by Chris Lange
Stuck to his rigid body, she exhaled. “I love you.”
His last powerful thrust struck them both. She wailed, shattered by a devastating, incredible pleasure, limbs quivering, mind blacking out.
He shuddered from head to toe when he spurted his love into her, his hands gripping her shoulders, head buried in her neck. His cries of deep satisfaction ringing in her ears, she released tears of happiness.
Closing her eyes, she hugged him tight. She hugged him for lost time. In unison, they nestled in each other’s arms, catching their breaths, relishing the wonderful feel of their interlocked, exhausted bodies.
On rare occasions, the world had no meaning. Snuggled up in her long lost lover’s arms, she almost forgot about families and responsibilities. This was where she wished to be, where she had always been meant to be. More to the point, she didn’t want the universe to catch up with Garrett.
Soon, he’d gently but firmly break their embrace. Then he’d get dressed, tell her they had just made another mistake that would never happen again, and remind her of his unavoidable duties toward his family and fiancée. Right now, enveloped in his warmth, she didn’t think she could cope with it.
But the world was impatient. The world didn’t wait. As though she brought an end to their union just by thinking about it, he stirred against her and looked at her. She waited him out, breath caught in her lungs.
With a single finger, he caressed dried tears on her cheek. Then he smiled. “You cried.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. She wanted to ask him a million questions, yet she didn’t dare crush the rapture holding them.
“You make me very happy, Garrett.”
“I do, don’t I?”
“Always.”
In spite of their several and intoxicating rolls in the hay, he still sounded a little startled. She nodded twice, his satisfied smile going straight through her heart. Now that he felt positive he had her in his grasp, surely he’d take off.
She swallowed with difficulty. As he had done once before, he’d exit her room and leave utter sadness and misery behind him. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned on one elbow to pull the covers over them.
“For months,” he said, “I believed I’d never behold you again. I ought to have journeyed back to my family after your departure, however I felt endowed with a blind, insensate hope. Hence I stayed in San Francisco. I attempted several travels to your world, but as you discovered, the telepod couldn’t be operated.”
Holy crap, this was getting really, really interesting. Lying motionless by his side, breathing only when she had to, she listened.
“Although I couldn’t offer you a life, at long last I departed to London with despair in my heart. In my absence, Mother had come to an agreement in my stead. I had lost you, thus I accepted to wed Lady Ashton. By the time William arrived in London asking for my assistance in building a new telepod, we were betrothed.”
She squeezed her lips together, the crucial question dying to come out. Had he fallen in love with Miss Perfect?
He brushed a lock of her hair back from her forehead before he stroked her cheek with the tip of his fingers, her neck, the roundness of her shoulder.
Then he kissed her lips softly, his dark gaze boring into hers. “So long have I wished to lay my eyes on your beauty.”
His low tone carried so much longing and loneliness that a surge of compassion swelled her heart. How many sleepless nights had she lain awake, crying to see his face again, craving the touch of his fingers?
Fresh tears threatening to spill out, she began reassessing the hasty, emotional judgment she’d passed on him from the very beginning. He didn’t run back to his family as she’d figured but attempted to cross over worlds to find her. Obsessed with her own hurt, she might have jumped to conclusions a little too fast.
But the last time they were together, he’d clearly indicated his intention not to commit to her. So how could she have guessed he’d try to follow her? She remained silent as he grazed the skin of her arm.
“I don’t recall my childhood,” he said. “Most of my life, I have dutifully performed my obligations, respected my elders and peers, obeyed orders, honored my rank, and fulfilled all of my family’s expectations.”
Jesus. Wealthy or not, some children never got the chance to experience freedom and happiness, did they?
Garrett blinked. “I’m the firstborn, heir to the Burnes dukedom, and my life cannot be otherwise. Had our paths not crossed, I’d never have looked askance at my destiny.”
“Do you now?”
She didn’t mean to speak aloud, but her words came out as a whisper and she wondered for a fleeting second if she really wanted to hear the truth. When he sighed, she figured he’d avoid a direct answer.
“Tracy, your eagerness and spirit has me in thralls for you are a lady of wondrous worths. Each time you converse, smile, or merely behold me, I fear I shan’t have the fortitude to restrain the keen fury of my heart. Albeit I wish to soar with an undaunted wing, I am but bound in chains.”
His poetry was lost on her. Shit, what was he talking about? Although she usually loved the ring of his damn stuffy speech, at this precise minute she needed to understand his every word. All of them.
Don’t go cryptic on me, baby, not now.
“What chains?” she asked.
“You liberated me from blindness. At present, I all but heed and resent those stone walls my family has erected around me. Try as I may, I can’t bear their burdensomeness any longer. My every limb yearns not to remain confined by hereditary bonds and my soul languishes for freedom.”
He paused, his hand suddenly heavy on her shoulder. She’d never seen this tortured, heart-wrenching expression on his face, and the sight of his deep anguish moved her way more than she’d have cared. The unendurable torment in his eyes struck her hard when he looked at her.
“My lady, I am suffocating.”
