A Season for Christmas (Desire and Discipline #3)

Chapter 8

8

Samuel

“This is a very nice cock,” Catherine said, admiring the appendage she was holding in her hand.

Samuel gritted his teeth. He appreciated the compliment. At the same time, he wanted her to do a great deal more than hold and look at the damn thing. She swept her thumb across the underside of the mushroom head, making his senses tingle and at the same time, not giving him anywhere near what he wanted, what he craved.

He’d never had to wait like this before, and he hated it as much as he loved it. Being so out of control was a completely new experience, and he was struggling with the emotional aspect as much as being so physically restrained.

When she lowered her head to swipe her tongue over the crown, Samuel groaned, trying to thrust upward again. He shuddered, his inability to move in the ways he wanted working out of his body by other means. His cock throbbed against her palm, the hot, wet sensation of her tongue sending pleasure shooting through him. Catherine moved her hand up and down, pumping his cock, then tugged on his balls hard enough to make him gasp.

The pain and the pleasure were wrapping around each other within him, making it difficult to discern which he was truly feeling.

“Catherine…” He gritted her name out through his teeth.

She ignored him.

And he was utterly helpless to do anything about it.

“Bloody hell!” Her mouth engulfed the head of his cock, her tongue exploring, and he writhed against both the cravat around his wrists and her weight across his thighs. His hands itched to touch her, yet being denied the ability made his insides heat even more than if he could fill his palms with her breasts the way he wanted to.

He was entirely at her mercy.

And she showed none as she slowly slid her mouth down his shaft, taking her sweet time. There was nothing he could do to hurry her, nothing he could do to reciprocate her sensual torture. All he could do was lie there and take what she was doing to him.

His head tilted back against the pillow as he panted for breath, doing his best to stifle his whimpers as she teased him with her tongue and mouth, occasionally tugging or squeezing his balls painfully. Each hard tug made his cock jerk in her mouth. Each squeeze made him writhe.

The entire time, she moved slowly, as though she was savoring his cock rather than trying to work him toward release. It was maddeningly arousing.

“Catherine… please…” He was not sure how much more he could take. It seemed as though she was content to go on this way for hours. She tugged on his sack in response, and he j erked. “Please… bloody hell… I need… I cannot…” Fuck, he could not find the words.

And he was not sure if his begging was helping or harming his cause.

She hummed around his length as her lips descended again, and he cried out, his fingers flexing, then grabbing onto the spindles his wrists were secured to.

“Catherine!”

She lifted her mouth fully, to his consternation and relief, his cock protesting at the loss of slick heat. Her dark eyes were full of desire and power as she looked down at him, hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, holding it upward for her to impale herself on.

Finally.

“You are not to climax until I say you may,” she told him, teasing the head of his cock as she placed it against her entrance, but did not lower herself onto him yet. He was at the gate of the promised land and so eager to enter, but he was also aghast at her demand.

“What if I cannot help myself?”

A slow, sadistic smile curved her lips. It made his sack want to shrivel, but his cock was too engaged, too engorged, to pay heed to the warning. His mind raced, wondering what she could do—would do—if he was unable to comply.

He was fairly certain he did not want to find out.

More than that, he wanted to please her. He wanted to give her what she wanted. What she needed.

Rather than answering him, she released her grip on his cock as she began to sink down atop him. Samuel groaned, thrusting upward—something he could do more easily now that she was straddling his hips and not his thighs—to meet her. It was pure ecstasy… More than that, it felt right.

She felt right .

He had been with many women since she’d rejected him and married Lord Cross, but none of them had felt quite like this, even disregarding the way she’d bound him to the bed. None of them had engaged his heart as much as they had his body.

Emotion flared in her eyes, her gaze connecting with his, and he could not help but wonder if she was feeling the same thing. The rightness. The feeling that this was how it was always supposed to be.

She settled against him, rocking herself on his groin, his cock fully embedded inside her. Heat spread through him, the slick walls of her body contracting around him, and he groaned as he shuddered through the wave of pleasure. After being tormented by her mouth, keeping control of himself was incredibly difficult. The urge to thrust, to move her atop him was running rampant through his body… yet there was only so much he could do.

Catherine sighed happily as she began to rise… then fall… hands on his chest, her breasts swayed beneath her as she moved, riding him. Using him for her pleasure. Because it was certainly not for his.

Though he felt a great deal of pleasure, her slow ride, grinding down atop him every time she seated herself, was just another round of erotic torment for him. He needed more. Harder. Faster.

But all he could do was grit his teeth and let her use him as she willed, doing his best to hold back the need growing inside him.

Catherine

She’d thought that binding his hands would help with the aching intimacy of their connection, but it did not. Samuel might not be able to touch her, but his gaze caressed her every curve, his body intimately joined with hers in a manner that felt more than physical.

