DeliveredIntoHisHands (13 page)

“I think we should do something about it,
don’t you?”

“Mayhap.”

He squeezed her between the legs one last
time then lifted his restraining arm from her back. “No mayhap about it,
woman.”

* * * * *

Stretching languidly, Antonia turned to her
side to await her husband’s return. She’d been punished with his rod—vigorously
and often—in the last two hours. It wasn’t until he was about to punish her a
third time that he remembered the women standing in the hall.

“Shit!” he hissed and jumped from the bed.
“I forgot about those goddess-be-damned guards!” He started out of the
bedchamber as naked as the day he’d been born.

“Your pants?” she offered, propping herself
up on an elbow.

He skidded to a stop, looked down then
groaned. Snatching up his pants, he struggled to put his foot into the leg.

She watched him stumbling around as he
tried to put on his pants standing up and smiled. He looked so young, so
endearing but the words coming out of his mouth turned the air around him blue.

“Hurry back,” she said as he finally got
the pants on and was fumbling with the buttons. “I want you to teach me how to
suck your cock.”

He snapped his head around to give her a
shocked look and ran right into the wall, bouncing back like a ball. He
hesitated, took a step back toward the bed.

“The guards?” she questioned, an eyebrow
raised.

“Fuck!” he snarled and spun around.

“I intend to!” she called out and heard him
run into something. He yelped and then there was a hopping sound.

When he came back, he was limping but there
were was such heat, such intense need in his blue eyes they were like
spotlights training on her. He came to stand by the bed, looking down at her
hungrily.

She patted the bed. “Sit down, knave.”

“Sit?” he questioned in a tone that
suggested he had no idea what the word meant.

“Aye,” she replied. “Sit.”

His brows drew together but he turned and
sat down on the mattress. “It’s going to be hard to teach you with my pants
on,” he told her.

“Patience, knave,” she said. She sat up,
got to her knees then put her hands on his shoulders. The muscles there were as
hard as stone. “You need to relax first.”

“Wench…”

“You need to relax first,” she repeated as
she began to knead the tenseness from his shoulders. Fingers digging firmly
into his flesh, she heard him moan. His head fell back and she leaned in to
kiss the side of his face, the whiskers tickling her lips.

“I should punish you more often, wench,” he
mumbled.

She smiled then pressed her mouth to his
ear. “Then I’ll be bad more often so you can,” she whispered.

He shuddered as her warm breath invaded his
ear and she felt the edge of the mattress dip where he was gripping it tightly
with both hands.

“Relax,” she whispered, drawing the word
out until it was a slow, sensuous hiss in his ear.

“I can’t, wench. My cock is so hard I could
dent titanium with it.”

She sighed then scrambled from the bed to
stand in front of him. When he started to reach for her, she shook her head.
“Keep your hands to yourself and let me pleasure you.”

Once more he shivered and she saw his right
leg begin to bounce, his bare toes levering it from the carpet.

Standing naked before him was making his
cock flex against the front of his pants but it was also giving him something
to stare at. His eyes were locked on her crotch. As she sank gracefully to the
floor at his feet, those eyes leapt to her face. She put her palms on his
thighs to push his legs farther apart and another moan came from deep within
his throat. She moved closer then shifted her hands to the buttons of his fly,
the top one of which was already undone.

“Have I ever told you about the thoughts
that were going through my mind that night I saw you lying in the Moonlight?”
she asked as she slipped the next button free.

He swallowed hard. “No but I can imagine.”

She looked up at him, cocking a brow.

“I must have been hideous,” he said.

“It was your eyes that drew my attention. I
thought them the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I saw your flesh healing and the
next thought that went through my mind was when the healing was done, you would
be an exceedingly handsome warrior.”

He grunted in reply.

“I knew, you see,” she continued as she
freed the next button.

“Knew what?”

“That you were my Chosen.”

“How?”

“I could barely keep from touching you
though I knew to do so would have hurt you. Refraining from putting my hands to
you…” The next button was released and she slowly peeled the two sides of the
fly apart. “Was the hardest thing I’d ever done. It was like denying food to a
starving woman.”

