Rival Desires (Properly Spanked Legacy 1)

“Miss Layton.” His rough voice drew her attention, and he held her gaze. His green eyes were not soft and kind now, but alive with desire. “God help me, I want you. Perhaps it is the situation. The fire.”

“Sir, you have me. I’m here.” Why couldn’t she speak above a whisper? All her energy was elsewhere, in the teeming tips of her breasts, in the aching throb between her legs. “I feel as if I’m on fire right now.”

“I do, too.” He slid a hand down to touch her quim just where it throbbed, and it felt too good to stop him, or protest about proprieties. He traced his finger over a tiny, needful bit of her flesh in such a way that she wanted to bite and scratch him, and eat him whole.

“Are you sure you want this after all you’ve been through tonight?” he asked. “If you prefer, I’ll leave you to your peace.”

Peace? It was senseless to speak of peace while he worked such magic with his touch. One of his fingers traced about her wet, hot opening, a place that had never felt so swollen with sensation before.

“Please, sweet lady…” His voice was so strained it was difficult to hear. “You’re so bright, so lovely.”

“Yes, please,” she agreed, and his finger eased inside her, there, where she was wet and excited. She was so shocked that she gasped. His finger felt big and strange there, but exciting at the same time.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised.

She was glad, because this intimacy was unexpected. Did men and women do these things? They must, because it felt so good.

“Please,” she said again, even though she knew she shouldn’t. He said he would be careful, and oh, his finger inside her felt naughty and stretching, and he was kissing her again, making it even more exciting. He shifted, coming over her. His knees spread her thighs, and then his thick rod was at that wet place, and then…

He pushed it inside her with a slow, aching stretch. She hissed from the pain, although it wasn’t really pain as much as surprise that he would do such an unexpected thing.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed and nuzzled her, arching over her but holding her close. “I know I’m a lusty size, and you so small. I’ll take care. I’ll go slow.”

Oh, she thought. She wondered if going slow would help, because he’d begun this thing, and she was confused and a little injured, and he was pushing deeper still. This is too much. This is not what I meant when I said “please” to you.

But even as her mind rebelled, her body opened for him, accepting his part inside her, accepting that the adventure she’d wished for had taken this novel turn. As he moved in her, she grew wetter from the sensation and pressure of his thrusts. His hair fell down against her face, a soft, sweet distraction. His eyes held hers as he paused within her, seated as deep as her body would let him go. “All right, my sweet?” he asked. “Does it feel good for you?”

It felt…unsettling. She had let him go too far, without realizing. She was certain this was terribly wrong, perhaps the worst thing a proper lady could do with a man. She knew it, but she still wanted him to continue moving inside her.

“I’m a little bit afraid,” she admitted, even as she arched against him. “I’m afraid I shouldn’t have done this.”

“I’ll take care of you.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I promise I won’t spend inside you.”

She didn’t know what that meant, only that she wanted him to continue stroking her and kissing her, and yes, pressing his thick, stretching length inside her while she clung to his broad shoulders. She craved the heat of his body against hers. She needed the ache and pulsing in her breasts and quim to be satisfied. There was a fire, she thought. And now there’s this…

The two events might have been one and the same in her mind now. Both spawned worry, confusion, and unbearable heat. Rescue me again, she thought. Help me, please.

When he commenced again, the shock was a little less. What had felt enormous inside her now felt tight and hot, and exciting. This was a man, then, when his proper clothes were off: urgent, powerful, mysterious, a little magical, because he brought pleasure that overrode any discomfort or pain she might have felt at the circumstances. She lay back and relaxed her thighs, and as he surged in her, she experienced sensations she’d never felt before. Squeezing. Pulsing. Tingling. Was this desire? A tightness or pressure built in her middle, not the pressure of Mr. Drake inside her body, but a restless pressure that desperately needed release.

She didn’t mean to guide him with her moans and sighs, but somehow he read them anyway, and touched her just as she needed to be touched, just where she needed to be touched. He squeezed her breasts, which she liked, then tweaked her nipples, which made her tense all over, but in a nice way. When she ground her pelvis against his, he reached between them and circled his finger over that sensitive button again. Now that he was inside her, thrusting within her, it made her feel like she might explode.