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Their Virgin Mistress (Masters of Ménage #7)(41)

By:Shayla Black




       
         
       
        

She pushed the thought aside. Tonight wasn't about regrets. "Please, Oliver."

He dragged his tongue through her pussy, making her whole body ping with a fresh swell of need. She writhed under him.

"Don't move or I'll stop. Be very still and let me enjoy you." Another long stroke of his tongue had her grabbing the comforter with both hands, fisting the soft material.

She lay vulnerable and naked to him. To remain still, as he'd demanded, took so much of her control that she had to give elsewhere. Tori felt her grip on her emotions slipping. She shouldn't even consider talking to Oliver about a relationship, but as he tortured her with the sweet sensation of his tongue, she wondered …  Was she giving up on them too soon?

Maybe she should fight for what she wanted. Her sister certainly had.

"You taste so sweet." He growled the words against her pussy, every syllable rumbling and flowing over her. "But this is the sweetest part of you."

With one finger, he gently pulled back the hood of her clitoris and she watched his blond head descend to her. He kissed the pearl softly, then sucked it into his mouth.

Tori's whole system overloaded with pleasure. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but moan and ride out the pleasure as it gathered and swelled, then crested into a wave that had her twisting, crying out, and dying the most beautiful little death inside.

Oliver laved her all the way through the exquisite sensations, his tongue a torture all its own. Finally, as the sensation dissipated, she sagged against the bed. Before she could make sense of the feelings coursing through her, he moved her onto the middle of the bed, sliding her back across the sheets, and covered her body with his own. He pressed her legs apart with strong thighs and made a place for himself there.

"You're going to feel so good." Oliver groaned, and she felt the broad head of his cock prod against her. He hovered over her, propping his torso up with his elbows, pressing their lower bodies together. She stroked a palm across his stunningly muscled chest. All she could think about was how perfect it felt to be close to him, in his arms with nothing between them.

She already felt good. Her body was humming from orgasm, the world seeming hazy and pleasant. She would enjoy sleeping in his arms someday. But the thought fled once she felt him move between her legs. He wasn't through with her yet. In fact, he was hard again, and she remembered what he'd promised. He wouldn't leave her sex unfilled like Callum had. The erection he nudged against her said he intended to have her.

"Oliver, I need to tell you something." She hadn't meant to mention it, but now that they were so close, she needed him to know that he would be her first. Maybe it wouldn't thrill him, but she wanted him to hear that he was special to her. 

Before she could confess, he thrust hard inside her, shoving his way through her tight tissue. She felt something tear-along with stabbing pain. She couldn't help the strangled scream that came from her throat.

How was it possible that he'd had to break her hymen? She'd been really active in sports in school. Shouldn't her hymen have imploded before now? Hell, he was so big, and he'd pushed in with such force. He'd filled her so completely that she couldn't take another breath.

All the earlier pleasure dissipated, and she clutched Oliver, praying for relief, balance … something to make the agony go away. She dug her nails into his shoulders and tried to hold back tears.

"What the hell?" Oliver froze over her, his face twisting in dawning horror. "Tell me that wasn't what I think it was."

The hard tone of his voice forced the last of her pleasant fog away. She shifted, struggling to get used to the feel of him taking up all the space inside her. She tried not to let his words hurt.

"Don't," Oliver ordered in an almost desperate voice. "Don't fucking move. I can't … ."

Tori couldn't help it. He was too big. She felt him way too deep yet still had to somehow accommodate his breath-stealing girth. She gritted her teeth. Tears blurred her vision as she writhed against him.

His whole face tightened. He groaned, his hips flexing as he thrust in again and again, as though he couldn't help himself. Slowly, the pain lifted. Heat began to wash over her. Tingles sprang to life between her legs, making her gasp. It was happening. Oliver was inside her. She couldn't wait to feel the sense of connection, like they were two people becoming one.

He buried his face in her neck and picked up the pace, faster, faster. A minute later, he grunted long and low, then pressed deep inside her, his body shuddering. Something warm coated her insides.