Weak for Him by Lyra Parish Page B

and
learned my body. He watched me search and pleasure myself sexually.
His eyes were on me, and I took my time touching, moaning, and
allowing my toes to curl when I got close. But I didn't come as he
instructed although I wanted to so bad. Each time I hit my peak, I
panted and pinched my nipples, hoping my body would calm
down.
    I had never been so turned
on.
    I tilted my head to get a good
look at him. He took off his shirt, and I couldn't stop staring at
his lean stomach muscles that looked as if they were chiseled from
rock. Mr. Felton walked to the bed and forced opened my legs.
Pushing his erection onto me, he slammed my wrists above my head.
The roughness, a pure sexually driven act of dominance that mingled
with lust, was bad news. The desire to let loose and be completely
physical overcame me as he trailed his fingers along my collarbone.
Then he was touching me in all the right places, allowing my orgasm
to build, my pulse to race, and my breath to quicken.
    "Please, sir. Give it to me." My
body begged for satisfaction. I begged for
satisfaction.
    Mr. Felton was on top of me, his
body above mine, and he was staring into my eyes.
    "Is this how you imagined it?
Being taken?" He didn't move, but the pressure on me, encouraged me
to wrap my legs around him.
    "Exactly," I choked out,
breathless.
    "You're so wet, so turned on, so
ready to be fucked," he whispered, soft and sensually, in my ear.
His lips were close to my neck, trailing up and down, taking little
nibbles along the way. The smell of fresh soap and man
lingered.
    "I want it so bad," I whispered in
his ear. "I can barely stand it."
    "Good," he said, deep and
raspy.
    He lay next to me on the bed and
propped himself up with one elbow and trailed his fingers over my
body lightly before pulling something out of the drawer next to the
bed. He returned with a black silky material in his hands. With
great care, he wrapped it over my eyes and the room went
dark.
    With soft fingertips, he trailed
up the side of my body and stomach. The feel of his touch
intensified because I couldn't see him. I almost lost myself in it.
With one finger, he crossed my mouth and traced my bottom lip with
his, and then continued down my jawline. My body instantly
responded. The next thing I knew, one nipple was in his mouth, and
his tongue circled the tip and flicked it around. I almost couldn't
handle myself. Handfuls of sheets and blanket were in my grasp. He
pulled away, groaned, and kissed down my stomach with his soft,
luscious lips. Behind this tiger of a man was someone gentle,
sensitive, and sexually driven.
    Like clockwork, I parted my legs
as his hand searched below my stomach. He readjusted himself and
then moved his body back into position between me. I could feel the
pressure of his cock on my sex, and it felt good, hard and longing
for me . His lips searched and teased my mouth. When I moved
in to kiss him, he pulled away.
    "Rule number two, never kiss a client on his or her mouth," he purred.
    "But."
    He placed his finger over my mouth
and whispered in my ear. "Shh. If you are to be one of my girls,
you have to play by the rules."
    "This is protocol,
right?"
    "You are mouthy, aren't
you?"
    "Will it hurt when you go inside
of me?"
    "No," he chuckled. "I'm not going
to fuck you, Ms. Downs."
    But my body begged for pleasure,
and he undid the blindfold.
    "I want you to look at me while
you come. Imagine me pushing deep inside of that pretty pussy," he
said. The way he looked at my body as if it were precious gold
turned me on. I may have never had sex before, but at that moment,
I wanted to be fucked, and hard.
    He rubbed his hand over my breast
and down over my belly button until he was down below. Parting my
sex, he rubbed clockwise with his index and middle finger allowing
my wetness to lubricate. The slow, steady movements felt like
heaven. Little moans escaped from me as he picked up the pace and
moved his hands horizontally and then vertically, learning what I
liked