Instinct assured him Zoey was far more innocent than even her virginity implied, though. For all her bravado, her sweet mouth was as much virgin territory to a man’s cock as her pussy, and he knew it, sensed it.
“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged as her hand brushed his away to grip the base herself, her tongue licking, loving the throbbing head.
The wide, thick crest pulsed a bead of pre-cum, the droplet quickly caught by her eager little tongue as it swiped over the dark, sensitive crest.
Ropy veins pounded with blood; pleasure throbbed through the heavy shaft, swelling it further, harder. Delicate fingers had no hope of meeting as they caressed the iron-hard stalk, her tongue licking, playing. And he wanted nothing more than to watch, to feel those pouty lips stretching, reddening as the thick flesh pierced them.
“Look at me, witch. Open your eyes, let me see your pleasure,” he groaned as she tongued the sensitive undercrest with delicious little licks, fraying his already thin control. “Let me see your pretty eyes.”
Thick, long lashes lifted. Her pale green eyes, now ringed with the brilliant darker green at the outside of the iris, nearly did him in. Before he could cover her fingers with his own, showing her where to apply pressure to hold back his release, a pulse of semen spilled from the slit topping the crown to meet the heat of her tongue.
She stiffened; a breath later her mouth enclosed the throbbing crown with the sweetest, hottest pleasure he knew he’d ever experienced in his life. Just watching it, watching his brutally hard flesh stretch her lips, feeling her hot mouth close on him, was almost too much for his control.
As long as he’d been sexual, as many experienced women as had worked his dick over, he’d never felt such a blinding source of complete, white-hot sensation.
Her mouth moved over the throbbing head, her tongue tucking at that too-sensitive spot at the undercrest naturally, and she began to suck. Moving her lips over him, advance and retreat, the ring of emerald deepening at the outside of pale green.
“Fuckin’ witch,” he groaned, a hint of his Irish heritage slipping into his voice, his hands tightening in her hair, hips lifting to her, pushing the hard flesh deeper as he forced her fingers to apply the pressure needed to hold back the cum building in his balls. “That’s it, fuck me with those pretty lips, witch.”
The emerald ring brightened, the color like a thin ring of jewels, and she struggled for a second with the width of his flesh.
“Ah fuck . . . Zoey.” Her fingers played at the base of his shaft, the pressure easing, increasing as hunger began overtaking innocence, and she followed his lead, learning far too quickly how to make him crazy with her mouth.
Her lips and tongue were destroying him.
Tugging at her hair, giving her that little sting, he was rewarded by her mouth sinking lower, taking him deeper.
The sound of a low moan easing from her throat was almost a vibration at the crest. His balls tightened at the thought of taking her deeper, of piercing the tight confines of her throat, of teaching her how to give him a pleasure no other woman had ever been able to push past the lessons of previous lovers to learn.
He was the first to own her mouth. She had no preconceived blocks, no memories of overeager lovers trying to take too much too soon.
His balls tightened at the thought, drawn so close to the base of his shaft that it was torture.
And he had to hold back. Ah hell, nothing mattered but holding back and watching her eyes as he taught her how to destroy him with her hot little mouth.
As he tugged at her hair again, her mouth slipped lower again. He was desperate now, as talons of excessive carnal need dug into his testicles with a merciless grip.
With his free hand he found the curve of a breast, his fingers gripping the hard point of her nipple. Watching her eyes, seeing the growing excitement as she realized where he was headed, Doogan held her mouth in place and pressed his cock further over her tongue.
“Deeper,” he demanded, finding her nipple with his thumb and forefinger and exerting the lightest pressure.
The needy moan that slipped from her was all he needed.
Pulling back, watching her lips surround him, reddened and filled with his flesh, only deepened the hunger for more. To take more. To teach her the ultimate pleasure a woman could give a man with her mouth.
Pushing back inside, slow, feeling her mouth tighten, her tongue rubbing along the undercrest, dragged a groan from his chest.