She pulled his head into the nook of her neck without a single word. Feeling totally helpless, she stroked his hair. She loved him, yet she had no right and no intention to make a decision in his place. He had to fend for himself now, to fight for what he really believed in and desired.
If Garrett wanted her that much, he’d act on it. Or he wouldn’t. Besides, the best help she could give him was to keep taunting and exasperating him. She held him until he stirred. Sighing like a man reluctant to withdraw from her embrace, he placed a long, tender kiss on her lips.
A goodnight kiss.
Yet as he pulled away, she caught a new, strange expression on his face. Embarrassment at opening up to her or reluctance to leave the warmth of her bed? Brow creased, he gazed at her naked limbs like an impatient pirate in front of a long awaited treasure.
Without warning, he swooped down on the swell of her breast. His avid mouth gobbled her nipple and a stab of hunger seized her guts. She let out a cry. He captured her other tit to rub it with the palm of his hand and her hunger blazed into downright starvation.
His tongue flicking back and forth on her erect nipple, his hot palm turning her skin into a field of desire, she parted her lips when a sudden bolt of excitement flooded heat between her thighs.
Then he was all over her. Traveling down he kissed her breasts, every inch of her stomach, the tender skin just above the line of her pubic hair. There he faltered, body tensed as if expecting a go-ahead.
Although burning to be suckled, she didn’t open her mouth. Now that he had expressed his need to be freed from his chains he’d have to step out of his rigid code of conduct and act according to his most ardent desires.
He remained silent for nerve-wracking seconds. Still face down on her stomach, he finally straightened up to stroke her thigh. “I wish to honor your shrine.”
As his request was only met by her silence, he dr
ew her knees up and came to kneel between her parted legs. He stared at the exposed spot he clearly found so seducing and removed his fingers from the crook of her knees to glide them down along the back of her thighs. There he hesitated.
She had to clasp the velvet sheet in her hand to repress a shiver when he began tracing lines of fire on her skin. But before giving her assent, she wanted him to break out of his invisible bonds.
“Garrett, you want to do what to my what now?”
At last, he looked at her face. He appeared tortured by an inner torment, torn between self-restriction, excitement, and an acute craving he needed to put into words.
His handsome features becoming more resolute by the second, his arm muscles bulged and his intense gaze darkened. “Would you let me suck your fanny?”
Her heart leapt with joy. Her blood bounced with lust. Pulse erratic, a leaky wetness pressing its way out of her and a nerve palpitating in her throat, she spread her legs wide open for him. “Oh, yeah.”
His old-fashioned, dirty talk blew her breath away and an irrepressible shiver engulfed her as she watched him lower his head between her thighs. A heartbeat away from being loved by the swipe of his tongue, she unclenched her fingers to release the part of the sheet she crumpled.
Then forbidding, almighty Lord Burnes kissed her sensitive folds and she gripped the bedspread with both hands.
She remembered the first time he went down on her. The wasted months hadn’t altered her memory. He’d been kind of clumsy then, but she also recalled with vivid clarity how his untrained moves had torn a violent orgasm out of her. Anticipation twisting her belly, she closed her eyes.
He slithered his tongue inside her. His slow penetration whooshed air out of her lungs, forcing her to open her mouth. He slid his hands under her taut buttocks and wriggled his tongue farther in.
She tensed, a long moan flowing out of her like a mountain spring. His face pressed against her excited flesh, his lips sealing her pussy, she trembled when his exploration took him even deeper.
She instinctively knew he hadn’t sucked another woman since her. His imprecise, short strokes and eager fumbling told of inexperience, his heavy breathing spoke of unfamiliarity. And for crying out loud, she didn’t give a shit because his tongue inflamed her whole body and had her skin break out with goose bumps.
He licked her insides, his burning lips devouring her sex. Her eyes popped open when he withdrew his tongue to slowly reach up and graze her clit. Unable to breathe, her pussy drenched and engorged, she stared at the ceiling with a single thought reducing her mind to a primal level.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!
But as she braced herself for his impending suckling, his fiery touch vanished. She panted. She listened. Roughened by his own arousal his raucous words sent her to a higher realm of excitement.
“I shall lick your quim until you burst into my mouth.”
Gosh, he was a quick learner. And, oh yes, would he please carry on licking her quim, whatever that meant. Till she cried out. Till she writhed from pleasure.
When he brushed his tongue against her most sensitive spot, her buttocks twitched in his strong palms. He felt it and tightened his grip on her butt to acknowledge her reaction. After that, his intuition and desperate need to content her took over.
He sucked her to the marrow.
Quick and slow, dashing and retreating, soft and harsh, his thrusts became the violin of her pleasure. She did writhe, she did shudder.
She uttered short cries followed by long whimpers of joy. Under her ecstatic body, the quality sheet soaked up her burning sweat. Under the blazing strokes of his tongue, her erect clit throbbed and throbbed.
A wild and pure sensation rose from the pit of her belly to rush down to her pulsating pussy. She cried out his name and gripped both sides of his head to entangle her fingers in the thickness of his hair. Hands tight on her buttocks, he pressed his tongue hard on her clitoris and she climaxed in his mouth.
