Read My Lady Captive Online

Authors: Shirl Anders

Tags: #Regency Book 3

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BOOK: My Lady Captive
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“God, you feel so good,” he gasped
involuntarily as he slid another finger, not working over her
beading clitoris, into the slippery hot entrance of her vagina.
“Jesus,”
he hissed, prodding higher.

“Wyndham!” Orèlan careened, and he could feel
her tight sheath dragging at his finger, as he pressed higher . . .
higher. “
Oh
, dios-dios, amour!” she cried. Wyndham suddenly
stilled his movements with an overwhelming surprise. A barrier? A
maidenhead? “
Oh
dios, Wyndham! Do not stop, amour!” she
cried, writhing over his hand and fingers, which had stilled.

Wyndham shook himself from his shock and
wretched away from Orèlan, who crumpled to the floor with her back
pressed to the wall. “How could you be a widow? . . .
How?

he demanded angrily.

But Orèlan only moaned, cupping her sex and
looking up at him with anguished passion in her golden eyes.
Damnation, she'd been nearly at the brink, he thought raggedly, as
he dropped down clumsily, because of his bad knee beside her.

“Wyndham, what do you do to me?” she
whimpered with an anguished and confused voice.

“I make love to you,” he growled, roughly
stripping the jacket down to her elbows at the same time turning
her body to press her down onto the floor. He spread kisses over
her heaving breasts, and then he moved down her delicate rib cage,
to linger over her belly button.

“Wyndham,” Orèlan moaned, rising against him
with her hands clutching in his hair.

He moved lower drawing his tongue along her
pelvic bone, tasting salt and light perspiration, feeling the
warmth and creaminess. “Open your legs for me,” he commanded. It
was awkward with his bad knee, but he managed with his leg braced
straight behind him as Orèlan’s thighs spread open to his command.
Then he licked the musk and heat of her tender rosy flesh that was
moist peach nectar on his tongue.


Oh dios,
Wyndham!” Orèlan cried, as
her legs splayed passionately wider and he lifted her quaking
thighs up over his broad shoulders, while she clutched his hair.
“More, my puma!” she pleaded, breathless. She was all heat and all
woman, she was abandon, wild, and invincible with incredibly
passionate responses as he rapidly tongued her dripping peach. His
lips closed tight around the moist and swollen ruby of her
protruding clit, making she screamed ardently. Then he rolled the
hot throbbing bud around by the tightened edge of his lips.


Ah-ah
. Dios! W-Wyndham!”

He held her gyrating hips down against the
floor with his strength, so he could keep his mouth seated over the
scorching inner recesses of her yielding pussy, while her legs
arched over his back in complete surrender. It was then that he
suckled her clit, up over the flatness of his tongue.

“Wyndham!Wyndham!Wyndham! Madre dios!”

Orèlan’s thighs quaked over his shoulders,
while her buttocks flexed tensely in his large hands and he felt
her clitoris throb against his tongue. She squealed and rippled
beneath him like passionate-hot-addicting-love. Her climax was
possessive as his mind peeled a litany of ownership.

She was his . . . his . . .
his.

Chapter Five

Christ,
he was turgid. He was so
stiffly engorged it was painful, and he shook his head of
yellow-gold hair, trying to regain control of his impassioned
senses. Orèlan had experienced the little faint, but she was waking
now and stretching sinuously beneath his muscular frame.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, growling through
his clenched teeth.

“Wyndham, what is it?” she exclaimed softly,
while damn her, she rocked her hips, bringing her soft hands up to
his tense jaw, expressively concerned, while succeeding only in
plying her young and firmly pillowed bare breasts against his naked
chest.
Christ,
she was quick silver, changing her moods in
an instant and her bare flesh moving against his body, raped his
senses. Her tumid nipples ravaged sensations across the expanded
muscles of his chest, while her small soft hands tried to sooth his
tense jaw.

“A man cannot do what I just did without
consequences, Spitfire,” he answered through his clenched teeth. If
only he could force his injured leg to unlock, he would rise off
her magnetizing nakedness.

“Oh, si,” Orèlan breathed softly, with
awareness building in her sun-gold eyes. “You are so hard. Yes?
Just as when you spanked my bottom.”

