Today's guest is Bronwyn Green, with a sporty treat from her new book In Bounds.
Her summer holiday just got a hell of a lot more complicated.
Ivy Wright knows several things to be true: Marrying a guy who can’t keep it in his pants is a terrible idea. So is having a drunken, secret one-night stand with her best friend’s little brother. And catching a soccer ball with one’s face never works out well for anyone. When all three collide, what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation in the English countryside becomes unbelievably awkward not to mention sexually charged.
While recovering from a potentially career-ending injury, English football player, Will Darby, runs into the one woman he’d given up hope of ever seeing again. No longer chafing at being sidelined, Will is a man on a mission. He’s never forgotten his one and only night with Ivy, and their attraction is stronger than ever.
Convincing her to give him a chance is only the first hurdle. Getting her to admit her kinks and let him give her what she needs physically and emotionally is another, but is their connection enough when her secrets keep pushing them apart?
Placing his hand in the center of her back, he shoved her down toward the mattress. “Hair over your shoulder.”
Ivy swept the silky locks forward and exposed the gorgeous line of her back. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the flogger and dragged the leather over her skin, tracing swirling patterns over her flesh and giving rise to trails of goosebumps as she shivered beneath his touch.
Twisting his wrist, he brought the fronds down against her left cheek. Her skin blushed sweetly, and she startled forward at the impact before moving back into position. He brought his arm down again, letting the strands, still damp with her arousal, snap against her right cheek.
She bowed her head to the mattress and clutched at the bedding, fisting the fabric in her grip as he let the flogger’s tails fall against her back. He alternated left to right, arse to back, occasionally letting the fronds wrap around her to catch the sides of her tits and even her nipples if he got a lucky shot. Her whimpers punctuated the arousing sound of leather against her soft, lush skin.
Stepping closer to where she knelt on the bed, he slid the wooden handle between her knees and nudged them apart.
“That’s it, love. Let me see that pretty pink cunt.”
She shifted, baring herself to him. Her thighs were shiny with her juices, and he leaned down and swiped his tongue across her flesh, letting her sweet, tangy taste coat his tongue.
When she squirmed, he slapped the outer curve of her ass. “Unless you’re ready to end it, you need to keep your arse right where I want it.”
He draped his arm over the small of her back and held her where he wanted her and dragged his tongue up her exposed cleft, loving the way she trembled as she fought to hold herself still for him. He repeated the action, nuzzling her slick flesh and thrusting his tongue inside her, listening with satisfaction to her guttural moans.
Once she let herself get past the anxiety and discomfort that continued to plague her, she was so beautifully responsive. He’d love to see her banish the self-consciousness for good and just freely accept how fucking gorgeous she was.
“Oh, god, Will.”
He sank his teeth into the sweetly rounded curve of her hip before he answered. “Yeah?”
“Please just fuck me already. I’m dying.”
He adjusted his grip on the flogger and brought it down across her arse, smiling as she lifted into the stroke. With his free hand, he reached into the bag and grabbed a condom as he continued to lash the backs of her thighs, and back, watching as the fronds curved up and around to snap hungrily at her pussy. She squirmed, clearly wanting more and less at the same time.
Her reactions were more arousing than he ever would have believed. Steady lines of pre-come leaked from his cock, dripping down his shaft, and his balls ached, threatening to spill all over her lash-reddened skin. He laid the flogger across the small of her back while he quickly sheathed himself and climbed onto the bed behind her. His knee twinged at bearing his weight, so he shifted slightly to the side in hopes of relieving the pressure long enough to give them both what they needed.
Gripping his cock at the base, he dragged it up and down her dripping slit. “This what you want?” he practically grunted as he centered himself at her opening.
“Yes, please. Please. Please. Please. Please.”
He dug his fingertips into her hips and held tight. “How could I deny you when you beg so sweetly?” He paused for a moment. “I mean…I suppose I could.”
She shoved her hips back at the same time she groaned out the word, “No.”
But his hands on her hips kept her from impaling herself on this dick.
“God damn it, Will.” She panted with frustration. Her head dropped and her arms shook with unrelieved tension.
When he sensed the fight go out of her, he slammed forward, roughly filling her. Her back arched, and her breath pushed from her body on a surprised squeal as he seated himself fully within her. Her channel clenched around him, sending ripples of awareness of how close he was to the edge. He refused to leave her hanging and unfulfilled.
Lifting the flogger from her back, he gathered the ends in his other hand and leaned forward, bringing the collected strands over her head to rest around her neck, startling a gasp from her. As soon as the leather wrapped around her neck, her internal muscles clamped down on him as little unintelligible sounds escaped her lips.
Any attempts to hold back and let her find her peak first vanished at the sight of her straining into the flogger and the feel of her flooding arousal coating them both. He’d never seen anything hotter in his life. Or more beautiful. It seemed like the more time he spent with her, the more often he had that thought.
Then there were no more thoughts. There were only the sounds of their bodies straining wetly together and their harsh breaths—Ivy as she trembled toward her release and Will as he tried to hold his at bay, all the while shafting her harder and faster.
“Tighter,” she whispered—half demand, half plea.
His cock twitched, her need for more nearly overwhelming him. He shifted the leather and handle to one hand and buried his other hand in the silk of her hair and yanked.
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Bronwyn Green
is an author, blogger, and compulsive crafter. She lives in Michigan
with her husband, two children, and four somewhat psychotic cats. When
not frantically writing, she can be found binge-watching Netflix while
working on her latest craft project.
Twitter: @Bronwyn_Green
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/
Pinterest: https://www.
Website: http://bronwyngreen.
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