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Ancient magical artifact used in chain of seductions.

"Good girl," he said, releasing her mouth. He stroked her bottom lip with his finger then pressed her mouth open, putting it inside. She sucked his finger eagerly, until he withdrew it and stroked it, still moist from her mouth, down along her jawline to her throat and shoulders, caressing her as the wind had done. His other hand slid down across the silk of her dress, across her belly and down her thighs. When his hand slipped beneath the hem of the skirt to stroke her bare buttocks, she let one hand go of the railing involuntarily, reaching for him.

"No," he said sharply. Grasping her hand firmly, he replaced its grip on the railing. "Don't move, don't turn around, don't speak." His voice was a low and harsh, his breath warm against her ear. "Close your eyes."

She quivered and did as she was told. The low thud of waves on the beach, the rough stones of the seawall pushing against her, the cries of gulls and the tug of the wind were all lost to her as she yielded to the sensations he was evoking, feeling only her body and his hands on it. Her stomach felt tight, her thighs loose and liquid. His hand brushed across her breasts, a bare, teasing touch, and her nipples sprang up into hard peaks, aching for more. He pinched first one, then the other, pinching and pulling on them until she gasped. Between her thighs, she felt herself grow slippery and hot. She felt him slip a hand between her legs, and then felt his fingers, as though tasting her wetness, slip the barest inch inside her and back out, spreading her wetness across the lips of her sex. She bit her lip against the moan in her throat. She had been waiting for this, anticipating this...for days. Weeks even.

He brought his hand to her lips. "Taste it," he said. "Taste yourself on my fingers."

She licked his fingers, one by one, drawing them into her mouth and tasting her own sweet huskiness on them.

Abruptly he pushed against her, pinning her against the seawall. His body was hard and heavy against her, the seawall harder, scraping her belly and thighs as her body was pinned between them. It was hard to breathe, hard to think... His lips touched her ear, his teeth scraped her neck, his tongue slid along her jawline just below her ear. Her eyes were still closed, but she could see him in her mind's eye, see him touching her, his hands on her breasts, his body against hers. When he slid his hand between her thighs again she sighed and willingly opened herself to him. He slid his fingers into her then, into the wet, dark recesses of her and she shuddered.

"Please..." her voice was a choked whisper, the word uttered involuntarily.

"Quiet!" he growled in her ear. Grabbing a handful of her hair he gave it a vicious yank, pulling her head back against him, turning her face up to his. She didn't dare to open her eyes, just stood there, quivering. Then, apparently satisfied with her acquiescence, he let her hair go and pushed her head forward again.

"Good," he said. Then, "I know what you want, sweetheart..." And then he pulled back from her for a moment, leaving her cold and alone, but only for a moment so that she whimpered again, low in her throat, but she kept her hands on the railing and her eyes shut, trusting him, knowing that yes, he did know what she wanted. In the next moment he was pressing against her again. She could him, hard and rigid against her buttocks as he spread her thighs wide. With a single, quick thrust he was suddenly inside her, stretching her, filling her, fucking her. She couldn't contain the gasp and moan that spilled from her, as her eyes flew open and then were squeezed tightly shut again.

He didn't move for a moment, just stood there, buried deep inside her, his lips on her neck, where he bit, very gently, and then harder and harder, until she was afraid that he meant to draw blood.

He didn't though, instead pulling back to whisper in her ear, "That's what you wanted, isn't it? You want me inside you, fucking you, don't you?"

She whimpered, knowing that he was righ

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