Her body spasmed, seeking surcease, but he only intensified the pressure, the penetration, the kiss. She felt as though she was melting, her whole body just dissolving in his hands. She wanted his fingers to thrust deeper, tighter, harder between her legs, his kiss deeper, harder, hotter in her mouth. And his fingers squeezing her nipple… how did he know just the perfect pressure that made her want to run away from it, that made her want to lean into him because it was still not enough.

He pulled a breath away from her lips, as ferociously aroused as she. "I need this nipple. But I need to fuck you more."

"Do both," she whispered.

"You couldn't stop me." He pushed harder against the soaking heat of her cleft. She was wide open to him, her body squirming and writhing on the hardness of his shaft, pushing insistently against the hot penetration of his fingers. "Oh, you do like it when I'm inside you."

She made a little noise at the back of her throat.

"You like it," she whispered.

"I'll like it more when my penis is there." God, who would have guessed she was such an easy piece and ripe for the taking. He had wasted three hours before he came back for her. Three hours and he could have had her primed, and on her knees, and he could have been embedded in her, making her beg for him.

Shit. But he loved her squirming ass against the cradle of his hips, and her innocent fingers squeezing his penis head. That was worth having, too. She wanted it, and she wanted it bad; but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction-not yet-and he wasn't going to succumb to her virginal blandishments either.

Not till he could fully and completely ram himself home.

Except for the temptation of that nipple. God, he wanted that nipple. He could arouse her to a fever pitch before he even walked in the door because of that luscious nipple.

"When?" she breathed against his mouth.

"When what?"

"… fuck me…"

"You can't wait for it, can you, fancy-piece?"

"If it feels like your fingers inside me…"

"But it's much longer and thicker and harder. How do you think it will feel?"

She shimmied against his fingers. "Big, thick, hard."

"That's just how it will fill you."

"Yes…," she whispered. "Now."

"Soon."

"Don't move your fingers…" as he began to inch them out.

"Have to.

"Don't… nipple…"

"… never-"

She was so ripe down there, so ready. A moment's distress-if that-and he would possess her fully.

It was a moment to savor. And a moment that gave him pause. He was at the sticking point where, up until now, this had been but a pleasure game willingly played by both participants.

But now… now… something more was at stake: not only her virginity, but her father's trust in him.

Once he went past that point, he could lose everything, and worst of all, he could never get it back.

She knew enough now, his fancy-piece, he had taught her too damned well. They didn't need to do anything more than they were doing to play the pleasure game. As it was, it was almost too much.

"Jeremy…" Her voice was mute, pleading, made him think of a half dozen other ways to carry on.

Shit. Too late for scruples. Or to recover his fifty guineas.

She was too hot, too wet, too irresistible. He caught her up again in a deep dark possessive kiss, shifting her body slightly so that her legs were spread farther apart and he could angle his hard shaft against her nakedness.

Ah…! She felt his penis head then, as he slid it all along her moist cleft, back and forth, and then a little deeper, and a little deeper, deliciously prodding, probing, pushing, pushing, pushing, penetrating inch by slow, hard inch, fingering her hot nipple, mirroring her uncontrollable excitement as he slowly embedded his throbbing penis head in her wet, tight sheath.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…

Just there. Just crowning her entry, just the head of him. She felt it so intensely, she wrenched her mouth from his because she had to see the rock rigid shaft of him buried between her legs.

He let her feel it, feel his power, his heat, his possession. She wriggled tentatively, as if she were trying to get away, and he pushed deeper.

Let her wriggle and writhe, he thought, the more she shimmied, the deeper she took him into her. She was so slick, so tight, so hot, he was that near to ejaculating. And the feeling of her undulating ass against his hips, and the vision of his male head rooted in her, didn't help his effort to maintain control.

He couldn't move; she didn't move. He still held her nipple between his fingers. He tilted her head to feed on her lips. The tension was hot between them, explosive.

She lost herself in that kiss. This was what it meant to be possessed by a man. He had not lied. It meant this deep, dark invasion of the secret places of her body. It meant his having full carnal knowledge of every inch of her. It meant surrendering her whole body, her feminine mystery, her soul. And it meant power. The power that only sex could confer, and that mistresses had known since time began.

Her instinct had been right; she wasn't going to let him hold back. She couldn't. His magic fingers on her nipple made her wild with excitement. The feeling of him between her legs was unspeakably voluptuous; when was he going to ram himself home? She wanted it, more than ever, every thick, rigid inch of him rooted right where he belonged.

She pulled away from the heat of his mouth to whisper, "You feel so good. I want all of your penis inside me."

His body jolted upward, and he felt himself spurting.

"Who would have thought it would feel so good," she breathed, loving that her words had propelled him to erupt. "I can't get enough of it." He thrust again, feeling himself spinning out of control. "More-harder… more-"

And he was gone, his whole body involuntarily jacking upward and exploding his hot spuming cream into her untried virgin body.

It was a wondrous thing, a man's body, that even words could excite it beyond endurance; and his penis, as he withdrew it, still in a high state of arousal. It excited her to see it still rigid and slick with the essence of her.

"Oh, we're not done yet, fancy-piece," he murmured. "I have enough left for you." He levered himself out of the chair, holding her around the waist so that she was not an inch away from him, and tumbled her onto the bed. "Spread your legs, mistress. You begged for this."