“I was
not
aroused then, woman,” he
denied harshly, in a strained and rumbling voice. “And if I could
manage to move my leg, I
would
be off you.”

“Oh, my Wyndham, is your leg this bad?” she
asked, squirming beneath him, while groping her hand downward,
until . . . !

Wyndham hissed a tight intaking of breath as
all his muscles locked, including the throbbing and rigid dick
between his thighs, vicariously dribbling small increments of his
seed. “That is
not
my leg, Orèlan,” he finished
hoarsely.

“Oh, my Wyndham, of course I knew this,”
Orèlan hummed softly with treacherous innocence. “I may be the
virgin, my puma, but I know of a man’s . . .” Then, she whispered
hotly into his ear, “
Pene
,” while she fondled him through
the fabric of his pants as though testing his size and length.

“You are playing with fire, Senorita,” he
hissed through his gritted teeth even as he rocked his hips,
spawning Orèlan to clasp the outline of his cock tighter. “Stroke
it,” he finished in a growling of denial and need combined.

He was insane and he knew it. Orèlan was a
virgin, yet hardly innocent, as she played the tormenting and
sultry siren beneath him. Then his throbbing prick was loose from
his pants and gripped into her soft urgent hand.


Hold
it tighter, Spitfire,” he
whispered tightly, finding her bobbing breast with his mouth.
“Stroke it faster,” he finished on a rasp as his lips closed around
her turgid nipple.

“Oh si, Wyndham,” Orèlan puffed breathlessly
as she felt Wyndham’s incredible masculine power sliding in the
tight grip of her hand. His thick organ was an unbendable rod of
male flesh. Sleek and hot skin surrounded the thickening mass
sliding over her palm as she stroked from the smooth satin head
down to the base, where the bottom siding of her hand grazed
against his warm male sacs.

“Cup my balls, Spitfire,” Wyndham uttered
huskily, around the spiked protuberance of her nipple that he
nipped so thrillingly with his teeth. Each love bite to the tender
erection hit a nerve inside her that made her hips grind upward as
her hand stroked his pene more tightly. She was feverish again,
only this time her inner core ached deeply with each solid and
lengthily stroking of her hand over Wyndham’s thrusting male organ.
A ram of masculine muscle, flesh, and bone. She caressed his
swollen male sacs and milked his pene harder as her thighs
separated beneath her dark earthy yearnings.


Dios
, Wyndham,” she cried
passionately beneath the onslaught.

“Orèlan,” he hissed with a clipped groan as
he held himself ridged on his forearms above her undulating body.
His head was hung down and his face was buried between her jiggling
breasts. She brought the head of his pene right into the lips of
her sex as she stroked the length of the thick column faster. She
did not know what she was doing, yet the tip of the head felt so
hot and exciting, playing over the place Wyndham had lick the
throbbing rapture from her with his naughty tongue.


Oh hh
dios, yes!” She rubbed the
fiery head deeper into the lips of her sex as instinct lifted her
knees upward.


Yes,”
Wyndham hissed, roughly
plucking her nipple with the edges of his nipping teeth. The action
sent a shock of raw pleasure into her sex as her head arched
sharply backward and then . . . Then she screamed!


Damnation,”
Wyndham swore gutturally.
His raging prick was buried to the hilt inside Orèlan’s crimped and
convulsing vagina. “Christ!” he uttered again explosively, trying
beyond human measures to remain rooted in place and impossibly
still, because Orèlan was weeping and clutching him frantically.
His muscles bulged and quivered as he willed his nearly
passion-blank mind back from the brink. Willing it to give up
control with each hard shaking breath that he took.

“It hurts.
Hurts
,” Orèlan cried,
writhing her hips beneath him.

“Hold still, baby. Please, hold still,”
Wyndham whispered, urgently cupping Orèlan’s face with one hand,
while he held his hips solid against her movements. He heaved
another hard and aching breath. “Baby, please look at me.
Look
at me, Orèlan,” he urged raggedly. Orèlan’s beautiful
face was ravaged with tears and confusion as her golden gaze
tripped fearfully over his, while her fingernails dug painful
gouges into the muscles of his back “I will not move,” he vowed
stoutly.

“Oh-h,” she gasped a panting breath that
turned into a hiccup-sob.

