Fractured Freedom(44)
“Sometimes it’s best to let them work themselves out over time,” I said.
“Right.” Suddenly his hands left my back and landed on either side of me as he lifted himself up and over my body to straddle me. His legs encased my hips, and the pressure when his hands returned to my back was a whole new level. “Guess we’re going to have to approach this a new way. Settle in for something a little more intense.”
His hands rolled the stones over kinks in a more aggressive way, slowly but with angles that dug in and under those knots. I wiggled beneath him as I tensed at the pain that felt so good.
Every knot he undid, I moaned in relaxation.
“You still don't know what your body needs the way I do, Lamb,” he whispered behind me.
I almost cried as another knot unraveled. How could he work every part of my body right? How did he know the spots that needed help?
Something in me shifted, and after the last few days of having him near me, I couldn’t really blame my body for wanting him the way it did. I tried my best not to roll my hips under him, but the next knot that released caused a reaction in me I couldn’t stop. I ground my pussy down into the bed, and with him straddling me, I knew he’d felt it.
“Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you know exactly what you need now. Tell me,” he rasped out into my ear, and my eyes shot open to stare over my shoulder into his.
I bit my lip, not sure of what to say, not sure we could cross that line. Was that what he was asking? Did I care?
This was supposed to be the place I jumped in, where I went for it without hesitation.
I couldn’t say the words, but a whimper and a nod were all he needed from me.
He dragged a finger down my jawline and then pulled my lip from my mouth. “Use your words, Lamb. You’re more experienced than last time we were here, right?”
I gulped in a shaky breath, my heart pounding so loud, I’m sure we both heard it. “Yes.”
He growled at my confession, like he hadn’t really wanted me to admit it. “Then tell me. What do you want me to do? You need a massage on your back or …” He lifted himself from me and then flipped me over, parting my legs for his body to be in between them. His hand dragged across my belly and up to my chest. “Or is it here? So experienced that you know what you need now?”
I gasped as he gripped one breast and rolled it around. The lace against my nipple had me wanting to cry out, but I wanted things harder, faster, rougher. I gripped his wrist and pushed his palm into my chest as I arched into it.
I knew what I wanted and here, with his hands on me in Puerto Rico, I was going to take it.
13
Temperature Play
Dante
She’d been so wrapped up in a name that, for a second, she couldn’t see who I was, who I’d been and who I’d always be to her.
Armanelli.
That name had been bound to come out during all this anyway, and she needed to know who she was dealing with. Still, the way she looked at me when she found out my true last name, like I could hurt her, like I was capable of that shit.
It had me storming back into her room to put us in our rightful places. And when her shirt came off, I knew I wasn’t leaving until I had my hands where they belonged.
“See, Little Lamb. I know what you need because I know you and you know me.” I pinched her nipple, and she practically purred as she ground her pussy against me.
“I don’t know anything.” She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut but kept rocking her body back and forth as if she couldn’t get the release she wanted.
My hand slid up her thigh as her breaths came faster. “What do you need to know?”
“I don’t know, Dante. This isn’t the time,” she ground out, and her eyes shot open to glare at me. Gold and green and brown and beautiful, all mixed with fire.
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry, Lamb.” I slid my thumb so slowly it must have been painful over her slit, pushing just hard enough that her panties caused some friction.
Through clenched teeth, she said, “Stop playing with me, Dante. This is basically—”
“Torture?” I nodded, keeping my eyes on the way her face blushed, how the swell of her tits was now stained with the same pinkish hue. “I’m aware. There’s a ton of ways to torture a human.”
“And that’s what you intend to do?”
Her hands gripped my wrist, but I freed myself to take two small stones I’d put on ice near her bedside. I maneuvered one so it was between my thumb and forefinger, the other between my middle finger and pointer. When I moved my other hand to her clit and pushed one rock against her slit, she hissed. “I intend to make you see that my torture for you is seduction, my punishment is pleasure, and you’ll only fear how much your body can take.”
She moaned as her hips rocked over the stone, trying for more leverage, but my hand was big enough to rub her clit and hold her pelvis in place. This little lamb was mine.
“Look at your arousal, shining so fucking pretty on this stone through your panties and shorts. You ride everything like this, Lamb?” I asked her. “You make it so wet, it could slide into you for you to warm it up.”
“Oh, God. Please do it. Please.” She begged because she knew I was right. I knew her pussy wanted anything in it at this point.