“Yes,” she cried out. She lifted her bottom, presumably to give me better access. I fit my hand more firmly between her thighs, one hand on her back, holding her still against me, as the other plundered. “Oh, dear God,” she cried out.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Miss Winters. It’s wrong.” My voice held a longing I’d never expected.
“Don’t stop,” was all she could say.
I had to stop. I couldn’t keep doing this. It was wrong. So, I shoved her from my lap. A bit too roughly at first. But then I gentled my trembling fingers and lifted her with gentle pressure. I caught sight of that little tuft of hair between her legs and stopped. I caught her skirts before they could fall, holding them high as my hands settled on her bare hips. I brought her forward until she was forced to climb upon me. She took me between her thighs like I was meant to be there. I grabbed her bum firmly in my hands and pulled her forward until she rode my cock. The heat of her penetrated my trousers.
“Your trousers will get wet,” she warned.
She whimpered as I set her from me. But it was only long enough to free my cock from the confines of my trousers. I had to feel her. I had to know her. I had to have her. I had to feel her wetness. There was no turning back. I pulled her forward. But she stopped me with a hand pressed to my chest. Then she reached between us and grasped my cock. The slit wept for her, and she circled it with her thumb, the big purple head aching. She swiped her thumb across the trickle of liquid that seeped from the end and brought it to her lips. I thought I might spill myself right there, between us. I groaned loudly. Groaned for her. For all the things I wanted to do to her and couldn’t.
“Can you put it inside me?” she whispered, her fingers threading into the wet hair at my temples.
I shook my head. I couldn’t have her, no matter how much I wanted her. But she rocked her pussy against my cock, her wetness spreading over me. I fit my cock against her nub and she picked up a rhythm so that I rubbed it. She rocked back and forth, her hands holding tightly to my shoulders. I took over, pulling her forward and back. Rubbing her against me. Little mewling sounds tumbled from her mouth.
“Just a little,” she pleaded.
“It’s wrong.”
She took me in her hand and propped me at the opening of her womanhood.
“No,” I protested. But I didn’t withdraw. I just stayed there, the heat of her wrapping around me like a fist. “No,” I groaned.
Then she began to rock on me. The head of my cock slipped along her folds, hinting of entering her but not doing so. I would go mad with wanting her, I was certain of it. But she was just a girl. She was in my care. Not even a whore. She was an innocent. Her juices leaked down my shaft to touch my stones.
“No,” I groaned long and loud.
“Please?” she whispered. Then she touched her lips to mine. I devoured her like I’d never taken another. I wanted to explore every piece of her. To be one with her. To put my mark on every inch of her.
“Maybe just an inch, so you can see what it feels like,” I said hesitantly. I could barely hear my own words. I could put just a little inside her. Just a tiny bit to see what she felt like. I didn’t have to compromise her. I pressed forward, my hands kneading her arse. She stretched ever so easily around me as I sank just the head inside her. “I can’t go any farther,” I said.
“Yes, you can,” she pleaded.
“It’s wrong.” I cupped her face in my hands and looked into her eyes. “It’s wrong.” It’s wrong. So wrong.
I didn’t move, but she sank down ever so slightly on me. “No,” I groaned. My eyes closed and my head fell back as she took more of me inside her. I thought I would die a slow death. “Stop,” I commanded. But she didn’t listen.
She slid down my length, taking more and more of me, and her pussy stretched around me. The noises she made almost made me come inside her. She felt like heaven, all tight and pulsing around me. She didn’t stop lowering herself until she had taken all of me. Taken every inch of me inside her. Oh, dear God. What had I done? I bent and nibbled at her shoulder, trying to keep from coming inside her. She stopped moving when she had all of me inside her. But I pulled her hips lower and screwed into her, taking even more of her. I’d already breached her. I might as well have it all. So perfect. So snug. “This is wrong,” I groaned as I sat there with her impaled on my cock. I refused to move. I just couldn’t. I would shoot off like fireworks if she so much as clenched me.
“It’ll only be wrong if you stop,” she coaxed.
“An innocent no longer,” I whispered. Then I began to move. I lifted and lowered her on my cock until her head fell back, her mouth open in pleasure, her hair tickling the backs of my hands. She looked so wanton, so hot, so perfect, so pleasurable. I shagged her. I shagged a little innocent. A little innocent rode my cock like a whore. And I allowed it.
“An innocent no longer,” she confirmed. This inflamed me. Without taking her off my cock, I stood up. My trousers fell around my ankles as I stood and sat her on the edge of my desk. I didn’t withdraw. I couldn’t have if I’d tried this time. I didn’t withdraw from her. In fact, I took more and more of her as I pushed her legs wide and looked down at the place where we were joined. Her body swallowed my cock, her folds all swollen and pretty. My cock was slick with her essence as I tunneled into her.
“So lovely,” I crooned. I strummed my thumb across that pulse point, the one that was overruling my common sense. She clenched my cock even tighter as I stroked inside her. Her breaths were coming in heavy grunts now. The noise blew across the shell of my ear. “No one has ever been inside you. You’re so tight. I’m the first.”
Then she broke. I didn’t expect her to shake so violently in my arms. But she did. She cried out loudly, clutching my shoulders. Her body convulsed with every stroke of my cock. I erupted inside her, shoving myself to the hilt as she took everything I had to give her. I stilled when it became painful to move inside her. I was too raw. My soul was too bare.
“You are a siren, Miss Winters,” I said. When my breathing slowed, I chuckled and withdrew from her still-pulsing sheath. It was almost painful to retreat from her. But I knew I had to.
“You are a rogue, my lord,” she sighed as I lowered her legs to the floor.
I buttoned up the front of my trousers, tucking my length inside. My British accent disappeared along with my manhood. “Where did you get the costumes?” I asked.
“Costume shop,” she twittered at me. She’d left mine on the bed with nothing more than a note. Without question, I’d donned the suit and met her at her request. I never turned her down.
I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “Can I be a highwayman next time?”
“I was thinking of a stable hand. One who seduces a lady?”
“Oh, nice.” I said, making the vowels last. “I like it.” I dropped into my chair and turned toward my computer. “What time are you picking up the kids?”
She glanced at the clock on my desk. “In ten minutes,” she said. Then she scurried toward the door.
As she started down the hallway, I thought about her fantasies. “How about a priest?” I called to her retreating back. She could force me to lift my cossack and take the little virgin. Oh, yes, she could force me to defile her. God, I loved my wife.