She was soaking now, from his semen, from her quivering arousal, and he thrust his penis head hard into her, as deep as he could go without tearing her. She eased onto her elbows to look, to see him deeply embedded in her, joined to her in the most erotic way.

"You want my penis inside you. This"-he thrust at her and she flinched-"is my penis inside you." He drew back meaningfully, thrust just the ridged tip into her, pulled it out, thrust again, pulled it out, thrust again, pulled it out, and this time, with no niceties, no further play, he rammed himself home.

A pinch, a tear-what… oh God, he's inside me to the hilt… oh my God, oh my God, oh my God… it's so naked, it's so hard... it's so THERE...

"You wanted it," he whispered. "Never fuck with a man in heat."

She had to rally; there was no time to examine what was happening, or how she felt, she wanted to get out from under him immediately, and she wanted to stay, and all she could do was react in a way that mirrored this hard-hearted possession that she hadn't quite expected. "You're hard as a bone," she whispered, "so how long do I have to wait for you to fuck me to a faretheewell."

Hell. Bitch. How much money had he thrown at her?

"It would serve you right if I just got up and walked out forever," he growled. "Some mistresses are appreciative of anything they get." It was a game, after all. But he was damned if she was going to call the shots. Virgins were hell after they discovered pleasure. Why hadn't he taken that into consideration? "And the fact this is your first fuck-you should be grateful as hell it's not some stranger! On second thought, I am leaving…" Deliberately, he wrenched himself out of her body, so she could see the rock-hard jut of his throbbing sex. "I'll get it somewhere else."

Oh, God, no no no. Never did she think she would feel this empty, this bereft. And the worst was over. He could never hurt her again that way. And the pleasure was too much to give up out of hand. A mistake to bludgeon him with his own words like that; if she wanted to follow through on her own expressed intentions, which she did, she would have to swallow her mistake and beg.

"Don't."

"Don't. Too late for don'ts, my would-be mistress. Remember? You agreed to my terms. My needs. My wants. My pleasure. When I want it. How I want it. If I want it. That's what I paid you for. Your nipples. Your ass. Your cunt. Not when you want it. When I want it."

"Come get it, then," she said softly. "I'm ready for you." And she was. She felt the loss of him keenly, and the power, on every level. Once the initial deed was done, the rest wasn't hard at all. She wanted him, that was clear and true. And everything that implied.

He kneeled back on the bed between her legs. "That's the only thing that's keeping me here-that you're naked and I can take you this minute."

"Good," she breathed. Oh, good. She watched through knowing, hooded eyes as he inserted himself up to the rim of his penis head. She loved that, the barest tip of him rimming the folds of her sheath with the promise of all the heat and force behind it. He wanted her to feel it, his power, his strength, his virility. He had more than enough for her five times over, let alone two. He was as hard as a poker, and he wanted her to feel every thick hot inch of him as he slowly slowly slowly pushed himself into her wet tight core.

So slowly. He was so long, so strong as his hips flexed and he thrust himself inside her. And when she thought she had wholly encompassed all of his massive length, he pushed yet another inch tighter inside.

"This is what a mistress does, fancy-piece. This is how her lover likes to see her, flat on her back and dominated by his lust."

God almighty-it was too damned late to shock her. What the hell did he think he was doing? Nothing fazed her, not even his insensitive taking of her virginity. A man had to be made of iron to resist her.

"That's what I want," she whispered-and she meant it.

And that was nearly the end-of him. She loved it, every stroke, every thrust, every minute; she moved with it, she begged for it, whispering hot words in his ear, grasping his buttocks, raking his back. She felt him, every juicy inch of him, and she worked him as though she was born to be on her back and at his mercy.

And he gave her none. His control shattered, and all he wanted to do was pound them both to oblivion.

She was insatiable. There never was such pleasure, such feelings, such fullness in her. Her body had been aching for this unspeakable forbidden possession by the most devastat-ingly potent part of a man.

How could anyone live without it after experiencing that secret pleasure? She couldn't stop taking him. His mouth bruised hers, his body rammed into her savagely, pulling her with him, pummeling her until she was swamped by waves and waves of purling, rolling sensations. Never stop never stop never stop never stop… something stopped… something broke, and nothing could stop the storm of feeling and emotion that crashed over her, into her, around her, hot boiling pleasure pouring through her body and between her legs. His pleasure, his cream, hot and blasting out of him like a cannon, and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't stop it, he couldn't, couldn't couldn't couldn't-

And then one last mighty thrust-and he pitched mindlessly over and into her arms.

Desire was an insidious thing. It crept up on a man at the least likely times. He thought he was dead exhausted, and a half hour after his forceful possession of her, he was still inside her, stiff as a board, and hot to fuck her again. She didn't have to do a thing. All he needed was a vessel, and she was still soaked, thick with his cream, an image that aroused him ferociously.

He eased himself more against her, burying himself so powerfully and so deep, he could feel her pubic hair scraping against his own. He felt himself contract, and then he spurted, not the full blow, but damn and hell, all he had to do was embed himself in her and he went off half-cocked. Shit. He couldn't control anything, not her, not sex, not his unruly penis.