Perhaps because it had been so long since she’d had a lover. That must be why it felt so exquisitely and unexpectedly poignant.

His gaze caught hers as she lowered herself onto him, his lips parting as she rocked atop him, rubbing her clit on the hardness of his groin. Pleasure sparked through her, hot need searing her senses, yet she lingered… teased… because she was not ready for this moment to be over yet.

She was not sure what would be on the other side of it.

“Catherine…” Samuel’s voice was hoarse, husky, as he said her name again.

God, she loved to hear him say her name like that.

“More, please.”

She loved hearing him beg, too. Loved knowing she had done that to him. Because Samuel was not a man who begged. Even when he’d wanted her to run away with him, when he’d been trying to convince her to defy her parents and go to Gretna Green, he had not begged.

Asked. Cajoled. Argued.

But not begged.

Not until now.

Her own need was swelling, and she could not deny him, not when he pleaded so beautifully. So needily.

Rising up, she sank down again, moving faster now, riding him harder as her ecstasy mounted. Her own moans joined his, filling the air as they began to race toward the finish, her body tingling all over as her climax neared.

“Please… Catherine… I cannot…” He thrust upward into her, and she knew he was close to his own climax .

“A little longer, Samuel… a little more…” she murmured, shuddering as her body clamped down around him. Her clit pressed against his groin, and she leaned forward, her nipples brushing against the wiry hair on his chest, the sensation tingling through her adding to the ecstasy. She rocked, igniting all her senses and pushing her up to the very edge of the precipice.

“Come for me, Samuel. Come for me now.”

He cried out, a wild, hedonistic cry, as he finally let loose his pent-up desires. Catherine felt him surge beneath her, thrusting up hard, filling her so deeply, and it was her turn to cry out. She rubbed herself against him, feeling him swell and pulse inside her as he reached his release, calling her name over and over as he poured himself into her.

Hot bliss wrapped around her, spread through her, wreaking havoc on her senses until she finally slumped over Samuel, collapsing on top of him, utterly spent.

They breathed together, his rapid heartbeat pattering in her ear. Closing her eyes, Catherine breathed in the scent of him, unwilling to move, because that would mean disengaging. She could feel him shrinking inside her, but she did not want their connection to end a moment before it had to.

“My lady,” he murmured, and she felt the words vibrate through his chest against her cheek. “I would like to hold you.”

She felt the movement as he tugged gently on the bonds around his wrist.

Ah.

Yes, well. She supposed she should take care of that.

Lifting her head, her breasts squashed against his chest, she did her best to reach up and untie his wrists without moving her lower body. Unfortunately, there was only so much movement that could happen, and she sighed internally as she felt his cock fall away. Scooting upward, she found the end she needed and tugged on it. The knot quickly unraveled.

Sighing happily, Samuel wrapped his arms around her before she could even scoot back down to her former position, leaving them face-to-face. Accepting the new position, Catherine propped her elbows on either side of his head, her fingers stroking the sides of his face as she stared down at him. His gaze was contemplative as he looked back up at her, his arms secure around her.

Being held by him like this was almost as good as having him inside her. It was a different kind of connection, but the connection remained.

“Hello,” she said, smiling down at him, hoping that her expression hid some of her inner uncertainty. The fact he wanted to hold her seemed like a good sign. Or perhaps he was about to tell her that he did not want to do anything like that again, but he did not want her to run when he did so.

But she thought he’d liked it.

“Hello.” He smiled at her, and she relaxed internally. There was a softness in his gaze, a warmth, which soothed some of the battered edges of her emotions.

“Was that everything you’d hoped it would be?”

The chuckle that rumbled through his chest lifted her body atop his.

“That was far more than I expected.” He raised his eyebrow at her. “How did I do?”

There was an arrogance to the question, an assumption that she would answer positively. Which, perversely, made her want to needle him. But the truth was, he was the best lover she’d ever had. More, he’d responded in ways that she had never thought to expect from him. He’d been everything she wanted, everything she could have dreamed, and more.

There were still unexplored avenues he might balk at, but as a first encounter, she could not ask for more.

“More than acceptable,” she responded after a long moment of pretending to think about it, then laughed when he growled, his fingers digging into her sides to tickle her, the way he’d done when they were younger, pushing her to admit the truth. “You were delightful, and you know it.”

“I still like to hear you say it.”

That made her laugh as he pouted playfully up at her.

Sliding her fingers into his hair, she gripped it hard, tilting his head back slightly. His eyes widened, banked heat flaring.

“You were a very good boy.”

Oh, yes. She could practically see the little click in his eyes. He liked that a lot.