by Monica Burns
Her cream had tasted hot before, but damn she tasted even better this time. With every kiss, caress and taste of her, he’d expected to ease the need gnawing at him inside. But the opposite was true. Each time he touched her simply increased his desire. Pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, he ached to bury himself in her slick, wet core.
Throwing his head back, he looked up to see her lovely mouth forming a soft circle as she drank in short, sharp gasps of air while the shudders wracking her body eased. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his body literally sliding up over her naked skin.
The heat of her pressed into him, and he grimaced at the way his body responded to her. Bloody hell, he needed to just fuck her until they were both spent, and then he’d take her again and again until he ended this damnable lust she stirred in him. As if she could read his mind, she pressed herself against his erection, and he bit back a groan.
The soft skin of her buttocks dimpled slightly as his fingers bit into her, and he tugged her tight against his hips. It was a possessive gesture. A signal he wouldn’t let her leave him. But she didn’t want to escape. It might be sinful and wicked, but she wanted him. The desire coursing through her was more powerful than anything she’d ever felt for any man, including her husband. She heard him pull in a deep breath as he rested his forehead against hers for a moment.
“You go to my head, yâ sabāha.”
She couldn’t see his face from behind the blindfold she wore, but the hoarse, oddly tender, note in his voice made her quiver in his arms. She went to his head? The man had no idea what he was doing to every one of her senses. If she were wise, she’d make certain he didn’t find out. He would use the knowledge to bend her to his will. His mouth brushed across the side of her neck, and small shivers of pleasure raced across her skin.
God, she wanted him to suckle her again. The thought of his mouth on her made the tips of her breasts grow taut with need. When his lips finally tugged her nipple into his mouth she trembled at his caress. Sweet heaven, the man was a mind reader. His fingers returned to the sensitive spot between her legs, and her hips bucked beneath his stroke. Oh dear Lord, if he kept this up she wouldn’t be able to remain standing. She swayed, grateful for the strong arm wrapped around her waist. Her arms dimpled with goose bumps as his fingers parted her slick folds once more. Pleasure whipped through her and she whimpered at his touch.
“Oh, God, Lucien.”
“Remember I told you tonight was about the senses, yâ sabāha. Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
“On fire…I’m on fire.” Her body screamed with an exquisite need for more of his touch. “Please, Lucien, I want you.”
“And I want you, yâ sabāha.”
The black silk covering her eyes heightened her other senses, and she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. She raised her hands and cupped his face, the rough stubble scratching at the pads of her fingers. She tried to pull his head down to meet her lips, but he resisted her without any effort. As if to punish her for daring to distract him, his fingers pressed relentlessly against the tight nub of flesh between her legs. He increased the pace of his stroking, and she found herself riding a crest of sensation that was decadent, exquisite and dangerous.
“Lucien, please,” she gasped.
”Please what, my sweet?”
“Oh dear Lord, I don’t think…”
The fevered pitch inside her rose quickly to assault her nerve endings, and she uttered a cry of delight as she exploded once more. As she shuddered against him, Lucien gripped her hips and knelt to lick at her with his tongue again. The sinful nature of his touch only intensified the rivers of sensation cresting over her body.
Inside her, a fire raged out of control. Untamed, it threatened to consume her completely. Her hand flailed in the air as she tried to touch him in the darkness. When she found his shoulders, she braced herself against his strength.
“Lucien, please, I don’t think I can remain standing for much longer.”
The soft chuckle tickling her thigh echoed with triumph, and she reached for the blindfold. In an instant he was on his feet to stop her from removing the silk scarf. His hand was warm against her skin.
“I don’t think quite yet, my lovely Isis.”
“Dear God, Lucien, I don’t deny how much I’m enjoying this, but I need to sit down.”
“And sit you shall, my dear, but there are still two senses we haven’t yet explored.” The delight in his husky tone made her smile.
“Then let me see you,” she demanded, delighting in this game they were playing.
“Hmmm,” he said softly, the smile of satisfaction in his voice easy to hear. “No, I think touch is the next sense I want you to experience.”
“Touch?” She laughed. “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”
“I think it’s time you touched me.”
She heard him step away from her followed by a soft rustling sound. Stretching out her arms, she took a tentative step forward. A quiet laugh to the side of her made her turn as though she were playing blind man’s bluff. Seconds later, her hands encountered a hard, bare chest. Pleasure parted her lips in a sigh.
“You feel as wonderful as I remember.”
