Read Silent Surrender for Free Online

touch when he stepped back and pushed his trousers down. He was already hard and her eyes widened at the size of him. Had she really taken him into her body? Even as she doubted it, her cleft ached with emptiness. She wanted him so badly that when he touched her, she came close to begging him with her voice. Tying her hands was as effective as gagging a hearing woman and she doubted she would have ever let anyone besides him do such a thing to her. Their arrangement had inspired a strange trust in her; he would not do anything she did not want him to, and it seemed clear they both knew it.
    Still, when he pressed his body against hers, the rigid column of his male flesh pushed tight against her stomach, she felt a thrill of trepidation. That she knew he would not harm her wasn’t enough. Not knowing what would come next, what sensual torture he might inflict, welcome though it would be, turned her already heightened anticipation into a physical reaction. She writhed against the bed post, felt the bite of it against her back and pushed into it. When he knelt before her and slowly drew her drawers down, she almost kicked him in the process of trying to fling the garment aside. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and buried his face in her coarse hair, wet from her earlier climax. His breath, the stubble on his chin, the hot softness of his lips all teased her to a burning frenzy. The satisfaction she’d just had seemed a long way off, and when his tongue parted her, seeking out her sensitive nub, she thought she might weep with frustration. Her desire burned so hot and the journey toward appeasement seemed so long.
    He circled her, sucked her into his mouth, delved between her folds like a cat licking up cream. Indeed, it seemed he loved the taste of her as he burrowed his tongue deep in her clenching channel. She gripped the post, ignoring the bite of the cord around her wrists, and writhed her hips against his mouth until finally he returned to that sweet place that would bring her fulfillment. He sucked the bud between his lips, tapped with his tongue and teased her with the edges of his teeth until she bucked and shrieked, her legs thrashing senseless against his back. The cord biting into her wrists released her suddenly, and she scrambled to get a tighter hold on the post.
    Esau did not let her fall, supporting her back easily with his arms as she disentangled her legs from his shoulders. She thought he would set her on her feet again, but she got no lower than his hips. Trapping her between his thickly muscled body and the hard bedpost, he entered her in one strong, deep thrust. Her intimate flesh protested for a moment, still unused to being so filled, and the stinging stretch took her breath away. He did not display any of his earlier gentleness, burying his face in her neck, biting and sucking at her throat until all she felt was the wicked pleasure of his tongue lapping over her skin, the hardness of his body against her, the harder post at her back. She wriggled, squeezed between two immoveable objects, her ankles clasped behind his back. Every movement only heightened the sensation of his hard flesh inside her, driving deep, slamming her hips backward into the sharp flowers and whorls carved into the bedpost.
    It wasn’t enough, and he seemed to know it too. He lifted her off him, spun her so she could not see his face, though she heard the deep rumble of his voice as his chest pressed her into the bed and his cock pushed inside her again. Her hands clutching the duvet, she could only hold on as he pounded into her, her feet slipping on the rug as he crushed her down on the bed. She wanted it to never stop, wanted him to go harder, faster, to punish her body with his, to leave an indelible mark, some soreness in her bones. She wanted to remember this feeling long after he withdrew from her, long after she’d sailed away to France and her spinsterhood. If he killed her now, if she died from the pleasure and