Nauti Temptress

“Damn, Eve, how I love your body.” He groaned behind her. “No matter what I do, it loves my touch. Loves every caress, every kiss, every penetration.”

No, she loved it. Loved every caress, every kiss, every penetration.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to this hot little rear of yours?”

She shivered beneath him, anticipation sending a rush of adrenaline tearing through her and sensitizing her body further.

“I’m going to stretch your pretty rear nice and sweet; then, when you’re taking three fingers instead of two, I’m going to leave that dick buzzing in your tight little pussy while I fuck this tight, hot little ass.”

Quivering, heat burning through her flesh, she thought the words should have been vulgar. They should have never turned her on with the force that shot through her, nearly pushing her into orgasm from the excitement alone.

Pulling his fingers back from the gripping, responsive flesh, he laid another kiss between her shoulder blades before straightening behind her. When his fingers returned they were cool and slick with the lubrication. His fingers slid inside her again, stretching her slowly, patiently. Pulling back again, relubricating his fingers, he returned.

This time the wider, burning penetration assured her he was reaching his goal.

The thought of taking him there, of feeling his cock throb inside her rear, had her juices rushing from her, spilling along the dildo lodged inside her.

“Do you like that, baby?” he crooned behind her, leaning over her to allow his lips to press to her shoulder. “You’re taking three fingers, sweetheart. You’re so hot and tight around them. It’s going to feel like sinking inside the tightest, hottest little flame. You’re going to burn me alive, Eve.”

If he didn’t burn her alive first.

His fingers pulled back. He moved over her again, supporting his weight on an elbow next to her shoulder as his lips brushed against her ear.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he growled as the thick, flared crest of his cock pressed between the cheeks of her rear and found the tender anal entrance.

“Brogan.” She was burning with excitement and a pleasure so heightened it was nearly agony. Eve’s breath caught at the feel of the broad crest pressing against the tender entrance.

Blistering, hot, the nerve endings the thick flesh stimulated sang in ecstasy, creating a feeling of such intense pleasure, such burning pain, that she had no idea which should be uppermost.

“Bring your legs together,” he said in a groan behind her, easing his legs from between hers until his knees bracketed her and she was suddenly gripping the fake cock vibrating inside her pussy as the additional pressure created a firestorm inside the delicate flesh.

It was the slow, searing impalement of her anus that was stripping her of any sense of reality, though. With each roll of his hips, each press of the thick cock head working its way inside her ass ravaged her self-control.

“Brogan.” She gasped his name, certain she couldn’t bear another touch, yet desperate to be touched everywhere.

Unclenching her fingers from the blankets at her sides, Eve slid one hand beneath her, her fingers finding the achingly hard tips of her breasts and enclosing one between her thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, God, Brogan, please. Please . . .” The sharp flare of heat that pulsed from the nipple she rolled and tugged at with burning pressure struck her to her clit, to her womb.

The muscles of her anus clenched around the throbbing tip of his cock, making her hungry for more as the vibration in her pussy rippled through her clit with an intensity she had never felt before.

His free hand gripped her hip as his lips smoothed down her neck, over her shoulder. As his teeth gripped the base of her neck at the point where her shoulder met the sensitive column, the head of his cock slipped fully inside the clenching, quivering entrance and sent a shocking surge of pleasure through Eve so intense it bordered on agony.

A hoarse, throttled scream escaped her as her hips jerked, lifting, pressing closer, fire and ice streaking across her nerve endings as her senses slipped into chaos.

“You belong to me, Eve,” he urged her softly, the deep, sexual tone of his voice sliding across her consciousness with an eroticism that pulled her deeper into the dark sensuality holding her captive.

There was no room for deceit, no place to hide or to deny what she knew was the truth.

“Tell me, Eve,” he demanded, his tongue licking over the bite before his lips moved to her ear. “Tell me you’re mine, Eve.”

“Yours,” she cried desperately, her anus clenching involuntarily as she fought to press closer, to drive his cock deeper.

At the same time, his hips eased forward, the added pressure suddenly driving the broad head past the snug ring of muscles that tightened in response to the pressure before the burning width cleared it. Ecstasy and agony poured through her senses. Fire and ice raked over nerve endings that seemed bared to his touch and screaming out at the overstimulation.

Her hips jerking, her back arching as she felt him drive in to the hilt, Eve cried out in tortured pleasure as her senses expanded in brutal awareness.

Sliding his hand between their bodies and finding the base of the dildo vibrating inside her pussy, Brogan found the controls. The gentle rasp became a furious, never-ending pulse of sensation that traveled through her vagina to the point where the nerve endings of her clit met the rarely touched flesh high within her pussy.

The stimulation rocked through her body as his hips moved behind her, driving his cock into the milking tissue of her rear.

Each stretching, burning stroke sent spikes of ever-increasing sensation tearing through her senses as she felt Brogan’s hand gripping her wrist, pulling her fingers down her body as he drove his cock inside her, stretching her anew with each thrust.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he growled behind her. “Let me feel you stroking that pretty clit, baby.”

