualexhaustion.  How strange, she thought, to  hold this man—her husband—against her,even as her world, her reality,  her problems, came rushing back.

115

Lacey Alexander

She thought he must have sensed it. He leaned his forehead against hers and spokesoftly. “Are you going to tell me  you hate me again, wife?” There was no rancor or taunting in his voice, only a bit of sorrow.

“No,” she whispered, but then she pulled  away from him, closing her legs and drawing her vest back over her breasts, staring sullenly at the floor.

“Then…what’s wrong?”

She lifted her eyes only briefly, felt too  much in his gaze, then looked away. “I
 
wish
 
I hated you.”

“But you don’t?” he asked softly, clearly trying to understand.

She reached to fasten her vest, then pulled her skirt down over her thighs. She still couldn’t look at him, so instead rose from  the table and started picking up the apple and other food that had fallen to the stone below. “I couldn’t willingly fuck a man  I truly hated, I don’t think,” she said, confused by her own emotions and so wearied bythem that she saw no point  in anything but honesty.  “And my body overpowers my mind when I’m with you. But I don’t
 
like
 
you or the things you stand for. I don’t
 
want
 
to be your wife. And I wish I were at home with  my family and  that  none of this  had everhappened.”

“I see,” he said, his voice quiet, sad.

Maven continued to  busy herself, tidying the jostled food, rising to set theoverturned goblet upright—anything to keep  her from looking into his hot, beautiful eyes and to help her blot out the sorrow in  his voice just now. She felt broken inside—torn between him and what she knew in her soul was right. She couldn’t accept being his possession—she just couldn’t.  Because if she didn’t respect
 
herself
, who would?

When she finally gathered the courage to  look up at him again, her heart beatingrapidly against her chest as she wondered what would come next in this passionatewar, she found he’d left the room.

* * * * *

Darkness had fallen when Maven wended her way through the garden. The fact that she couldn’t see the flowers seemed  to  intensify their lush, summer-sweet perfume.