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“I’ve never lain with a man.” The sloe eyed whore from Volantis looks up at him from under her dark lashes.
Cocking one eyebrow, Bronn looks her up and down, skeptical, as he tosses his shirt into a corner. He’s paid a pretty penny for a virgin, he hopes he’s not just getting the mummer’s version. Her gossamer twists of near clothing leave naught to the imagination, just the way he likes it. He notes her hands twisting behind her back, as though they need something to do. Backing up to take a spot on the mattress, he beckons her closer.
“You’ve seen a cock before, surely.” He unlaces and frees his own proud member, watching for her reaction. Nodding, the perhaps-maiden drops to her knees.
“Do you want my mouth first? This I have done before.” She seems sure of herself here.
“Aye, what man doesn’t want a suck?” Bronn guides her soft head to his crotch, closing his eyes when her lips encircle him. He feels her fingers slipping into his vent, finding his jewels, stroking in time to her sliding headbobs. He groans, knowing it would be easy to release in this moment, but wanting to save himself for the main feast. Clutching her gently by the shoulders, he pulls her to her feet. His gaze bores into her, as he places one hand on her hip, and with the other, draws each of her legs to the outside of his thighs, so she is straddling him. Rough fingers trail up the inside of her leg to her center, testing her juices, teasing her bud.
“Do you feel ready, my girl?” Bronn asks curiously, gruffly, even though his touches assure him her body is quite so. “I’ll be able to tell if your head’s been breached before, you know.” The girl nods shyly, snaking aside a fold of gauzy fabric to expose one large nipple.
Bronn takes the cue, tonguing and sucking, watching her with one eye as she begins to breathe harder, increasing his intensity as he senses her rising arousal and tolerance. Suddenly, he rips away the covering on her other breast, losing a bit of his own control as he fills his consciousness with her flesh. He could take her anytime, he’s paid for the privilege, but he’d rather have her willing than warring when he enters her. With a grunt, he comes up for air, to pose a question past a throat husky with lust.
“Face-to-face or from behind?” He has his preferences, but he can save that for later.
“Face-to-face, m’lord,” she breathes, stepping away to prostrate herself on the bed.
Inhaling deeply, Bronn stands to shed his leather breeches, then knee-walks into the space between her nubile thighs. With himself in hand, he parts her soft lips, applying gentle pressure, finding to his surprise, resistance. Giving a silent nod of appreciation, he roughly claims her mouth, at the same moment he pushes himself deep. She flinches once, then rises to meet him, her startled cry swallowed in their kiss. Bronn loses all thought, knowing only the bliss of her tight channel. His thrusts are steady, relentless, her writhing genuine as she wraps her legs around his waist. Fingernails gouge his buttocks, encouraging his tempo. Their torsos slide against each other, slick with perspiration. Grunts and moans fill the room, vying for the airspace with the sounds of the creaking bedframe. As much as he’d like to prolong the exquisite, Bronn reaches his limit quickly.
“Seven hells!” he breathes through clenched teeth, as his cock pumps out a load worthy of a waterspout at sea. So intent is he on his own release, he barely notices when the taut body beneath him begins to tremble with her own peak.
When he catches his breath, Bronn strokes her hair aside, remarking sardonically, “I guess your price just went down.”
The girl treats him to her first smile of the evening. “It was worth it.”