“Take me deeper, baby. Can you do it, Zoey? Can you open that sweet throat enough to give me just a taste of it?” he dared her as her mouth tightened around the fiercely engorged crown. “Give me your throat, you little hellion. Swallow on my cock.”
He gave her the pressure she needed on her tight little nipple, rolling it in a heated grip, releasing it, tightening as he watched her eyes grow dazed.
Her lips eased further past the blunt width filling her mouth, slowly, taking him by increments as she felt her way through the act.
“Breathe in through your nose, deep.” It was all he could do to speak as she breathed in and he thrust deeper.
The heavy width of his cock head slipped to the entrance of that ultratight spot.
“Now swallow,” he groaned. “Damn me, baby, swallow on me,” he groaned.
She swallowed on the pressure, moaned, and sent racking shudders of violent pleasure ripping up his spine.
“Ahh fuck.” He pulled her head back, watching, holding her in place with the pressure on her hair, tugging, giving her a little burn as he let his fingers tighten on her nipple.
As he gave her the fire he thrust deep again, her mouth tightening, throat opening. She swallowed, moaned, that ring of color deepening around her iris, excitement blazing in her expression.
She was loving it. Moving on his cock, slow and easy, learning what she could take, what she couldn’t. And she was taking far more of him than the oversensitized flesh could bear.
Ah hell. He couldn’t take much more. His balls were so tight, so full of his cum he couldn’t bear it. When he released, it was going to be like touching death. Could he survive it? Would he recover from a pleasure that deep?
A harsh groan tore from him when her lips slid down again, his cock pushing in deeper . . . oh fuck, that little bit deeper . . .
“I’m going to cum, Zoey.” He had seconds. Only seconds. “And you’re going to take it,” he snarled, hips bunching, self-control disintegrating. “Every drop, Zoey. Oh God—every fucking drop . . .”
Her moan vibrated on him, the sound a rush of sharp, brutal pleasure.
He was dying.
He sank that little bit deeper. Just that little bit, enough that when she swallowed and moaned, he lost his senses. Lost all control.
“That’s it. Fuck, Zoey. That’s it. Take me.” He pulled back, thrust past her lips, watched her eyes, and fucked straight to that hungry throat again. Again.
Doogan watched that color of her eyes glow, her long drawn-out little moan sinking into the head of his dick, and he lost it.
“All of it,” he rasped, the brutal sensations racking his body before shattering with such brilliant pleasure it tore through his senses.
Flames danced over his balls when she released the pressure at the base of his shaft. Lightning ripped up his spine. His cum shot from the throbbing, engorged head and she swallowed.
“God, yes. Swallow on me, baby . . . ah hell . . .” Swallowing, her tight little throat clenching on the end of his cock head, rippling over it, pulling another brutal pulse of semen to her throat.
Fucking moaned . . .
“Ah hell. Ah, Zoey. Sweet, sweet fucking mouth,” he rasped, pulse after pulse of his semen spilling to her, his release so deep, so deep, so fucking sweet—and she was shuddering, racking tremors racing over her, shocking him as her cry pulsed around his cock and had the next jetting explosion of cum shooting from him with a violence that dragged a groan of pure agonized pleasure from his lips.
He had nev
er, at any time, had a woman find her release from excitement alone, her orgasm rippling through her from the act of giving him such pleasure. Never had a woman taken him with a natural desire to give rather than take, to pleasure him and to find her pleasure while doing it.
Until Zoey.
Until she destroyed him with her hot little mouth and he was afraid, branded his senses in ways he’d never be free of. In ways he’d have to force himself free of when his job in Somerset was finished.
When the last agonized pulse of semen spilled to her greedy mouth, Doogan drew her head back, watching as she straightened before him, dazed, existing on instinct alone. His jaw clenched when she slid her fingers down her belly, moving for the swollen bud between her thighs. To finish finding her pleasure. To ease the pressure no doubt racking her swollen little clit.
“Oh hell no.” He caught her wrist, drawing it from her body.
