“It’ll only be wrong if you stop,” she coaxed.
“An innocent no longer,” I whispered. Then I began to move. I lifted and lowered her on my cock until her head fell back, her mouth open in pleasure, her hair tickling the backs of my hands. She looked so wanton, so hot, so perfect, so pleasurable. I shagged her. I shagged a little innocent. A little innocent rode my cock like a whore. And I allowed it.
“An innocent no longer,” she confirmed. This inflamed me. Without taking her off my cock, I stood up. My trousers fell around my ankles as I stood and sat her on the edge of my desk. I didn’t withdraw. I couldn’t have if I’d tried this time. I didn’t withdraw from her. In fact, I took more and more of her as I pushed her legs wide and looked down at the place where we were joined. Her body swallowed my cock, her folds all swollen and pretty. My cock was slick with her essence as I tunneled into her.
“So lovely,” I crooned. I strummed my thumb across that pulse point, the one that was overruling my common sense. She clenched my cock even tighter as I stroked inside her. Her breaths were coming in heavy grunts now. The noise blew across the shell of my ear. “No one has ever been inside you. You’re so tight. I’m the first.”
Then she broke. I didn’t expect her to shake so violently in my arms. But she did. She cried out loudly, clutching my shoulders. Her body convulsed with every stroke of my cock. I erupted inside her, shoving myself to the hilt as she took everything I had to give her. I stilled when it became painful to move inside her. I was too raw. My soul was too bare.
“You are a siren, Miss Winters,” I said. When my breathing slowed, I chuckled and withdrew from her still-pulsing sheath. It was almost painful to retreat from her. But I knew I had to.
“You are a rogue, my lord,” she sighed as I lowered her legs to the floor.
I buttoned up the front of my trousers, tucking my length inside. My British accent disappeared along with my manhood. “Where did you get the costumes?” I asked.
“Costume shop,” she twittered at me. She’d left mine on the bed with nothing more than a note. Without question, I’d donned the suit and met her at her request. I never turned her down.
I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “Can I be a highwayman next time?”
“I was thinking of a stable hand. One who seduces a lady?”
“Oh, nice.” I said, making the vowels last. “I like it.” I dropped into my chair and turned toward my computer. “What time are you picking up the kids?”
She glanced at the clock on my desk. “In ten minutes,” she said. Then she scurried toward the door.
As she started down the hallway, I thought about her fantasies. “How about a priest?” I called to her retreating back. She could force me to lift my cossack and take the little virgin. Oh, yes, she could force me to defile her. God, I loved my wife.