Page 12 of The Earl’s Gamble (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life)

12

Griff

H ow had Griff lived for so long without this ?

Giving Rose the power to master him was a pleasure so exquisite he didn’t think he would be right again without it. He needed it like the oxygen in his lungs and the blood in his veins. Was opium meant to be addictive? Because it was no comparison to the alchemy of submitting to the woman before him.

He was but her humble servant, at her beck and call.

Griff crawled onto the bed, dropping kisses onto his fiancée in her repose—including on the ring on her finger. “Well?” he asked expectantly, stroking her hair from her face.

Her blink was slow. “Well what?”

“You said I may attempt to please you.” A wolfish smirk broke free. “How was my attempt?”

She quirked her eyebrow. Apparently the only part of her she had the energy to move. “You’re fishing for compliments.”

“Absolutely.” He nodded, slanting his lips over hers to savour the fullness of her mouth. Delving his hand into her hair, he slid his tongue along hers as renewed need gathered at the base of his spine. Her response was lulled to begin with, but as the seconds passed, she gained renewed vigour, as though the exhaustion of her climax was wearing off.

“I’ve never been so pleased in my life. Is that what you want to hear?”

He winked. “Very much so.”

Rose lifted her hand to his chest, flattening it around his pectoral muscles before following the trail of dark hair migrating south. “When you say you wish to serve me…”

“Yes?” he asked, allowing her to push him onto his back.

“Do you just mean with your tongue?”

He shook his head, his breath hitching as she neared the thatch of coarse hair at the base of his aching cock. “No. I like the idea of being…being conquered , for want of a better word. I want to give you power over me.”

Rose bit her lip, her touch exploring his torso and thighs—whilst being careful not to drift too close to his cock. “Tell me what you need, Griff.”

A shiver of lust made him tremble as she came within an inch of his cock, right before pulling away. Where did he start? He had years of fantasies that he had been sure would forever remain just that. The idea of turning them into a reality had his cock twitching. “Teasing me is a…” He exhaled heavily as her touch whispered over his cock, need crawling up his spine. “A good place to start.”

Her innocent blink was utterly beguiling. So soft. So feminine. So cruel. And he loved it . “You mean like this?”

“Yes—oh fuck —yes, my lady.”

“Such language is unbecoming, especially in front of a lady.” There was a devilish glint in her eye. She was far too good at this. “I think you should apologise.”

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Desire throttled his voice into one of desperation. “Forgive me.”

Rose pushed herself into a sitting position, straddling his legs until his cock strained up before her. Her pleated skirts pooled around her. His lady . “Tell me what else you need, Griff. ”

Where did he start? “I…” He swallowed. Outside of this room, he had so many responsibilities. So many people to care for, so many needs to meet. Investments and harvests and Parliament and estates. But inside? “I want to be yours. Your plaything. I want you to use my cock and my tongue whenever you need. To tease and torture me in equal amounts. To drain me. I want to serve your every need, my lady. Whether it’s fetching your breakfast in the morning or licking your cunt at night. And I want…”

She ran a teasing finger up his cock, pulling away before she reached the swollen tip. “Yes?”

“I want you to run your fingers through my hair and tell me I’m a good boy.”

Rose’s hushed gasp was layered in lust, but the sight of her biting her lip almost had him exploding. She leant over him on her hands and knees, the fabric of her skirts brushing his skin. “You are such a good boy,” she whispered, rubbing her nose against his.

He shuddered as her nails gently raked across his scalp, until he was nothing but a puddle of hot, needy contentment. “My lady,” he choked out, overcome at the fact that his fantasies were actually happening . “I’ll always be a good boy for you.”

“Then pull my dress off.” Her words were curt, an abrupt change from her whispered praise.

Griff’s hands jumped into motion. The teddy he’d ripped earlier came off with the dress, leaving her straddling his thighs nude. He exhaled as he took her in, captivated by the curve in her waist, the weight of her breasts resting against her rib cage, the soft swell of her rear. Every part of him throbbed with need. “You’re perfection, my lady.”

She looked down at his agonisingly hard cock, and it only got harder beneath the weight of her judgement. “You say you want me to use you?”

He nodded. “Use me, my lady. I beg you. ”

Rose lifted herself up, shifting forward until she hovered over his cock with a fiendish smirk. He could feel the heat of her body lurking just out of reach of his straining erection. “Do you want to be inside me?”

His answer was immediate. “Yes. God, yes.”

Relief filled him when she lowered down on him, the tip of his cock inching inside her—until she lifted out of reach again, enjoying his tortured moan.

“Please, my lady. Please.”

She lowered again, just wetting the head before lifting off, and again, and again, and again . Her smirk grew with each repetition, enjoying seeing him unravel beneath her into a pleading mess. His entire world reduced to Rose and the power she held over him.

The next time she descended, he almost dreaded it, because he knew it would mean a single second of ecstasy before she snatched it away. Dreaded it and revelled in it.

But then his eyes rolled back in his head as she descended completely in one movement. A harsh, tight groan ripped from him, an echo of the high gasp of pleasure Rose let out, throwing her head back with delight.

A moment later, she bent over him again, until her elbows were above his shoulders and her hands stroking his hair. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” he vowed, his hands coming to her hips—and then he noticed the shaking. Her bad leg is shaking with exertion.

“I need you to fuck me like a good boy.”

He didn’t need her to say it twice, locking his arms around her and thrusting upwards into her slick heat. Griff buried his groan in her neck, devouring her high-pitched sob and the way she trembled in his arms with each plunge. Her breathy gasps were right next to his ear, sending shivers down his spine and mingling with the desire residing there .

Obscenely wet slaps drowned out their noises of pleasure, until his thrusts grew harder and faster, amplifying the noise. Rose whimpered and mewled and trembled, and he loved it. He loved that he could reduce her to this. Her fingers digging into the covers, her eyes closed at the onslaught, and her thighs spread over him, until all she was able to do was receive the pleasure he offered.

But then a choke gusted over his ear, her body going rigid and silent.

“Yes,” he snarled. Her trembles turning into full-bodied shakes and moisture gushing out of her cunt. He could feel it everywhere , dripping down his cock to pool at his navel, droplets showering his thighs, and he vowed next time it would be on his face, until he could swallow it down to his heart’s content. Her walls tightened around his length, pulsing with the beginnings of his climax. “Drench me, my lady. Drain me.”

He couldn’t stop. Not now. Griff let out a long, lusty groan into her neck, his hips moving on instinct as they crashed against Rose’s. Every thrust felt better than the last, until sinking into her felt like heaven on earth and the strength of his orgasm grew to dizzying heights.

He came back down to earth before she did, lovingly settling the two of them beneath the covers. For several long minutes, they merely lay there, her head on his shoulder and their chests rising and falling in quick succession.

Eventually, though, Rose rolled onto her front and propped herself onto an elbow. He purred as her hand ran through his hair, her nails rasping against his scalp. “Good boy,” she whispered, sending a tremor of contentment over his shoulders.

Griff took her lips in a languid kiss, one of relief and exhaustion and mutual pleasure. “Thank you, my lady.”