With Her Kiss (Swords of Passion) (13 page)

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Authors: Cerise DeLand

BOOK: With Her Kiss (Swords of Passion)

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“Won’t you be tempted to leave me?”

What I have seen of the world does not offer more than to live here.
“Never.”

“Why not? What must I give you, Bess, to make you stay?”

“I wish only to please you, my lord. Tell me what you wish and I will provide it.”

“I wish sustenance from the storms of life.”

She nodded her agreement. “I can give you that. And what else?”

“My tastes are unique.”

Praise God.
“Describe them.”

“You.”

Yes. Me.
She swayed with the hope that she would be all he needed.

“Joy.”

She smiled, her blood running hot with excitement. She had heard he liked to view chestnut-haired women making love to two or three men at one time. “I will give all I can.”

“And obey all my commands?”

“Every one.”

“Is that so?” He challenged her with narrowed lids.

Leaning forward, he gathered her hem in his hands and hoisted her skirts to hook the front into the apron band at her waist. The air on her bare skin was cool, setting her afire for his touch. For excruciating moments, he surveyed her naked assets. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out and hurrying him on. “Do you ever play with any of this?”

“I do.”

“Often?”

“Every day. Two or three times.” Her pussy quivered. Her teeth set.
I’ve been so lonely, my lord.

“How?”

“How, my lord?”

He spread her cunny lips wide with two thumbs and looked his fill. “What do you do to play here, my dear Bess?”

“I play with my cherry.”

“Tell me.” He pinched her clit and she jumped.

“I roll it to warm it and then I crush it.”
Do the same. Have me.

“Hmmm.” He circled her sensitive nub with the tip of a nail and she reeled as her cunt rejoiced with a gush of fluid. “Like this, I would presume from your response?”

“Precisely so, my lord.” Her eyes drifted closed.

“None of that, Bess. Look at me. Yes. I do like your eyes, my pretty cook. Brown with flecks of gold. Much like the hair on your head. And the curls on your mound.” He threaded his fingers through her bush and tugged, giving her labia a pull that made her cry out.

He made no remark about her outburst, but punished her by sitting back in his chair, draping his hands over his arm rests. Still, he twirled a finger at her. “I would see more of your crowning glory, Bess. Remove that silly hat and your pins.”

With shaking hands, she did as she had been bid and let the offending articles drop to the rug. With her thick tresses cascading over her shoulders and around the points of her breasts, she ached for him to comb his fingers in her curls.

“As I thought, you are a woman blessed with an abundance of hair. On your head and your lashes. As well as there, covering your quim. I appreciate all this.” He indicated her head and eyes, then gestured to her mound. “But for what you will do here, Bess, your pussy hair obstructs my view. Tomorrow, I will shave you.”

She gulped, enthralled that he would put his fingers to her hot tissue once more, manipulate her, spread her wide, hold her open and divest her of her womanly veil. “I look forward to it.”

“Eager, are we?”

She nodded like a silly chit.

“Remain so. No playing with your cherry or any other bit of your very healthy body. In my service, you are mine to command.” He waved a hand to denote her body. “Do you agree?”

“I do.”
I’d be a fool to object after working so diligently to get here.

“You will be punished if you disobey me, you realise?”

Oh, yes.
“How?”
Tell me. Make me pant.

“A paddle. A gag. A rope.”

She shivered in exquisite anticipation.

“Yet you seem a wilful woman.”

“You have the right of it, my lord.”

“As I thought.” He rose from his chair then walked to his desk. He removed a key from his pocket then unlocked a bottom drawer. From its depths, he took two metal gadgets that he rolled like dice in one hand. Then he resumed his chair. “I have been saving these for many years. For use, you see, with one special woman.”

Her blood roared. Her thighs clenched.

“Spread your legs, my pretty cook.” He stroked the length of her slit and found her cunny. Rubbing the warm metal around in her juices against her hot lips, he thrust up inside her one plug and seated it there with a deft push.

“Ohhh.” She loved the bulk of it, the weight.

“Turn around, my girl. Bend over. Hands to the floor. That’s it. Now.” He inserted one hand between her wet thighs and urged them wider. There, with tantalising wisps of his fingers, he bathed the other metal in her cunny cream. Rolling it about her labia, he drove her to a keen. “This is a charming view, Bess. But I must see more. Put your hands to your cheeks, spread open your arse crack and let me see your rose, darling. Ah. Pink. Cresting for me? Inviting me in. Such a good girl. Then here is your reward, pet.”

In one smooth move, he sank the other plug up inside her arsehole. Stunned for a moment, she clutched at the metal in both of her orifices and rejoiced that her pussy and arse muscles were so strong, so capable of receiving her lord and master’s gifts. She had practised for such a moment for years with similar toys of her own. On a shiver, she recalled a few moments of bliss she had shared with a lover so long—too long—ago.

“Turn to me.” He spun her, hands on her hips, and steadied her before him.

She cupped her elbows, her breasts engorged and pleading to be released. Her pussy pulsed, swollen and full. She could come now, merely from the plugs and the touch of his caring hands. How would she last until he decided to fill her with his cock?

He cupped her mound with his huge, warm palm, one finger sinking ever so slightly, ever so briefly into her torrid cunt. With her toned pussy muscles, she clasped him. He caught his breath, warned her of any more assertiveness with a sidelong glance, then escaped her grip.

“As you know, I have just recently come to this house. And I dismissed all the former staff, wishing for a clean break from my predecessors. Mrs O’Brien goes to Dorset tomorrow at my bidding. This means we have few staff here, Bess. My butler and one footman arrive early on the morrow. Yet I have scheduled a very important dinner for tomorrow evening. I do wonder if you can do me proud without the help of a scullery maid?”

“I can, sir.”

“Very well. I will write a set of instructions and bring them to you later. In the morning, we begin at six. I will dine in the kitchen and sample your delights for breakfast.”

All of them?
“Yes, my lord.”

“Prepare for three.”

Three?
Who else was she cooking for? Was she not to enjoy a good hump from him in the morning? Dear God. How long must she wait to be ravished by him? She fretted and frowned, yet was dutiful. “Of course, my lord.”

“No despair. You will have your reward in due time.” He reached up to slant a finger across her mouth. His appendage was the one he had driven up into her pussy. Frustrated and eager, she caught his tip and sucked it in, laving him with her tongue to clean him of her sweet cream. All the while, her gaze challenged him to pull away. Well and truly caught, he appeared captured by her ministrations. Rejoicing at her small victory, she let him go with a pop.

Though blue rage danced in his eyes at her impertinence, he smiled with a satyr’s promise and inclined his head towards the door. “Until the morning.”

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About the Author

What’s a gal to do to if she lives deep in the heart of Texas, travels often everywhere, and adores Paris, Florence, London, Tokyo and all points east and west?

Ah.

She becomes an author who can write about those romantic places. With a passion for cowboys, spies, rakes, knights in shining armour and their gutsy women, Cerise DeLand is an author who adores an alpha male with a tender heart and a need for a smouldering erotic love affair with the right woman!

Cerise is a Top 20 Best Selling author on Amazon with more than three dozen works published in erotic romance, and she is also an award-winning author of mystery, mainstream and romance with St Martin’s Press, Pocket Books and Kensington. Her books are on numerous book clubs, including Featured Selections of The Mystery Guild, Doubleday and Rhapsody. And when she isn’t dreaming up fiction or travelling? Cerise is a fabulous cook and an avid history buff.