She scrambles to obey my barked command.
I don’t allow myself to think about how wrong us acting on our attraction is as I look at her. All the reasons this is taboo are faded, a distant hum compared to the immediacy of her. Eagerly climbing onto my bed, waiting for me. And I can’t deny that when I don’t remember exactly why this is wrong, the lure of the forbidden makes her all the more appealing.
“So beautiful,” I murmur as I sink down to sit on the bed before her. We have all night, so I gaze into her eyes and curl a blonde tendril around my finger. Incredibly soft. Her expression is trusting now, open and curious.
I sweep my hand into the silk of her hair, and gently draw her to me.
Our lips meet. A questioning, slow kiss, this one. A prelude of music, testing both players. Hot breath and supple skin. Everything about her is soft. The skin of her cheek is a contrast to my own as our mouths brush. Where I’m harsh, she’s yielding.
I’m slow in deepening our kiss. First coaxing her mouth open, then dragging my lips over to dally at her cheeks. By the time I slip my tongue in to touch hers, she’s whimpering and has crept forwards. Sweet, so sweet.
Drawing her to sit over my lap I allow myself to roll my hips, my aching shaft pressing into the yielding part of her belly.
Her hands find the back of my neck and my shoulders, timidly exploring and anchoring herself as our kiss intensifies.
I’ve never been so turned on by a mere kiss. It’s because she’s Anwyn: the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, and the bravest. From turning up at a mafia boss’ home because she needs refuge, to taking kidnap and being drugged in her stride, with no screaming or panic, Anwyn is stronger than most people twice her age.
I’ve had almost a whole day to absorb that my innocent girl has a tattoo of leaves over her breast, peeking out from her strappy top. I’ve been entranced by the revelation of her hidden self since I saw it when I laid her into my bed. So pretty, and clearly a reference to her study of plants as well as a rebellion. I love it and I’m desperate to see it all.
I can barely breathe as I lift off her tease of a camisole and reveal her glorious chest and the rest of her tattoo. I stroke my palm over the black ink first, admiring the art she chose before the beauty she was born with. The continuation of the pattern is fronds pointing down to her nipple, finely worked and elegant. I trace the design, then go where it leads: her breasts.
A small handful, they fit into my palms and she looks at me shyly, from under her lashes as I cup them and drag my thumbs over both of her nipples simultaneously. That makes her mew with need, so I give in and bring my mouth to the sensitive flesh I’ve revealed, tonguing and teasing her with gentle bites. My sweet girl.
She lets me unwrap my perfect little present. I leave slow kisses wherever I peel off clothes. I lick her skin; I’m a beast, tasting her and leaving my scent on every part. Next are her pyjama bottoms, baggy over her legs and riding low on her hips. I can’t help but feel she’s a gift for me as I pull undone the bow she’s tied at her navel.
Mine.
I mouth the possessive word into her neck as I slide my hands over her smooth buttocks and drop the fabric down her thighs. I squeeze the creamy flesh and force her to me, flexing my hips the slightest amount to ease the need and ramp up the tension. She gasps at the sensation of hard into soft. My cock against her belly.
Mine.
For tonight, she is my captive and my lover. Mine to pleasure and protect.
If I ever doubted whether she held all of my heart, that doubt ended the instant I saw that man standing over her, hurting her. I almost regret killing him outright. I’d like to have the option of murdering him repeatedly, torturing him for laying a finger on her.
No one will ever hurt my girl again. Not even me, unless she asks for it. Damn but I wouldn’t mind pulling her hair or smacking her bottom.
My cock is seeping precome, but all I want to do is touch her. I want to explore her body until I know every dip, every sensitive place, and sweet clever girl that she is, she understands that I need her naked, and lifts herself to wriggle out of her remaining clothes.
“Hold my shoulders,” I tell her when she wobbles trying to get out of her shorts.
The good thing about being almost forty is that even though I’m aware we only have this single night together, I know not to rush. Twenty years ago—hell even a decade ago—I’d have tried to hurry. I’d have sought to do everything in these few special hours we have. Now I know that this time is a gift to be savoured, not an invitation to run towards some goalpost that would leave us both unsatisfied. I want her to remember this for years to come as a perfect introduction to how a man can make her feel.
How I make her feel.
So when she reaches for my trousers, although my cock aches, I let out a soft sound of disapproval and guide her away.
“No fair,” she complains. “Don’t I even get to see your chest?”
I sigh and I’m not sure if I’m irritated or amused, flattered or turned on that she’d like to see my body. I suppose it is more covered, as a rule, than hers.
“Did you mean to torture me with those little dresses you wore?” I ask as I strip off my shirt.
Her lips twitch and she fails to hide a satisfied, naughty grin as she regards the muscles I’ve revealed.
