...It was a dangerous game that Max and Claudio played. More dangerous perhaps than any they had engaged in thus far. Max looked down at Lena as she lay spread across the coverlet of the bed. He could not give her up. He leaned forward and licked the tendril of blood that trailed along her pale throat.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she moaned. He kissed her parted lips, savored her humanness. Felt the beat of her heart, tasted her…soul, the light of her now shackled to his darkness.
With his tongue he licked his way down her luscious female flesh. Her warm skin excited him. His teeth left his marks upon her body. He suckled at her nipple, drawing on it, razing his teeth across the plump mound of her sensitive breast.
Her breathing turned shallow, and became faster and faster as he sucked and teased. She undulated beneath him as he roamed her curves, his fingers tracing the flare of her hip, down across her flat abdomen, burrowing between and delving into her moist, female cleft.
He spread her thighs and tasted her sweet honeyed essence. Max flicked his tongue over her stiffened clit, and stroked over the softness of her silky inner labia lips. Such a sweet, pink delicacy. He placed her feet flat on the bed and lifted her hips, cupping her perfect, rounded bottom. He plunged his tongue into her vagina, sucking at her juices, reveling in the tight passage.
Her taste was exquisite, her innocent passion addictive.
He pulled away and flipped her onto her stomach, positioning her for his pleasure. Then he situated himself. He reached for the bottle of oil, tipped it, and watched as the golden liquid oozed along her crack. She wiggled her pretty heart-shaped bottom, pushing back against him.
“You want to be fucked?” he asked.
“Yes. You’ve made me a wanton woman, Max.” She gave him a sloe-eyed glance over her shoulder. “Why don’t you take me where most men take women.”
“You’re a virgin, Lena. I want you to stay that way until your wedding night.”
“You still mean to make me go through with it? I don’t want him. I want you.”
He positioned the head of his cock at her small bud, then pressed inside, watching as the small flower opened to his penetration.
She groaned.
His attention was on her anus and on his cock, as the tiny bud bloomed to accept him, glove him, tightly binding his prick inside her passage. He watched the ivory stalk of his erection disappear as she took more and more. He pulled back, used more of the oil, then his stiff, pale, veined length again passed inside her, inch by inch. The smooth globes of her ass glistened with the sheen of olive oil. He stroked his hands over the silky mounds as he began to rock, flexing his hips, back and forth. Circling, grinding against her. Exiting and then penetrating her again and again.
She pushed back against him, creating her own rhythm, rotating her hips. Her movements turned more pronounced and he reached around to stroke her stiffened clit. The pillow muffled her scream when she climaxed; her juices coated his fingers.
He waited. He was far from finished. Carefully he pulled out until just the plumed tip remained inside her. Teasing her.
He reached for the small diletto. Cream-colored leather, short enough not to tear her hymen, yet thick as a man’s cock; enough to pleasure her. Soft and pliant for his virgin. Enough length to keep her hot and wanting more. He pressed it to her slit, allowing just an inch to enter her. And then another. He pulled it out, then pressed three inches inside.
The glass one, longer, more exotically defined, fashioned by a friend on Murano, would be a wedding present. For later.
This toy was just enough to keep her at the edge, demanding more. Begging for relief. He locked the dildo inside her with his hand. She’d tried often enough in the past to dislodge his authority, but she’d learned how little control she had...