Heather's Gift (Men of August 3)

“Toys, perhaps.” She shrugged, a grin tugging at her mouth. “Are you shocked, Sam? I told you I had a vibrator.”

“What kind of toys?” His imagination was killing him now.

She shrugged, her slender shoulders rising, lifting her breasts against the material that covered them as she watched him with more amusement than the fear he thought she should feel.

“All kinds of toys, Sam,” she said softly. “I’m technically a virgin, not physically a virgin.”

His brows snapped into a frown. “You didn’t tell me that before,” he growled.

“Would it have made a difference?” she asked him, her voice husky. “What business of it yours, anyway? You made it pretty plain you had no intentions of going to bed with me.”

Sam could feel his body nearly trembling with excitement. His imagination was going wild, imagining her spread out on his bed, her legs open to him as she used one of the more unique dildos he could buy for her. Moving it in and out of her bare pussy, stroking herself, moaning…

“Fuck.” He drew in a hard breath, staring at her accusingly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because you asked.” Her smile was a challenge in itself.

His cock was so hard it hurt. Harder than he could ever remember it being in his life. His hands itched to touch her, his mouth watered with the need to taste her.

“Heather.” He closed his eyes, fighting his desires, his sexuality. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

His sexual appetites were raging now. She had thrown gas on a fire already burning nearly out of control. When she didn’t answer him, he opened his eyes. She watched him, equal parts innocence and seductress as he fought for control. Her lashes lowered over her eyes, a sexy, knowing move that broke his resolve.

Before he could convince himself once again how disastrous the consequences could be, he moved to her. He glimpsed the surprise on her face an instant before he flipped her over on the couch, holding her down as he jerked the hem of her gown up over her bare ass.

Dear God. One hand held her shoulders down as he straddled her legs, restraining them. Her hips were raised, the cheeks of her butt clenching, all cream and peach perfection. Well rounded, full globes of beauty.

“Stay still,” he growled as she bucked against him once again.

To reinforce the order, his hand landed firmly on one pale cheek, flushing the flesh marginally with a warning tap. She stilled, but he heard the hard catch of her breath, felt her body tremble.

“You have no idea what I want, Heather,” he bit out, his hand stroking over the silken flesh of her butt once again. “You think you’re ready for me. You think what you’ve heard about with Marly and Sarah is who I am, what you can expect. You’re wrong baby…very, very wrong.”

He smacked her ass again, just enough force to flush the other cheek and have her moaning, confused, fighting to separate the pleasure from the pain.

“Sam,” she moaned his name, her voice questioning, shocked.

“I want to tie you down,” he whispered, coming over her now, tucking his cloth-covered cock into the crack of her ass. “I want to see you stretched out on my bed, leather restraints holding you in place while I show you pleasure you never imagined existed. Helpless. At my mercy. Screaming out for me while I take you places, Heather. Places you’ve never imagined existed.”

She wiggled against him, the cheeks of her rear flexing around the erection separating them.

“Yeah, tighten on me just like that, baby,” he whispered in her ear as he caught her wrists in his hand, shackling her to the couch with his strength. “That’s how you’ll tighten when I bury my cock up your tight little ass. Just like that, Heather, while you scream, because you don’t know if it’s pleasure or pain.”

His free hand moved beneath her hips, forcing its way between her thighs as she bucked against him, panting, but not denying him. Damn her, she should have been screaming out in fear. Instead, heaven help him, his fingers found hot, slick moisture, thick syrupy need that collected in the narrow slit of her cunt.

“Sam, you’re a tease,” she accused him roughly, heatedly.

He stilled, his hips pressing hard into her.

“A tease?” He couldn’t believe she had said that.

“A damned tease,” she moaned. “Take those pants off and fuck me or get off me.”

He chuckled. “Do you think it’s that easy, Heather?” he asked her silkily, his fingers rasping over her swollen clit. She shuddered beneath him, her breath catching.

“Oh, you’re close.” He grinned at her neck, his teeth scraping the delicate skin there. “Poor baby. Can your toys do this for you, Heather?”

He gripped her clit between his thumb and forefinger, then delicately, with the utmost care, began a gentle milking motion on the sensitive little bud.