Only You - Lord of the Manor book 1

Chapter 5

'Don't stop this.' he whispers, the vibrations of his voice propelling shockwaves throughout my body. I'm physically shaking. It's way beyond my control.

My breath catches at the back of my throat. 'I don't want to.' My voice is unrecognisable. I can't believe he's captured me like this; I can't believe I'm accepting this.

'It's a good job.' He presses his entire front against my back, his mouth dropping to my ear. 'I'm going to take your clothes off now.'

My nod of agreement is almost non-existent, but he catches it and answers by nipping my earlobe, which only assists in raising the relentless pressure in my already throbbing core.

'You're too fucking beautiful, Louis.' he purrs, skimming his lips across my ear.

'Oh god,' I lean back into him, his erection throbbing through his jeans, pulsing into my lower back.

'Do you feel that?' He circles his hips. I moan. 'I'm going to have you, baby." His words are spoken with absolute conviction.

I'm a complete slave to them. I know he's bound to have had practice in this area; he must have the gift of seduction down to a fine art. I'm not in denial. Everyone must be falling at his feet on a daily basis. He's a well-trained master, seeing and taking what he wants, but it doesn't bother me in the slightest. Right now, I'm here for the taking, with no conscience and no indecisiveness. Caution has been wholly and absolutely thrown to the wind. What harm can it do?

I feel his index finger start at the base of my back, trailing a slow, definite stroke up the centre of my spine, causing my head to roll freely. I plead with my hands to remain at my sides, when all I want to do is turn and devour him, but he's already stopped me from turning to face him once. He clearly likes to be in control.

He slowly takes off my shirt, unbuttoning them one at a time before he pulls the material off my shoulders. I hear him gasp at the exposure of my bare skin. He reaches around to the top of my pants, he grasps the zip and places his hand on my hip. I jerk. It's my ultimate tickle spot and any friction on my hip bone, or the hollow above it, sends me through the roof. Squeezing my eyes shut, I use every ounce of willpower I possess to disregard the contact. It's hard, but the sheer size of his hand splayed across my hip grounds me, keeping me immobile.

The zip of my pants slowly lowers. He removes his hand from my hip, and I'm stunned when I miss the heat immediately. But then I feel both hands slide under the material of my pants and rest on my bare thighs. His fingers flex as he pushes my pants away from me and slowly dragging them down my body, letting it fall to the floor.

His breath catches, and I thank everything holy that its laundry day and I had no other option but to put on one of the pairs of lacy underwear I own, given to me as a joke by Luke. I'm stood in nothing but lace and at the complete mercy of the Adonis looming behind me. What the hell am I doing?

'Hmmm, lace.' he whispers. My waist is griped and I'm lifted out of the pooling pants before being turned to face him. In these shoes, my eyes are level with his chin and with a little flick upwards, I'm focused on his full, beautiful lips and wishing he would lay them on mine. I'm swiftly losing my self-control and my conscience has long left the building. I'm wanton, and with this man, easy.

He lifts a hand and circles my nipple with his thumb, his gaze focused on his movements. My nipples tingle at the contact, lengthening. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips. He knows the affect he's having on me. He introduces his index finger and tweaks the stiff nub. I'm completely rapt by this man studying me so closely, working me up into a shaking, desperate mess. I still can't believe I'm doing this, but damn, can I stop it?

I watch as he brings his other hand up to play with my other nipple. I can no longer keep my hands off of him. My arms lift and my palms settle on his chest. The warmness and firmness hitches my breath. I start to trail my finger down the void between his pecs, smiling to myself when I feel him flinch under my touch and groan low in his throat. Before I can make the most of the access to his body, he turns me back around, and I want to cry inside.