The Switch by Christine Denham Page B

now, his index and middle fingers sliding in her juices
as he lightly circled her entrance. When he pressed in
ever-so-slightly, she gave a tiny moan and her forehead fell softly
against the top of the headboard.
    “Not yet,” Grayson said, trailing his
fingers out of that slick indentation to find her other entrance.
Ever so softly, he teased that puckered little hole with his finger
still covered in her honey.
    Marion made no noise, but neither did she
jerk away from his touch. His eyes slid up the leather-encased
length of her back. Her hair was slightly mussed, and her face
rested against the wrought-iron of the four-poster. The only sign
of any reaction from her was in her fingers, which were clenched so
tightly that her knuckles were almost white. Still, with a tiny
push he slid inside – she offered no resistance. In fact, judging
by the soft, shuddering sigh that rippled through her as he pressed
onward, she enjoyed it quite a bit.
    Cupping his palm over the cushion of her
ass, Grayson began deliberately massaging that tight passageway
while teasing his other fingers along her wetness. With his free
hand, he caressed and stroked the buttery leather sheathing her
torso, slipping down and around to massage her breasts through the
thick barrier. Leaning over her frame, he nuzzled his face into her
jet-black hair.
    “Surely you didn’t think I was that simple,
sweetheart?”
     
    Marion didn’t know what she thought. Her
senses were lost in a wild, jagged spin, both physical and
emotional. Every time she tried to grasp one idea, it slipped away
like mercury, and all that was left was the sensation of Gray – his
hands, his sudden control, and what he was doing to her. A finger
slipped into her cunt, joining the one in her ass in that slow,
tantalizing rhythm. Her eyes fell shut and a desperate noise
escaped her lips.
    Grayson made a soft tsk. “Oh, darling. You
did think I was that simple.”
    Yes, yes she probably did. Her bad. In her
defense, she hadn’t dared entertain the possibility of… of this. It
was too unlikely, and the hope would have fed her feelings for him
all too easily. But now they were here – tables turned and limbs
tied up – and she could practically feel her heart surrendering to
the arrogant jerk, right along with her body.
    Deeper he plunged, but never sped his
movements. It was that deliberate thrust and massage that
emphasized his dominance, more than any thrashing or sweetly
violent form of taking. With that one hand, he held her completely.
It was like nothing she’d ever experienced.
    His other hand slid over the leather of her
corset, stroking and petting as if she was some kind of animal he
sought to calm.
    “This has to go,” she heard him murmur as he
plucked the lacing at her back.
    She felt the main tie go loose. Before she
could instruct him not to simply unlace the whole thing, he slid
his fingers free of her sex with a soft, wet sound, causing her to
whimper before she could stop herself. He chuckled and gave that
aching place a gentle pat. Then he was behind her, his hands
smoothing up her thighs, over her hips, around to her pelvis and
the front of her corset. Her pussy clenched as she felt his
hardness bob against her inner thigh. Was it only minutes ago she’d
taken her fill of that gorgeous cock while he’d lain helpless
beneath her? Her teeth bit down sharply on her bottom lip to keep
from moaning again.
    One by one, the front clasps came loose. The
air was cool, causing goose bumps as it met her skin, so flushed
and damp and deliciously achy from being encased for so long. And
then she was free, the leather sliding from her torso and falling
to the floor as Grayson carelessly tossed it aside.
    Marion’s stomach tightened with sudden
nerves. She tried to tell herself it was ridiculous, that they’d
been more than naked with each other. But the loss of that last bit
of clothing – as laughable as it was to call it ‘clothing,’ left
her feeling almost