“Minx,” I growl. “I’ll make you pay for that.” I drag her close again, kissing and exploring her body. She’s equally greedy, still reaching between my legs.
I need to control this before it gets out of control. I trap her wrists where she has unbuckled my belt, grabbing first one hand then the other and pinning them at the small of her back. She arches into me and arousal flares from my heart to my cock at the sight and feel of her caught. Under my command.
Completely naked for me. I can’t get enough of touching her, pressing my fingers in where she’s soft and nipping at her where it makes her cry out. I sweep away her hair from where it covers her breasts and give it an experimental tug. She lets out a sigh and rocks her pussy into me.
Mmm. Filing that information for later.
“Are you wet, darling?”
“Maybe.”
Such a brat. A complete disobedient tease, my girl. She’s perfectly diligent with her studies, but with me she can be naughty.
“I bet you are,” I say between kisses. I’m going to have her thighs as earmuffs, to drown out the chant that I’m a bad man for wanting her and a worse one for taking this. Finally.
And I’ve got an idea about how to make this even better. Hotter. A moment I can claim her, that she won’t forget.
Jealous rage sparks at the thought of some fool in the future not making her come like I’m going to. I ignore it.
Releasing her hands, I lie back on the bed, smiling at her expression of alarm and curiosity.
“I want you to sit on my face.”
“What?”
“I said, sit on my face.” I make my tone deep and commanding.
A snort of laughter escapes her. “I can’t! I’ll squish you. And I haven’t showered.”
“I don’t care,” I say roughly. I reach for her, but she resists. There’s a gleam of arousal in her eyes, but she shakes her head.
“I’ll suffocate you.”
“Let’s hope.” I grasp the ripe handfuls of her arse and drag her forwards. As soon as she’s within range I lunge and give her a greedy lick.
She squeaks with surprise, and holds herself away.
Nope. Not accepting that. I urge her down onto my mouth, tongue fucking her as I do.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” I admit harshly. “About how you’d taste.”
“How do I taste?” she gasps out, a thread of worry and also defiance in her words.
“Fucking delicious. The best flavour I’ve ever known.” I stroke her thigh. “Now give me your pussy properly, darling.”
She slowly lowers herself fully to my mouth as I lay my head on the sheets. I don’t hesitate. I eat. I feast. I cover myself in her sweet and salty taste, gorging. I hold her in place with both hands on her plump arse as she writhes and pants.
“That’s it. Ride my face,” I encourage her as she gains confidence. “Use me. Give me your orgasm, it’s mine.”
She’s all mine, and her wet slit is heaven. Feeling her soft folds on my tongue and giving her this pleasure—I’m certain this is her first time and I’m savagely happy to do this for her.
We’re both figuring out how she likes this, so it’s not instant, even though I can feel how worked up she is. She’s soaking. Her honey dribbles down my chin, and it’s a fucking badge of honour.
I lick and nibble. I suck. I shove into her hole, fucking her with my tongue. I listen to her every moan and feel how she moves into some motions and stills on others. And then I find it. Firm, long licks from her tight little hole all the way over her clit. She shakes. It drives her crazy.
“My good girl.” Then I go at her harder with those licks that I’ve discovered. She moans and I don’t stop. My tongue is aching. My jaw is cramped. Don’t care. Nothing will ever be as perfect as she is.
Then I get my reward.
I feel it before she cries out. A tightening. A pulse.
She sobs as her orgasm overtakes her, legs going weak, falling forward onto her hands above my head. Finally she fully rests her weight on me as I gently lick her through the jolts and shudders. The way her pussy clenches makes my cock even harder.
I’m so stupidly proud. Of her. Of myself. I’m the most influential kingpin in London, and obscenely wealthy, and I want to beat my chest that I’ve made my girl come all over my face.
Look, no hands needed. Ha.
She slumps and I can’t hold onto restraint any longer. I lift her off my face and lay her back onto my bed, a ruined girl, all mussed hair and tired limbs.
Then I’m kneeling over her. Anwyn’s eyes are hazy with lust as she looks up at me, wrecked, her hair gleaming sunshine and caramel, all over the pillow, her lower lip plump and red from where she’s bitten down on it as I made her come.
I need relief. I told myself I could deal with not coming, but that was a fucking lie. I’m a beast and while I can manage not to take her virginity, I am going to mark her. I free my erection and my fist is over the leaking head, stroking up and down, enjoying the moment before her eyes even go wide.
My grip is brutal and my chest is heaving. I look at her all I want, gaze skittering from her breasts to her face, down to her exposed cunt, wet and swollen from my ministrations.
“You’re so gorgeous,” I tell her as the pleasure coils at the base of my spine.