His cock sprang free of the pants and he
tensed, his knuckles white on the edge of the mattress.

“The first time I saw this…” She slowly
looked down at his shaft. “It scared me.”

He licked his lips and shifted his ass on
the bed. “Why?” he asked.

“It was so big. So long. So thick.” She
gazed up at him. “I didn’t believe it would fit inside me.”

He swallowed again. “It did,” he said in a
husky voice.

“But the question is, will it fit in my
mouth?” she asked.

This time a hard shudder rippled through
him. His right thigh was rubbing against her side as it bounced and she pressed
down on it with her hand.

“Be still, knave,” she ordered. She knew it
took some doing but he managed to stop the nervous motion.

“Ah, goddess, wench,” he groaned.

“I asked Cherise—”

“Gods-be-damn it, woman. Will you stop
talking to that slut?” he asked, gritting his teeth.

“I think you might like to hear what advice
she gave me about sucking cock.”

“Goddess, Antonia!” he said, his face
suddenly flaming.

“Well, you have been procrastinating about
teaching me so I had to ask an expert about the finer points of fellatio.”

The scientific word for it seemed to do
something very erotic to him for his entire body clenched. She could feel the
rigidity in his thighs, see it in his arms and shoulders.

“Knave,” she said sternly. “Relax.”

“I can’t,” he told her.

“You can and you will or I’ll stop right
now.” She lightly squeezed his thighs just above the knee.

“No,” he protested.

“All right, then unclench your body.” She
looked at his arms, which were stiff. As soon as the muscles in his forearms
loosened, she smiled. “Now lift your sweet, tight ass so I can pull off your
pants.”

Almost as though the words were electric
prods, he jacked his hips from the bed and held his ass above the mattress,
bracing himself on his arms as she put her hands to the waistband of his pants
and began to tug them over his hips. The entire time she was working them down his
legs, she could feel his stare locked on her lowered head.

“You have beautiful feet,” she said as she
pulled the pants over them. Her attention shifted up to him. “But then I think
all of you is beautiful.”

“Men are not beautiful, wench,” he stated.
“Unless they are girly men.”

She slowly smiled. “There is nothing girly
about my man and in my eyes he is beautiful. You can put that sweet ass back on
the bed now.”

He dropped down to the mattress like a
rock.

“Now that I have you as I need you,” she
said. “Let’s get down to the business at hand but first…”

He scowled. “First?”

“There are conditions.”

The scowl deepened. “What conditions,
wench?” The words were husky and filled with a tight warning.

“You must keep your hands on the bed and
you must not close your legs.”

“Ah, wench!” Her words made his cock
stiffen even more.

“No matter what I do to you, keep your
thighs spread.”

She watched his eyes close and noticed a
vein throbbing rapidly in his neck.

“Understood?” she queried.

“Aye,” he said, the word strangled.

“All right.” When he tensed again, she
slapped her palm hard on his thigh and his eyes snapped open wide. He looked
down at her. “Fucking relax, knave!” she ordered.

Garrick’s eyebrows shot up into the cowlick
that tumbled over his forehead. She’d never used vulgar language in his
presence and that she had seemed to both shock and amuse him.

“Aye, wench,” he said and the rigidity left
him once again. She glanced at his thigh to see the red mark her palm had left
behind.

“Poor baby,” she said. “That must have
stung.” She leaned in and put her lips to the angry red blotch.

A strange sound came from her husband but
she continued to kiss the spot where she had hit him. Satisfied she’d soothed
the sting, she moved on to the inner surface of his left thigh just to the side
of his knee.

“Mother of the goddess,” she heard him
whispered and his leg quivered.

Fleeting little kisses. Tight little
nibbles. A long, slow flick of her tongue and he was breathing heavy. She
wondered how he’d react when she got to the V-cut where thigh met groin.
Leisurely working her way up to within a few inches from that desired area, she
switched her attention to his other leg—beginning there at his knee.

That leg jumped the moment her lips touched
it and he groaned with frustration. She watched his fingers tighten on the
mattress edge, pulling on the sheet.

