Naughty Temptations

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Mason sucked in a breath as Ana shifted closer. He licked his lips again, savoring the taste of her orgasm. She tasted just as he remembered—musky, yet sweet. He’d awoken from dreams many nights the past year hard and craving her unique flavor. He still could barely believe that she was here with him. That she’d allowed him to strip her naked and pleasure her.

Kneeling in front of him, naked except for the jeweled n****e clamps swinging from her ample breasts, her stockings and shoes, she was the embodiment of every fantasy that had crossed through his dreams, both waking and sleeping, over the past year. Even when he’d been hurt and furious when he’d thought that she’d left him without a word, he still wanted her, still loved her. When he’d finally read the letter his mother’s boyfriend had reluctantly handed over to him, he realized he’d been an angry fool and made up his mind to do everything in his power to win her back.

Her lush, thick red hair was coiled at the back of her head, making her long neck appear fragile. As she bent forward, he could see the vulnerable nape and wanted to nibble it. Her warm breath wafted over the head of his c**k. Every muscle in his body flexed in anticipation. Liquid seeped from the tip. He wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.

She blew gently, laughing softly when he shuddered. Her light laughter rocked him to his core. He hadn’t expected to ever hear that beautiful sound again. “Witch,” he muttered.

She glanced up at him, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” She curled her tongue around the bulbous head before lowering her mouth over the top and sucking. His hips jerked forward, but she was already moving on.

Bending down even further, she traced a large blue, pulsing vein all the way to the base. He could tell she was having trouble reaching while both of them were kneeling, so he levered himself up on his knees to give her a better angle.

“It would be even better if you could stand up.”

It was difficult, but he dragged himself to his feet. Now it was his turn to grip the back of the sofa for support.

“Perfect.” She leaned in and traced his scrotum with her tongue before gently tugging one of his balls into her mouth and sucking. The warmth of her mouth surrounded him as she tongued him.

Now that he was standing, he had a better view of her—the delicate curve of her back, the soft globes of her behind as she bent forward, her stocking-clad legs with those killer red shoes. He hissed and a bead of perspiration trickled down the side of his forehead as she released him and nuzzled his testicles.

Then she picked up the pearls.

Holding the long strand in her hands, she rolled it up his turgid shaft and then back down again. Heat pounded through his veins and his c**k flexed toward her as if asking for more. And she gave it.

She repeated her actions several times before slowly wrapping the strand around his erection. Staring up at him, she began to pull the pearls upward. The action caused them to tighten slightly even as they rolled up and off, stroking the sensitive tip.

“Ana,” he groaned. He was surprised that he could still speak. Lust more powerful than anything he’d ever felt for her before fired his blood, demanding he f**k her hard and fast and lay claim to her body and soul.

She wrapped the pearls around the base of his c**k again and then she lowered her red, swollen lips over the bulbous head, sucking it into her mouth. As she sucked his length deep, she tugged the pearl strands up and down the lower half of his shaft.

His hands dug into the back of the sofa. He was surprised he hadn’t driven his fingers through the damn fabric. This was erotic torture at its finest. He couldn’t take much more. Never wanted it to end.

His testicles were drawing up tight as she pulled her head back and twined her tongue around the top again, dragging it across the slit. “You taste good.” Her low, husky voice and her warm breath almost shattered him. “Hot and salty and all male.” He sucked in a breath and sought control.

The pearls rolled up his length and then back down again. Up. Down. Up. Down. His control shattered. Reaching down, he yanked her to her feet. The pearls dangled from his c**k. His mouth captured hers. Conquered it. Owned it.

She whimpered as he thrust his tongue in, mimicking the s*x act. His hands roamed down her shoulders to the small of her back as he gathered her close. Gripping her hips, he tilted them upward, grinding her pelvis against his erection. They both groaned when the pearls rolled up his shaft and stimulated her c**t at the same time.

Her hands were tangled in his hair, holding him close. He loved the sting of her nails as they grazed his scalp. She was as desperate for this as he was.

Mason pulled back, licking at her lips. What lipstick she’d had on was long gone and some of her mascara had smudged. Her few freckles stood out against her flushed skin. She looked earthy and sensual as she parted her lips and moaned.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, grabbed the end of the jeweled pick that held the intricate knot and tugged. The hair ornament came free and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders in a fiery curtain. With the stones of the n****e clamps shimmering against her milky white breasts and her hair wild and free, she looked like a pagan goddess.

And she was his.

It took all his willpower, but he stepped away from the sofa and slowly unwound the pearls from his erection. He gritted his teeth against the pleasure that was bordering on pain. Spreading the strand wide, he slid it over her head and let it fall between her breasts. Then he turned her so that her back was against his chest.

Reaching around her sides, he smoothed his hands over her torso, stopping just below the undersides of her breasts.

*****

Anastasia shifted restlessly. Her p***y ached to be filled. She’d been so close to coming again while she’d been sucking Mason’s c**k, sliding it in and out of her mouth. She wanted him to come in her mouth, wanted him to lose control in that way, but she understood why he’d pulled away.

