"Bind me, then. And… and fuck me," Nexarina whispered, the words a surrender and a challenge all at once.
"My pleasure," he replied, his voice a low growl. He backed her slowly, inexorably, until the backs of her legs met the edge of the massive bed, and she tumbled backwards onto the soft, yielding mattress.
He stood at the foot of the bed, his gaze a hungry wolf's as he reached for the thick leather belt that cinched his breeches. The silver of his knuckle ring glinted in the warm lantern light as he unbuckled it, the sound strangely significant in the charged silence.
Once the belt was free, he moved over her, a predatory grace in his movements. He pinned her wrists above her head, the heavy leather cold against her skin, and swiftly bound them together. His piercing blue eyes never left hers, a silent promise of the raw, untamed desire that now held them both captive.
He secured the thick leather belt tightly around her wrists, giving a sharp tug to ensure its unyielding hold.
"Tell me what you desire," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
"Turn me over. Take me from behind," she commanded, the words a stark contrast to the turmoil within. A treacherous thought flickered: was this a genuine curiosity, or merely a desperate attempt to reclaim some semblance of control, perhaps even a twisted echo of a fantasy meant for another?
"Climb higher, then," he instructed, his voice laced with a raw anticipation.
Nexarina obeyed, shamelessly inching her way further up the silken mattress. When she had positioned herself to his liking, he swiftly rolled her onto her stomach.
His hands then moved to the delicate fabric of her blue kirtle, peeling it away with a deliberate slowness. She wriggled out of the constricting garment until only her fine linen undergarment remained.
With a deft movement, Grant raised the hem of the thin fabric, exposing the curve of her bare buttocks to his hungry gaze.
A wave of shame washed over her, hot and fierce, and a solitary tear escaped her eye, tracing a wet path down her cheek. She fought to suppress the memories that clawed at her – the searing image of his cold command, the horrifying dance of flames that had consumed her friend.
Yet, the undeniable reality remained: their marriage was to be consummated. Perhaps this was merely a… reconnaissance, a tentative exploration of unfamiliar territory.
She heard the rustle of fabric behind her, then felt the heat of his body pressing against her. A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately conjuring images of Fothergill, but his presence felt distant, fading.
Then came the slow, deliberate slide, a careful entry as if he were acutely aware of her vulnerability.
He was within.
Though not her first encounter, the sensation was jarringly unfamiliar. His length stretched her, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips, a gasp of mingled pain and surprise filling the silent room. She bit down hard on her lower lip, fighting back the instinctive cry.
"If you do not wish to proceed, tell me now," he murmured from behind, his voice surprisingly gentle before he began to move, a slow, measured rhythm.
The first few thrusts were undeniably uncomfortable, a dull ache that resonated deep within her. But with the sixth, a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips as she sank further into the mattress, acknowledging the fullness of his presence.
He plunged deeper, his own low moans now echoing the rhythm of her involuntary sighs.
Her eyes remained tightly shut, the sheer physicality of his possession driving her closer to the edge of a precipice she had not anticipated.
His movements grew faster, the insistent thrusts coupled with the tautness of the belt binding her wrists amplifying the sensations, drawing forth louder, more abandoned moans.
"Oh, goddamn," Grant cursed under his breath, his grip tightening on her hips.
Nexarina's cries, raw and uninhibited, filled the chamber, eclipsing Grant's muffled groans. With each deep thrust, she instinctively arched upwards, rising onto her knees, her bare buttocks presented high in the air.
He gripped her waist firmly, his hands a steadying presence on her hips, and resumed his relentless pounding. The sounds of their coupling were primal – the wet slap of flesh against flesh, the rhythmic thud of his body against hers, punctuated by her increasingly desperate moans, an unspoken plea for the exquisite torment to continue.
A sudden, frustrated urge to break free seized her, and she yanked sharply at the leather belt binding her wrists. In response, a sharp, stinging blow landed on her bare ass cheek. It took a disoriented moment for her to register the deliberate force of the impact.
Grant had struck her.
"Do not pull at it," he warned, his voice low and possessive.
"Why did you—agh!" She bit down hard on her lip, the sharp pain momentarily eclipsing the pulsing ache within, waiting for a lull in his furious rhythm to confront him.