Briefer, lingering kisses. Nibbling.
Flicking then one infinitely slow lick all the way to the V-cut. She heard him
suck in his breath and hold it in anticipation. She looked up at him from under
her lashes and smiled.

“Wench,” he stated in a voice that was
filled with pleading.

She dragged her tongue upward along the
crease—her cheek grazing his cock—and grinned as his entire body spasmed, his
head falling back and that oh-so knowledgeable tongue became caught between his
teeth.

He was making little growling sounds as she
turned her attention to the other crease and—bad boy that he was—he opened his
thighs as far as she thought they could go. He was offering up that part of him
that longed for attention, sacrificing any shred of modesty to her questing
lips.

She slid her hand under his balls and
cupped him lightly.

His eyes flew open. His head came down.

“Now, this is where you need to instruct
me, knave,” she said. “You need to tell me how you want me to proceed.”

Those beautiful blue eyes widened for just
a moment then grew heavy-lidded and filled with power. He licked his lips,
cleared his throat, and then nodded.

“Wrap your fingers around him at the base,”
he said.

“Like this?” she asked and slowly flexed
her fingers—pinky to index then thumb upon his cock.

“Aye,” he whispered then cleared his throat
again. “Aye, like that.”

“Now what?”

“Gently squeeze. That brings blood to the
head.”

She frowned. “I won’t hurt you doing that?”

“No, no, no,” he said, almost violently
shaking his head. “The blood engorges the head and gives me more pleasure when
your mouth…” He gulped. “Takes me.”

“Oh,” she said. “Like this?”

She lowered her head and wrapped her lips
around the broad tip of his cock. She thought he would jump out of his skin the
moment her tongue pressed lightly into the slit. She swiveled it slowly.

“Wench, I think Cherise gave you
instructions already,” he chastised her.

“Umm,” she said and knew the vibration
drove him mad with need. His cock jerked in her mouth and a salty drop of
pre-cum oozed onto her tongue.

She pulled back and ran her tongue over her
lips, curling it over the bottom as she held his stare. “That tastes good,” she
said and watched his eyes flare. A second later a big, goofy grin spread over
his mouth.

“Yeah?” he asked as though he’d done
something totally spectacular.

“Aye,” she pronounced then slipped him into
her mouth again. This time she slid her lips—tightly and firmly—down his entire
length.

“Sweet Bastet!” he hissed, shivering.

Now, she thought, was the time to stop
fooling around and cut to the chase. Lips firm, tongue working, she began to
lick the underside of his cock from balls to tip—slowly and firmly as though
she were enjoying a lollipop. Her hand secure around his balls, she alternately
squeezed them and sucked hard on the broad mushroom head as she made her way to
his tip.

Slow glide down. Cup firmly. Knead. Even
slower lick up again before drawing hungrily on the head. Pressing the tongue
deeply into the slit. Flicking around the silky head then another slow glide
down.

Then came the slow, deep bobs of her head
that had him trembling.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned.

His hips were beginning to flex upward with
every pass she made downward. She increased the suction, the pressure on his
balls and finally the speed until he was panting.

“Wench,” he said and she could hear the
warning in his voice. “You’d best stop now.”

She had no intention of stopping. She knew
he didn’t want to come in her mouth simply because he didn’t want to shock her
but she wanted him to. She wanted to experience the feel of it. The taste of
it. The power of it when he released.

“Tonia, no,” he said. “I’m close. You
should…”

With his cock embedded deep in her throat,
she caught—and held—his worried look.

She knew he was striving to control the
orgasm she knew was imminent.

His hands left the bed and went to her
cheeks. It seemed he made one final, desperate attempt to warn her.

She winked at him.

It was that wink that did him in. All control
gone, he tensed and then came, his seed spurting down her throat. She worked
her throat and that sensation brought a bellow of release from deep within his
chest. His fingers tightened on her cheeks—trying to still her head as she slid
her mouth up and down his pulsing cock—but his strength had apparently deserted
him. He wound up moving her over him as she greedily milked him of every last
drop. With one last jerk, he shuddered then his shoulders slumped though he
still had a light grip on her cheeks.