“No, you are.” Her hands find my fine-wool-covered thighs, not even naked skin because I was too desperate to do more than pull out my aching cock. She burrows her fingers between the fabric and my skin as though she needs to feel me as much as I did her.
Over the last six months we’ve both kept our eyes and hands to ourselves, and now the cumulated greed is unassailable. She clasps my leg like she’d keep me here, knelt over her, knees either side of her thighs, and looks at where the hair trails down my pecs, over my abs and to my cock.
There aren’t words for this moment. Everything is both of us taking what we need. A lifetime’s worth of seeing each other after far too long waiting.
“I’m going to spill all over you,” I grind out. “I want to see you with my seed on your lovely skin.”
I swallow back the other words. Words of my desire to shove my cock in as deep and hard as it will go, right to her womb, and spill there. To breed my good girl.
“Yes. Yes, I’m yours. I want it.”
This is so dirty, so wrong. I’m going to come on her face. Her breasts. I should be ashamed to make her filthy like this. So young and innocent and I’ve corrupted her, and now I will mark my territory.
I’m an animal as I shove my cock into my clenched hand and imagine it’s her virgin pussy.
“Ben. Please.”
That does it. Pleasure so intense it’s almost sharp wracks through me. But I’m not so lost I can’t aim at the parts I want to see white all over. Her breasts. Belly. Chin. It drips down her neck as my muscles twitch and tense.
“Good girl,” I breathe.
Through the glow, I regard Anwyn. Naked. Covered in my seed. Her pert rosy nipples are stiff, and the come slowly dribbles over the curve of her peachy breast. Her skin was perfect before, but with the reams of white? With my scent all over her? Even better.
Mine.
The best moment of my life is the pleasure combined with that sign of possession. Or perhaps that was making her come, on my mouth and so intimate. Who knows. I love seeing her like this, her eyes bright and a smile curling at the corner of her mouth, confident and sexy.
“You look so pretty painted with my seed,” I say eventually. And yeah, that’s the right comment as she breaks into a grin. Happy. And I return the smile, hope a bubble that encompasses us both to float into the velvet night sky.
I gather her up into my arms, her legs gripping my waist, and it’s messy. Ejaculate smears onto my pecs. Her wetness brushes my lower stomach. She buries her face in my shoulder and wraps her arms around my neck as I carry her to the bathroom.
I sit on the edge of the massive claw-footed roll top bath as it fills, holding her spread on my lap, collapsed onto me. I stroke her back and the sticky wetness I spilt over her glues us together. As steam fills the air, clouding the room, I whisper that she did so well and how much I liked feeling her pulse and writhe. How I want to do it again, and make her scream louder.
The words I restrain are those of love. How I want to be all her firsts and her always, how she owns my torn and hardened heart, however worthless it is. Keeping this physical is the only way to survive it. I tangle my fingers in her blonde hair and tell her she’s such a sexy good girl.
I lower her into the bathtub when it’s full, and when I’m about to ease away, she grabs my hand.
“You get in too.”
“Wrong way around, darling. I give the orders,” I rumble.
“Please?”
The one thing that will melt me. I’m already pushing off the last of my clothes as she looks up with those big blue eyes. I’d bow to her. Only her, a queen for a kingpin.
I focus on not crushing her as I step into the bath at her back. She can’t know how much I need her, because this isn’t forever. Scarred, brutal men do not hold onto women like Anwyn. Sweet. Innocent. I’m undone by her, and I suspect my heart is in my eyes now the lust is temporarily slaked. Clever kitten that she is, she’ll notice the change. Six months I’ve kept all possessive instincts under wraps, and one damn night has blown it apart.
I keep her facing away from me and wash every inch of her body. I pull her to lie on my chest and contentment seeps into me as I care for her and have her close. Her pretty breasts, made for my hands, get more than their fair share of washing until she’s moaning and rubbing her arse onto my hardening cock.
When we’re both rinsed, the strokes get less to do with being clean, and more for the enjoyment of pinching her nipples and stroking her clit. The flutter of her pleasure as I make her come again is stabler ground.
I can segment my love for Anwyn and my need to protect her away from the demands of my cock. I have to. That my heart wants her snuggled against me, skin to skin, is more problematic and I block that off.
I hold her as she shakes and pants and when she’s boneless, I lift her from the water and indulge in patting a towel over every curve. She’s exhausted, eyelids shutting and leaning against me.
“Should I go…?” she asks as I lean over to pick her up.
“No.” She belongs with me. I sweep her into my arms, bringing her back to the bed and laying her in the middle. “Stay here tonight.”
“But—”
“No.” Absolutely not. The uncertainty in her sleepy voice kills me. “Until we get the door unlocked in the morning, we’re together. That was the deal.”
One forbidden night. The only question is: how will I ever let her go?