“Doogan, I have to.” She tried again. “It wasn’t enough. I need . . .”
His fingers tightened on her wrist. “I could tie you to the bed if that’s what it takes.”
Heat flushed from her breasts to her hairline. Her eyes widened and pure, raw hunger spiked her dazed eyes.
“Oh, Zoey, baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You have no idea how good it can get . . .”
FIVE
What was he doing to her, to himself?
He’d asked himself that question when he’d taken her mouth. He’d known what he was doing to her when he’d taught her how to pleasure him in such a way. He was marking her, marking her innocence, marking each pleasure she experienced, each touch she learned, as his.
He was branding her sexuality.
Just as he knew what he was doing to both of them as he did so.
He was marking them both. Marking her with his hunger, with a soul-deep ecstasy he knew he’d never found with another woman. Knew he’d never find again. And he was marking himself with her innocence, with watching the glazed pleasure building in her eyes.
Instead of obliterating the sensual innocence, though, each touch, each pleasure seemed to heighten it.
Staring at her now, spread-eagle before him, her wrists and ankles secured loosely to the bedposts, he wasn’t surprised in the least to find his cock rock hard again. As though he hadn’t cum with a violence that shattered him as he shot his seed down her throat. He was just as hard, just as desperate to spill into her again.
As he knelt between her thighs, his hands stroked over her, priming her, sensitizing every inch of flesh further before he began building the storm he could glimpse in her eyes. Regret nearly tore a groan from his chest, though.
God, walking away from her wouldn’t be easy and he knew it. Having her learn the truth would be even worse.
“Why are you teasing me like this, Doogan?” she whispered desperately, tugging at the bonds now, trying to increase the sensation of each light stroke against her body. “I’m dying.”
She was so sensitive that even the lightest caress against her perspiration-damp skin drew a moan from her lips. The emerald ring around her iris was brighter, darker, mesmerizing if he wasn’t careful.
“Doogan, please . . .” she demanded.
“Not yet. Soon,” he promised, bending to brush his lips against hers as she panted for breath. “Trust me, Zoey. Let me give you this. You trusted me enough to tie you to your bed; trust me to know how to touch you, to give you the ultimate sensations and pleasure.”
She moaned, her eyes still dazed, the arousal riding so high inside her that even her smooth, silken belly was flushed with it.
“Will I have a mind left when you’re finished?” She stretched beneath him again, trying to arch against his touch as it trailed down her side.
“You will, but I doubt I will,” he admitted, loving the feel of her sleek, lightly tanned flesh.
Trailing his fingers to her breasts once more, he leaned closer, caught his weight on one elbow, and cupped a swollen breast, his thumb brushing over the violently sensitive peak of her nipple.
“A woman can orgasm from only having her nipples stimulated,” he told her, blowing a breath over the tight peak and watching the reddened color deepen at the brush of air. “Your nipples are so sensitive, so eager for pleasure. I bet I can give you another of those hot little orgasms by doing nothing more than sucking these hard little nipples.”
Her pupils dilated, her body jerking with a rush of sensation that he knew would be peaking in her womb.
“Shall we find out?” Lowering his head the last inch needed, he lashed his tongue against the pebble-hard tip, her low, strangled moan his reward.
She was so sweetly responsive. The arch of her body, her broken moans, the way she loved every touch he gave her. It made him want to push her higher, give her more.
“It’s good, isn’t it, baby?” he whispered before letting his teeth rake over her hard nipple.
A cry tore from her, her body shuddering against him.
“It won’t take you long, Zoey,” he promised. “Once that little, lightning-quick pulse of release hits you, then I’m going to take my kisses to your pussy. It’s going to be so wet, so wild by the time I get down there that you’ll think you could cum so easy.” The thought of it was killing him, making him ache for the taste of her wet flesh. “It won’t be so easy, though. It’s going to take so much more than you can imagine. That’s when your body is so ready, so primed for that explosive edge of pleasure and pain that when I spank that pretty flesh you’re going to beg me for more.”