"Why did you hit me like that?" she gasped, her breath coming in ragged shards, barely suppressing another involuntary groan as he thrust deep within her.
"Did you… enjoy it?" His voice held a curious edge.
"No! But… do not stop!" She squeezed her thighs together, arching further into the mattress. "I am… close."
His rhythm slowed, each deliberate stroke drawing him closer to his own release, her reddened flesh now slick against his.
With a guttural moan, he emptied himself within her, a shudder running through his body. He watched, a strange intensity in his gaze, as she followed suit, her climax a series of shuddering ripples that stained the linen beneath her.
He withdrew slowly, reluctantly, and watched as her spent form collapsed back onto the bed, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
She rolled onto her back, a single tear tracing a glistening path down her flushed cheek.
Grant's brow furrowed, his expression softening with concern. "Wait, did I… did I hurt you?"
"Damn you," she spat, the venom in her voice a sharp opppsite to the lingering heat in her loins. Then, with a sudden, fierce motion, she surged upwards onto her knees, capturing his lips in a raw, demanding kiss.
Her mouth clamped around his, her bound hands rising to frame his face, deepening the desperate embrace. She savaged his lower lip, biting down with a hungry intensity until she tasted the metallic tang of blood. Her tongue darted out, licking the wounded flesh clean.
She withdrew, a triumphant, almost feral smile stretching her lips. "I knew you would taste so good, husband," she repeated his earlier words, the possessive title laced with a newfound defiance.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, the vibrations sending a shiver that was not entirely unpleasant down her spine. He reached out, his hand tracing the curve of her cheek before pressing a tender kiss to her nose. "And you, my love, taste utterly divine."
She shoved him back slightly, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "Remove this garment. Touch me," she commanded, her voice husky. The wine, she told herself, it must be the wine.
Grant needed no further prompting. His hand swept beneath the remnants of her undergarment, pulling it upwards, baring her flushed, naked breasts to his gaze.
"You are… astounding," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed a lingering kiss to one taut nipple.
He then took the sensitive nub between his teeth, tugging and teasing with a slow, deliberate pressure. He leaned into her, his body shifting until he straddled her, his teeth still gently clamped around her nipple.
"Do you wish to hear them… slap?" he asked, his voice thick with arousal.
"Mmm hmm," she breathed, her head lolling back. "Take me again."
As his mouth continued its exquisite torment, licking, sucking, nibbling, his other hand moved to the fastenings of his breeches. With a swift movement, they were undone, and his engorged length sprang free, a stark and undeniable presence looming above her.
He shrugged off his shirt, the rough fabric whispering against her skin as he leaned back into her, his hard length brushing against her stomach, a tantalizing prelude.
Then, with a slow, deliberate pressure, his full length slid into her slick folds, stretching her with a pleasure that bordered on pain.
Her eyes squeezed shut, her head sinking into the soft mattress as the overwhelming sensation of his fullness consumed her. He thrust deeper, his gaze fixed on her face, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as her unbound breasts bounced with each powerful stroke.
The wet slaps of her flesh against his soon filled the air, a primal rhythm accompanying his deepening groans. Her eyes were half-closed, her bound hands a symbol of her delicious helplessness. A sensation akin to heaven, yet laced with a thrilling edge of surrender, coursed through her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, instinctively trying to grip him, but the stubborn belt restricted her reach.
"Untie…" she gasped, her breath catching in her throat, her moans growing increasingly frantic. "Untie me…"
Her pleas were swallowed by Grant's own guttural cries, each thrust eliciting a deeper groan, driving him closer to the precipice. Her legs tightened around him, her body moving in perfect synchronicity with his as he rode her, his waist twisting and grinding against her.
She yanked again at the belt, a silent plea. Grant, finally understanding her unspoken desire, swiftly pulled the leather free. But before she could reach for him, her hands still clumsy from the binding, he pinned them roughly to the bed, his next thrust a deep, visceral plunge that hit her core.
"Ah!" she cried out, her legs clenching around his waist as a wave of intense pleasure washed over her, her own climax shattering through her. With one final, earth-shattering thrust, he collapsed onto her, their bodies slick with sweat, both reaching their peak in a shared, explosive release.