Pure pleasure pouring out of her, he lapped up her juices until her violent tremors lessened. When the sharp blows of her heart adjusted from pounding to beating, her drained legs crumpled. He moved up to kiss the rapid rise and fall of her belly, the tender stretch of skin between her breasts.
And as he pushed himself sideways to lie against her, she felt his erection on her side. He stroked the curve of her stomach, his hand light as a summer breeze, while his hard cock brushed the bare flesh above her hip.
Although his blatant desire tugged at her heart’s strings, she needed to be sure he wouldn’t cave in at the last minute. “Garrett, will you spend the night here with me?”
His hand froze. The ensuing hushed instant had an uncanny coldness seep through her skin before he sighed and gave her an apologetic smile.
“I must leave you erelong, my lady. I cannot be found here on the morrow.”
In spite of his beautiful speech, his lust and love for her would stay concealed from the eyes of the world. Well, she got her answer as to the depth of his non-commitment to her. Deep down she also realized she hadn’t really expected anything different. Disappointed? Yes. Surprised? No.
Still, a thought tugged at her mind. “You must have been aware of your feelings for some time now. How come you’re only telling me tonight? What prompted you?”
“Your instinctive manners,” he quickly replied.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m referring to what came to pass in my chamber.”
Frowning, she gave him a long, quizzical look, at first without a clue as to what he tried to make her understand. Her tongue on his balls?
But when she got the picture, she couldn’t suppress a little giggle. “Garrett, are you telling me you’ve never been blown?”
While still unfamiliar with her modern expressions, he got her meaning. He nodded, his hard-on heavy against her side. Although she knew he was asking her to suck him off, that was a job for his future wife.
“You know,” she said with impudence, “I’m sure Lady Ashton gives perfect head.”
Chapter 13
Tracy woke up rested, satisfied, and in a cheerful mood. Narrow sunrays filtered through the parted curtains, welcoming the day to come. Last night, an outraged Garrett and his rigid cock had departed her bedroom following her bold remark about Miss Perfect’s sexual disposition.
Garrett had been shocked by her suggestion, frustrated because he didn’t get his bit of fun and clearly excited as a bull in rut. In any case, she didn’t think his born-in-a-diamond-rose, very proper fiancée was the ‘blowing’ kind.
About an hour after waking, Tracy had managed to take a bath in the tub and button up Jessica’s red dress. She had nothing else to wear apart from her futuristic pants and sneakers. She went to the garden house first. In the light of day, the manor felt alive, bustling with morning activity.
Delicious smells of fresh tea and cooking pastries wafted along the corridors and stairs, servants preparing breakfast, chatting, and carrying things around. At some point, she heard someone singing.
No sign of Raphael in the garden house. At this hour and with the blinds up, the sun streamed through the windows and the large place didn’t need the funny ‘lantern-light.’ If the big main room had housed flowers and plants before her father turned it into a lab, it didn’t show anymore.
The once luxurious shed contained several computers, weird machines she didn’t try to identify, scientific equipment and in a corner, the black telepod. Just like in San Francisco and Gold Run.
Near the South wall, a single door led to a smaller room with a bed, a shower, and lavatory behind a curtain and a kitchen all in one. Another door revealed a totally empty room. Did her father have plans for this place?
Smiling at a discarded shirt she knew well, she realized how her dad had been able t
o spend weeks in the Burnes’ property without ever crossing paths with the Lord and Lady Burnes. They clearly never set foot in here.
Raphael must have been delayed so he wouldn’t be back until sunset. She made her way back to the manor and hoped nothing bad happened to him, but she didn’t think so. Strong and cunning, her guardian vampire could handle himself. The Circle would just have to wait for his return.
In the main amazing hallway lit at night by crystal chandeliers, she spotted Andrew coming down the marble stairs, dressed like an aristocratic young man.
He grinned at her before kissing her hand. “How are you this morning, lovely lady? Did you sleep well? Have you found your mysterious friend?”
“Good morning, Andrew. My friend is right where he should be and I hope to get some news tonight.”
“Splendid.”
He winked, happy to be a new member of The Circle, to share secrets and to give an unexpected twist to his life. Taking hold of her hand, he led her toward the main, blessedly empty dining room.
“Where’s everybody?” she asked.
“I heard Mother and Lady Ashton going to church earlier. At this time, Father must be in his study but I haven’t seen William. A pity because I wanted to show him my collection of old muskets.”
“And Garrett?”
“Huh.” Eyes alight with amusement, Andrew seemed to be having a great time at her expense. Surely, at his brother’s too. “Tracy, are you interested in his whereabouts?”
“No.”
She wouldn’t go down that road, at least not until she knew why Andrew lied to her regarding Garrett’s future bride.
As she walked past the table overflowing with various pastries, toasts, scrambled eggs, some kind of sausages, fresh fruit, jams, jellies, and about twenty different beverages, she appreciated the real meaning of a rich, lavish breakfast.