He wanted to be inside her when he came. And she wanted that too. They’d been apart for so long it was almost as if this was their first time.

The pearls were heavy around her neck and the n****e clamps seemed even tighter. His hands rested just below her breasts, almost touching her but not quite. His c**k was nestled against the crease of her behind and she arched back against him, settling it even firmer between the globes of her ass. The high-heeled shoes made it harder for her to stand, but they also made her feel sexier. Somehow with the shoes and thigh-high stockings on, she felt more naked than if she’d been wearing nothing at all.

He moved his hands ever so slightly. His fingers began to slowly trace the sides of her breasts. With each stroke, he shifted his touch slightly closer to her n*****s. She undulated her hips and he groaned.

He jerked slightly, his fingers brushing her n*****s, causing the jeweled strings to swing. Anastasia cried out. Her core melted as her v****a contracted, sending cream flowing from her slit.

“Mason!” she cried. He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, shoving her hair to one side so that he could nip the tender skin between his teeth. She sucked in a breath and whimpered as he bit harder. It was going to leave a mark. He was marking her. Claiming her as his. She hadn’t had a hickey since high school, but the gesture was primal. Exciting.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You,” she managed to gasp out as his hands shifted lower on her belly. She spread her legs in anticipation.

“What do you want me to do?” His finger toyed with her bellybutton ring before moving still lower.

“f**k me, Mason.” She grabbed his hand and tugged it between her thighs, crying out when he plunged two fingers into her core and withdrew them just as quickly. Her skin grew cold when he stepped away.

“Bend over and grab the edge of the sofa. I want to see your pretty little ass in the air and your legs spread wide.”

She gasped as his rough demand sent even more heat to her p***y. She could picture herself like that and wanted it as much as he did.

She leaned forward, braced her hands on the sofa and bent low until her forehead was touching the fabric. She knew that pushed her ass high into the air. Ever so slowly, she shifted her legs apart. The pearls dangled from her neck toward the floor. Her breasts were heavy as they hung suspended in air, the added weight of the n****e clamps adding to her sensual pleasure. “I’m waiting,” she purred. She might be the one bent over the sofa, but she sensed it was Mason who was closer to the breaking point.

His hands clamped down hard on her hips as he wedged his own hips between her thighs, pushing them even wider. The thick head of his c**k squeezed just inside her slit. Mason gave a rough groan and stilled. “You’re so tight.”

“It’s been a year,” she gasped as he pushed himself another inch deeper.

“For me too.”

She knew that he wanted no doubts left in her mind and she believed him. Mason had never lied to her and she had never lied to him. What they had done was not tell each other everything they should have.

All thought of their failed marriage fled when he suddenly thrust himself deep. He didn’t stop until he was seated to the hilt. His face fell against her back as he sucked air into his lungs.

Her thighs quivered and her legs trembled. She couldn’t stay in this position much longer. “Hurry,” she whispered.

Gentle kisses feathered down her spine as he stood upright behind her. Banding one forearm around her waist to hold her tight, he pulled back until only the tip of his c**k was still inside. He thrust hard and deep before withdrawing almost all the way again. He did this again and again. His hips moved quicker and quicker until he was pounding his c**k into her.

Her feet left the floor several times, but he held her steady in his iron grip. Time lost all meaning. There was only the sound of their gasps and moans and the slap of their flesh as they joined together again and again. The smell of s*x surrounded them. Her breasts jiggled with each thrust, sending a shaft of pleasure pulsing to her core.

She was burning from the inside out. Her v****a contracted. Her muscles tightened. Her scalp tingled and her toes curled. His fingers slipped between her thighs, feathering over her distended c******s. She exploded.

Anastasia cried out her husband’s name as he drove his c**k home one final time. Pleasure suffused her from head to foot. Her name poured from his lips as his hips jerked. Warmth filled her as he came, making her cry out again.

Shivers racked her body as she tried to breathe, her lungs sucking in much-needed air. Her legs finally gave out, but she didn’t fall. Mason held her tight, wrapping both arms around her waist. Her forehead rested against the back of the sofa.

As her body began to relax again, she became painfully aware of her awkward position and moaned. Mason stood immediately and pulled his softened erection from her. Her inner muscles contracted as if trying to keep him from leaving. They both groaned.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the sofa, not relinquishing his hold on her as he lowered them both to the cushioned seat. Ever so carefully, he removed both n****e clamps and tossed them onto the coffee table. Leaning down, he laved both redden tips. “I shouldn’t have left them on so long the first time.”

“They’re fine. Just a little tender, is all.” The pearls were warm and heavy around her neck, reminding her of their legacy of love. “Do you really think we have a chance to make a go of our marriage?”

His turquoise eyes were dead serious as he brushed several long strands of red hair over her shoulder. “I really do.”

She snuggled closer to him and his arms flexed possessively around her. “I do too,” she whispered as she nuzzled the hair on his chest and allowed her body to rest against his. For the first time in a year, everything in her world felt right again.