Mindless, she concentrated her senses fully on every fiery stroke into her rear as the dildo’s hard vibration and the stimulation of her fingers against her clit sent rapid, driving pinpoints of sensation surging through her.

“Fuck, yes,” he snarled behind her, straightening, both hands gripping her hips firmly as he began to move harder, faster behind her.

He dragged his cock fully from the gripping channel, only to return immediately, fucking her to the hilt as an agonizing ecstasy tore through her, raking her senses with burning force.

Each hard thrust pressed the dildo deeper inside her, as each retreat lessened the pressure. Harsh groans spilled from her lips as each rasp of the vibrator’s tip against inner muscles connected directly to her clit had her begging—begging, pleading with the rapidly increasing pace of the strokes of his cock.

Eve couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She wasn’t going to survive.

“Fuck. Eve . . .” The growl of male ecstasy came as she felt herself unraveling.

Sensation. Agony. A pleasure that bordered on insanity.

Her orgasm tore through her, melting her senses as her pussy, the spasming muscles of her milking anus, the hard throb of her clit exploded in excruciating sensation. She was flung into rapture. Brutal waves of agonizing pleasure battered her senses as each nerve ending seemed to explode, sparking a conflagration inside her body that wiped her mind and sent her hurtling through chaos.

Fear could have dragged her back. The complete destruction of her senses could have been weakened by an inborn sense of survival that would have driven the sensual creature exploding in rapture back into the confines of her body.

But she wasn’t alone.

Brogan flew beside her, his spirit wrapping around her, infusing her, holding her secure in a world of blinding, overwhelming ecstasy.

She was crying. She could feel it, sense her own tears as the exploding pleasure threw them higher, harder, and bound her closer to the man leading her through each chaotic storm of rapture that tore through her.

The feel of his release spurting against the naked nerve endings inside her anus was an added pulse of sensation, another explosion.

“Mine,” he snarled, his lips at her cheek, the growl surging through her with another pulse of sensation. “Tell me, Eve. Tell me.”

“Yours. Yours,” she said in a sob. “Oh, God, Brogan. I love you. I love you . . .”

He owned her.

EIGHTEEN

Brogan awoke with Eve cradled in his arms, the warmth of her naked body invoking a response he was certain he wasn’t quite ready for.

Hell, he wasn’t ready to face the warmth he could feel moving through him. The warmth threatened to overtake him and claim parts of him he hadn’t known existed until Eve. He felt drained, physically and emotionally, but his cock was assuring him it was more than ready to rumble.

He smiled against her hair at the thought. Her cheek was cradled against his heart, his arms holding her snugly to him, and for a few short minutes he actually contemplated going back to sleep. Until he felt her breathing pattern change, and he swore he felt her wake up.

There was an awareness that he could feel moving through him, a gentleness, an initial confusion and then a feeling of contentment and satisfaction.

“I didn’t expect you to be here when I woke,” she muttered with a drowsy smile against his chest as the fingers of one hand curled against the mat of hair that covered his chest. “Do you know how good it feels, Brogan, to awaken with you?”

He knew, because he felt the same. He didn’t just feel his own contentment, but he knew he was feeling hers as well. It had to be hers, because it was completely different from what he knew contentment felt like.

It was gentle; it was innocent. And Brogan knew he had no innocence left inside him. His innocence had been ripped out of him the day he learned his child had been deliberately destroyed before it could even begin to live. An innocent life barely formed because a condom had failed and had somehow acquired a tiny, tiny hole at the tip.

It had been so long ago, he should have forgotten it by now.

It had been years ago, and it still felt like yesterday.

“What?” she asked, watching him closely.

“What?” He shook his head, confused.

“That look on your face,” she told him. “What were you thinking?”

He breathed out heavily. “I was engaged once.”

“The fiancée who aborted your baby?” She nodded, her palm flattening against his chest comfortingly.

Pushing her hair back from her cheek, he watched as it fell about her face and over her shoulder.

“Like you, my father wasn’t married to my mother,” he told her softly, his fingers tangling in her hair as he felt a sense of comfort wrapping around him. “Like yours, my mother struggled—until I was five, when she was murdered by a drug-crazed teenager who had stolen a gun from home and came to the diner she worked at looking for a meal.” He shook his head bitterly. “If he had asked her, she would have bought him a meal, but he asked the owner first. When the old bastard wouldn’t feed him, he pulled the gun and shot Mom in the head. Then he turned back to the owner and asked again. He got the meal. He sat and ate it as Mom bled out on the floor and the customers in the diner rushed to save themselves.”

“I’m so sorry, Brogan,” she whispered, her compassion wrapping around him.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he let his hand cup her cheek for a moment, drawing in the gentleness that was so much a part of her.

“I want you to understand,” he explained. “As I said, I was five. My father didn’t know I existed. When Child Services showed up on his doorstep with me, he looked down, and I saw disgust curl his lip when he said, ‘Hell, I paid her to abort the little bastard.’”

Her eyes widened in outraged pain.

“He took me in, though.” He sighed. “Two weeks later I was in a military school four states away. I came back to Somerset during the holidays and for summers and stayed with my aunt until she died in a car crash when I was sixteen.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">