Her eyes widened. Before she could process the sensual threat, his lips surrounded her nipple, his teeth raked against it, and his entire body flinched at the sound of the little wail of deepening need that escaped her lips.
He’d end up killing them both with pleasure.
For damned sure, he was going to destroy them with the loss of it once it was over.
—
“Doogan, please . . .” Zoey panted, trying to arch beneath him, the feel of moist heat surrounding her nipple, drawing on the tender tip, heightening the brilliant arcs of sensation torturing her, nearly more than she could bear.
“It’s so good,” she sobbed, arching, writhing beneath the pressure. “More. Harder.” She cried out her demand as his teeth nipped gently, and then his mouth drew on her more firmly.
He was killing her.
His lips moved from one nipple to the other, his mouth torturing one as his fingers applied a destructive pressure to the other. And it wasn’t enough. She needed more.
More of the pleasure, more of those fiery lashes of intense sensation that made her clit more sensitive, made the moisture weep from her vagina.
“What do you need, baby?” he whispered against the throbbing peak, licking over it. “Tell me what you want, Zoey. What do your hard little nipples need?”
What did she need? Everything. So much more.
“More,” she cried out desperately, shuddering, burning beneath him. “Please, Doogan. I need more.”
His lips surrounded the peak again, drawing on it deep, his cheeks hollowing before the pressure released, his lips pulled back, and she watched his teeth catch the too-sensitive tip and worry it with nibbling bites that had fiery pleasure streaking through her entire body.
Why had she let him restrain her like this?
She needed to get closer to him. To touch him. To find a way to make him release the agonizing pressure building between her thighs. Her clit was so swollen, so sensitive she couldn’t bear it. Moisture lay in a heavy, slick layer on the bare folds of her sex, sensitizing her further.
Racking shudders of sensations kept racing over her, clenching in her womb, driving her mad.
And he wasn’t sucking her nipple hard enough.
The pressure was teasing, tormenting.
“Damn you, harder,” she cried out, panting, barely able to breathe. “I need harder. You’re killing me.”
She was fracturing from the inside out with the desperate need for
him, for more sensation, a higher level of pleasure. She could feel it, just out of reach, waiting for her, teasing her.
Until his teeth clenched around her nipple.
An involuntary wail tore from her lips, the fiery pleasure tearing through her and almost, just almost peaking.
“Doogan, yes,” she cried out, trying to lift to him, to urge him to bear down harder. “More. Please, Doogan. Please.”
She’d never known pleasure like this. Never experienced such deep, overwhelming waves of electric sensation that raced over her flesh like sizzling static. She twisted into each flash of it, writhing beneath the hungry draws of his lips, the feel of his teeth rasping, nibbling a sensitive tip as his fingers played with the other.
And no matter how much she begged, she couldn’t find that sensation, that lash of deep, fiery pleasure-pain she knew would push her over the edge. Her fingers clenched, fisting, the shudders building through her as Doogan gave a heavy, hungry groan against her breast.
His teeth clenched on one tip; his fingers tightened on the other. Sensations lashed through the peaks like lightning tearing through her body and exploding with pleasure.
Another wail escaped her throat, racking pulses of ecstasy shuddering through her as that peak suddenly flamed around her, through her. Trembling, shaking beneath the racking tremors, she thought surely it would be enough.
But it wasn’t enough. As the waves of searing pleasure eased, the growing pressure, the need built again. It tightened through her body, throbbed inside her vagina, and pulsed in a desperate ache at her clit. Shaking, trembling in such overwhelming need she thought it would surely destroy her, she sobbed in furious need.
Then he began licking, nipping his way down her body, burning a trail of sensual hunger to her thighs. She realized that despite the explosion of pleasure, the pressure building in her sex had only tightened. It throbbed in her clit, her vagina, to a tormenting level now, a fiery ache, such extreme pleasure, a roller coaster of sensations. She loved every one even as she fought to release the clawing desperation they built inside her.