UNDER BY DURESS by Kayla Stonor

got nowhere. She pulled off her hairband and shook out her hair. His eyes widened as it cascaded over her shoulders. When she slipped her panties off and stepped forward in one graceful movement, he moaned and blinked slowly.
    She walked towards him, fully naked, at ease with his eyes roaming over her breasts and the soft hair she had allowed to grow back below.
    “Damn you’re beautiful,” he said as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
    Her nipples tightened. Fresh desire crawled from her breasts to the deepest part of her being. She wanted this.
    She wanted him.
    He lay back, inviting her to straddle him. She did, but as her knees touched the soft dirt, he moved towards her. Her stomach lurched to feel his left arm curl behind her as his body lifted and flipped her onto her back. His arm cushioned her fall, his hand protecting the back of her head. He pulled it out from underneath her and gripped her hip. He rose above her, supporting himself on the hand chained to the piton.
    “Okay?” he checked.
    She nodded and his eyes glowed. Only the hand pressed against her side and the head of his throbbing member between her legs touched her. He slid his cock down her inner thigh and back again unleashing havoc on her senses. His lips swooped down to her neck. She stretched underneath him, thrusting her breasts upwards. Rossini growled and trailed kisses down her throat and chest, taking a line that encompassed the under swell of her breast. When his tongue captured her nipple, Tahima arched and cried out.
    “Don’t get too close,” he whispered. “Not until I let you.”
    She groaned, understanding his command wasn’t a play for control, but a request. He wanted to fine tune her pleasure to breaking point. On this, they were one.
    She pulled away from the hard length probing her clitoris. One touch and she would be on the slippery slope to a climax. He eased off and turned his mouth’s attention to her other breast. The neglected nipple throbbed with need. His teeth caught the hard bud, bit gently and twisted.
    Tahima nearly detonated. “Too much, too much . . .”
    He released her nipple. “Already?”
    “I’ve been ready for hours, Rossini.”
    He kissed her neck all the way to her earlobe. His free hand stroked her belly, moving down towards her aching, silky womanhood. His thumb parted her inner thighs. A powerful knee prodded and forced her legs apart, his leg resting between hers, letting her feel his weight. She gasped. Now his fingers eased into the squishy, wet opening. He teased her wider, avoiding contact with the sweet point of pleasure pursuing his fingers as she desperately ground against him.
    He lubricated his cock in her trickling juices and pressed against her, slowly feeling his way in. She shifted under him, trying to force the head of his cock to grate over the precise point desperately craving release. He evaded her, his engorged member sliding past to forge a greater pleasure deeper inside. He filled her to stretching point and she groaned in ecstasy. Then he stopped and held perfectly still.
    Tahima’s patience burst. Her legs coiled around his thighs and locked him in place. She reached around his buttocks, dug her nails in, and pushed him deeper. He grunted and allowed her to dictate the pace and rhythm of his strokes in and out, but not the depth.
    “Harder,” she cried.
    “Not yet,” he whispered against her throat.
    She moaned.
    His free hand forced its way under her buttocks, lifting her to meet his increasingly urgent strokes, supporting his weight with the hand chained to the piton. New sensations built within her and spiraled to another dimension. She began to whimper soft mewing noises. His mouth captured her right nipple and traced swirls around the bud with his tongue. Her nails tug deeper into his flesh, then let go so she could push his hips away from her before forcing him back in.
    She locked her lips onto his neck, nipping, kissing, teasing . . .
    He thrust against her,