Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(18)
She obeyed, revealing her glistening pussy, the pale expanse of her inner thighs, the crease of her pretty buttocks below. With her arms lifted above her head, her breasts were tilted up, the pink tips there for his mouth or hands. Like every inch of her fair skin, as well as her heart and soul beneath it.
He shed boots and trousers at last, now as naked as she was. But as he put his knee on the bed between hers and loomed over her, he detected the unconscious flicker of trepidation in her eyes.
Animal instinct. She didn’t fear him, but there was a scintillating part of her in a moment like this that registered the difference in their strengths, his intent, knowing he would not be denied…unless she truly did not want him.
Maybe Matt Kensington and Savannah Tennyson, CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, were the roles, whereas the conqueror and queen were the real truth.
He had to make her his, and she craved his absolute possession, in a way the modern world would likely never understand, especially when such a strong woman needed that surrender the way she did.
He trailed his fingers over her legs. “Wider,” he said roughly.
She complied, pupils getting larger and breath shortening. He stretched out over her, bracing a hand by her shoulder, curling his fingers in the thick miles of hair swirling around her on the mattress. Her lips parted, tongue touching one.
Taking himself in hand, he guided his cock into her. He stayed above her as he slowly pushed inside, watching her shudder, her body rise and fall to take him, inch by blissful inch. Then, seated to the hilt, he began to thrust. He denied himself any contact except that one point, his eyes on her face, hands braced on either side of her shoulders, her trembling legs staying wide as he’d ordered, and open for him, though he could feel her yearning to wrap herself around him. But the obvious way he was doing this, claiming her in a pose of total control, was both the perfect culmination of her fantasy and an experience of the deep, primal connection between them. Master and sub… Conqueror and queen.
Her pussy rippled over him, her eyes glazing, lips moistening, breath starting to rasp.
“Come for me, and prove you’re mine,” he growled. “Keep your legs open and down.”
It made the climax a slow, torturous build for them, because he had to stay slow, careful not to hit his woman at the wrong angle, while still giving her the indirect friction to clit and sweet spot. It took them both up so slowly that he could feel the heat closing in around them, getting stronger, hotter, promising a full immolation when it exploded into climax.
“Matt,” she cried out. “Please…”
Now at last he laid down upon her, let her wrap her arms and legs around him, hold him to her as he also circled an arm around her back and gripped her ass to plunge even more deeply into her cunt. It pulled a full scream from her and a whimper right behind it, the moan of a dove.
“Matthew…”
She was one of only two people who called him that. His mother had been the other one. He needed to tell her that, the bridge between the two women he’d loved the most in his life.
He made her spin off that cliff first, but he was right behind, to catch her as he fell. She cried out her release in his ear as he groaned at the force of it, the spurt of his seed inside her spasming cunt, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her breath against his neck.
They came down the way they’d spiraled up—together—and he stayed in her as long as he could, holding his weight on his elbows, kissing her face, her throat, curling his back to suckle her nipple or tease the cleavage between her soft mounds with his tongue. Until finally, with a reluctant sound from them both, he slid from her. But he wouldn’t go far. He only moved to her side, cradling her in his arms. She tucked her head under his, and they held one another silently, everything that needed to be said in that contact.
Both of them spent.
“That was perfect,” she said softly at long last. “Thank you.”
Matt grunted, tangling his fingers in her hair. They could hear the rush of water near the tent opening, telling them it was high tide. The smell of the fresh sea air mixed with the scent of sex and her. Not a bad perfume. “The things I’ll do for you. Hope you’re grateful.”
“Never. That would feed your ego far too much.” Savannah tipped her head back and gave him a smile. “Though you probably shouldn’t have done such a good job. I’ll be wanting role play all the time. I have many fantasies about a stern Master.”
Matt chuckled. “I’m afraid drama will never be my forte.”
She scoffed. “What do you call that night you orchestrated in your office?”
“That was a planned takedown. Very different. I’ve employed similar tactics in deals with competitors.”
“Oh, really?” Her eyes sparkled. “If you ever try those tactics during a meeting with Richard Lewis, I want to be there. He’s a handsome man. That whole silver fox thing.”
Matt shuddered. “No more male/male erotic romances for you. I strictly forbid it.”
She laughed. “They’re for Dana. I have to read them aloud to her because she says they aren’t available in Braille.”
“She’s a compulsive liar,” Matt declared. “She just likes hearing erotic literature read aloud to her. Particularly in your sultry voice.”
Savannah smirked at him, but pressed her palm to his, bringing their hands into the air before them as she caressed his fingers and he did the same, idle finger play as they enjoyed lying together.