Conquering His Virgin Queen

That was what his look told her before he dropped to his knees and began pressing open-mouthed kisses along thighs that had never even known the touch of a man, let alone the hot trail of his tongue.

His lips moved away from her thighs and she felt him press that same mouth that had toyed with her only moments before against her wet core. She felt the pressure of his tongue through thin fabric of her thong and she cursed it—shifting her hips beneath the gentle pressure he maintained, desperate for him to remove the last barrier between them. She cried out loud—a keening sound that she could not recognise as herself—and somehow she knew that he was smiling.

She shifted her legs, brought her foot up to rest against the corner of the table and used it to push herself further into his kiss.

And he took instant advantage, allowing the lift of her bottom to pull the tiny thong down around her thighs. Her fingers moved of their own volition, reaching for the thin ties to pull it off, but his hand reached out and held her, stopping her in her tracks.

‘No,’ he commanded.

With her thighs held in place by the binding of her underwear, stretched almost to the breaking point, he dropped his head and with one long stroke of his tongue almost brought her to orgasm. Almost—because she knew he could tell how close she was and he stopped.

He was playing with her, and in that moment she both loved him and hated him for it.

* * *

Never in all his life had he tasted anything so sweet. He knew how close she was to orgasm, and thanked his lucky stars that she had no idea how close he was. With his thumbs he massaged the inviting hollows just above the juncture of her thighs, opening her further to him. He let the pad of his thumb caress that delicate bundle of nerves and was surprised by the jolt that ran through her.

Never before had he felt so powerful. Never before had he seen such an instant reaction to his touch. And he couldn’t help himself. Again he thrust out his tongue and swept it across her—this time not for her but very much for him. And he was rewarded with the one thing he had wanted since he had been mad enough to touch his lips to hers earlier that evening.

His name on her lips echoed out into the room and he swept his tongue across her once more, just to hear it again. He wasn’t disappointed.

‘Please,’ she whispered, her voice fractured by her breathing. ‘I want to feel you. I want to feel you inside me.’

She was begging now, and he’d never heard anything so good.

He smiled against her thigh, shaking his head. He couldn’t speak—he didn’t want anything to intrude against the sound of her pleas.

He plunged a finger into her and felt glorious as her hips thrust her further and deeper against him. Her thighs, still bound with the ties of her thong, began to shake and her chest lifted from the table.

He lifted his free hand and placed it back on her chest, sweeping beneath the material of the halter-neck and gently tightening his fingers around the taut nipple he found there...

* * *

With one last stroke of his tongue Odir pushed her over the edge of an abyss she hadn’t realised she’d been on the brink of ever since he’d taken her mouth with his. She felt herself shatter into a thousand pieces, totally overridden by a million sensations that she couldn’t put into words. She was mindless with a pleasure she had never experienced before—so much so that she didn’t have time. Time to think...time to prepare herself, to warn him.

He had slipped the thong from her thighs and cast it aside. He had undone the fastening of his trousers, and stepped out of them and his underwear. He had freed himself and positioned himself between her thighs. He had waited until her body was racked again with the aftershock of her orgasm, and now he entered her with one long thrust.

* * *

It was the sound of her cry, so different from any that had come before it, that alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. It was only then that he registered the thin barrier he had pushed his way past in his eagerness to find his pleasure, to find his fulfilment. And it was only then that he stopped himself completely. Holding himself impossibly still when everything in him—everything—screamed for him to continue.

‘Eloise...?’

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’ll pass. Just...just don’t move. Not yet.’