“Baby,” he whispered rubbing his forehead
against her feverish temple. “Try to breathe, sweetheart, just a
few slow breaths.” She managed, and her fingernails retreated from
their painful digging. “It will be all right,” he murmured against
her cheek. “I promise you.”

“Si, Wyndham,” she breathed, finally hugging
her arms partway around his back. Her knees, which were bent upward
on either side of his hips, lost their tragic tenseness and folded
inward to rest on his hips.

He plucked her lips once, tenderly and
softly, with his. “Does it still hurt so badly?” He did not allow
her to answer as he dipped his head again, plucking her lips and
sliding the flat tip of his tongue lazily over her bottom lip.

“Oh mmm,” she purred as she followed his lips
with her pouted mouth.

“Can you feel me pulsating inside you?” he
asked in a murmur around her lips.

“Oh si,” she sighed and her inner muscles
crimped, and then released around his cock.


A-
God,” he groaned. “You, little
vixen.” He hung his head and he felt sweat drip down his jaw. “I
cannot move, Orèlan, . . . my leg. I am going to perish.”

Orèlan laughed, and he groaned at the
sensation along his cock. Christ, her inner muscles were strong,
they were stubborn like she was. “But, my golden puma, I do not
hurt for a little while now. But this, I have not said, because I
love to kiss you."

“Will you get on top of me, Orèlan?” he asked
in a whisper against her ear.

“On top?” she questioned, darting the tip of
her tongue forward to catch a drop of sweat on his square chin.

“It is the only way we can finish this before
I expire, Spitfire,” he growled. Then, he rolled their bodies,
ignoring the sharp pain in his leg. Orèlan squealed at the surprise
move, and then she was straddling him as he lay on his back. He
grasped the feminine flesh of her hips as she braced her hands upon
his chest. She appeared bewildered, yet then slowly calculating in
a purely feminine way. He could see her mind working in her gaze as
she tested the feel of this new position, and then she realized
what power in their joining she might have astride. She was vibrant
and alive and beautiful beyond compare. Yet, he would not allow her
everything.

He was the man.
Her man.
But
ultimately the conqueror. He rose to a sitting position holding
Orèlan’s satiny bare back. His bad leg was straight and his good
one was bent with her settled in the cradle of his hips.


Yum,
Wyndham,” she purred at the
movement, which caused his dick to jab deeply inside her heat and
fire, making him grit his teeth. “This feels very good, my golden
puma.”

She rubbed the hard and jutting spokes of her
aroused nipples across his chest as he grasped the back of her head
and pulled downward to kiss her. At that moment with one arm braced
behind him, he humped his hips upward, lifting her to fall as he
pumped again.
“Oo
, Wyndham,” she gasped. It was not a cry of
pain this time. She was with him all the way, gazing at him
intently, as he lifted and dropped their bodies, teaching her the
rhythms.


Oo
, my Wyndham!” she cried
passionately, tossing her head backward, arching her neck as he
impaled her again. The heaviness of her supple breasts undulated
with each strong thrust he took, bouncing her turgid pink nipples,
as he ogled them with spellbinding lust. She arched her spine
further, until his hands around her curving waist were the only
things anchoring her. A nimble pagan offering, arched beneath his
gaze, as her long sable hair pooled around his calves and he fucked
her hard again. She screamed ardently, riding his pumping cock like
a wild thing as she braced her hands on his ankles and humped her
hips aggressively into his pounding rhythm.


Christ,”
he groaned through his
teeth, trying to hold onto his unbridled woman, since she was now
fucking him like a wanton courtesan. Sweat plaster his scalp,
dripping into his eyes, as he lowered his gaze to see the root of
his cock disappearing in and out of Orèlan’s writhing pussy.


Ooo
, Wyndham!” she screamed in
torment and ecstasy combined. It was the call of an impassioned
lover so close to their release, but unable to capture it.

“Come to me,” he commanded harshly,
forcefully lifting her from her spine-bending arching toward
him.

“Wyndham,
Wyndham,
” she mewled,
clutching his shoulders as he lowered his back further down the
wall behind him, until she was laying on his chest. The position
rested her clitoris with splayed labia lips over the very root hold
of his cock.

“Now fuck me, little Spitfire. Fuck me hard,”
he ordered in a ragged base voice.

BOOK: My Lady Captive
10.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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