Almost as if her words had surprised him, the muscles of his hard chest tightened then flexed under her caress. His body was warm, supple steel against her palms. There was a raw power in the way his sinewy muscles tightened at her touch. She slowed her exploration of him to savor the sound of his ragged breathing. He liked the way she was touching him. She smiled. Her touch didn’t just please him—it aroused him. Taking her time, she continued to map his chest with her hands, her fingers lightly grazing the flat tip of his breasts. He hissed in a sharp breath at her touch before he reciprocated and stroked her taut nipples with his thumbs.
She pressed her breasts into his touch, the pleasure of it mixing with the joy she found in memorizing the hard line of his body. The taut muscles in his chest gave way to bare skin across his waist and abdomen. The flat planes of his stomach tensed as she moved her hands downward. And breathed in a breath of pleasure.
He was completely naked.
The soft rustling she’d heard a few moments ago had been him undressing. Tentatively, she slid her hand down to his groin. The moment her fingers glided over the tip of his hard erection, his solid length jumped at the light touch.
The guttural sound he made was a primitive, primeval sound. It said he found her touch intense and pleasurable. A tremor shot through her. Her caresses aroused him. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She tightened her grasp around his hard, thick erection. Beneath her thumb, a wet bead of desire seeped out of him, and she smeared it slowly over the tip of his phallus.
“Is this what you meant when you said you wanted me to experience the sensation of touch?”
She could hear the womanly note of power in her question and she smiled with the expectation of hearing him laugh. Instead he stiffened against her. Even blind she knew his expression had darkened. Had she angered him? Placing her palm against his heart, she willed her gift to show her what he was feeling, but she saw nothing. The air between them was heavy with unspoken emotion, and she knew he was struggling to control whatever demons she’d aroused in him.
“Not quite,” he said roughly.
As he swept her up into his arms, she released a small cry of surprise. Blindly, she reached out, and her fingers brushed across the taut planes of his cheek. His teasing mood had evaporated under the stress of battling an inner beast. The savage tension reverberating off him didn’t alarm her. If anything, it made her want to ease the pain and conflict she sensed in him. She recognized the folly of such an emotion, but she couldn’t suppress her desire to ease his suffering.
Without any warning, he dropped her unceremoniously onto his bed, and she cried out once again. She reached up to remove her blindfold, then gas
ped as he roughly pinned her hands over her head, while his hard muscular frame pinned her to the mattress.
The darkness suddenly driving him should have frightened her, but it didn’t. Her instincts told her she was safe with him. If anything, his dominating manner only heightened the desire flooding her body. She was at his mercy and no longer in control. The sensation excited her. Unable to help herself, she sobbed a sharp breath of expectation. God, she wanted him. Needed him inside her. She shifted her hips upward, trying to encourage him to take her.
“Not yet, yâ sabāha. I want you pleading with me to thrust into that hot little honey pot of yours. I want to hear you begging me to fuck you.”
Although she was still unaccustomed to the coarse language, his tone of voice was what shocked her. The turbulent emotions layered beneath the words were dark and raw.
“Say it,” he growled. There was a saturnine edge to his voice, and it betrayed the battle he waged against some inner turmoil.
“I…I want you.”
His body flexed with tension against hers, and in response she tingled with need. He wanted more from her. He wanted her complete surrender. His teeth roughly abraded her nipple almost to the point of pain. Still unable to see his face, she could only imagine the ferocity of his expression as he nipped his way up to the side of her neck and then her earlobe.
“Tell me you want my cock.” Blinded not only by the silk over her eyes, but by need as well, she shuddered at the sardonic, compelling command.
“Oh dear God,” she whimpered.
“Admit how badly you need me, Isis.”
“Lucien, please. I want—”
“I know what you want, yâ sabāha. But until you tell me what I want to hear, you’ll stay just like this—hot, unfulfilled and whimpering with need.”
Her body jerked as the tip of him pressed against her damp curls. Immediately her muscles grew taut, silently pleading with him to enter her. How could he deny her like this? Deny himself? And she was certain he wanted her as much as she wanted him. He’d pushed her to the edge of insanity, and now he seemed determined to continue torturing her. She released a soft moan of frustration.
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you do. You want me buried inside you—ramming into you until that hot little cunny of yours milks cum out of me.”
“Yes, please, Lucien,” she sobbed. “I want you inside me.”
“I want your cock inside me.” The savage darkness in his voice made her swallow hard, and she winced. His fingers tightened on her wrists. “Say it, now.”
“Please…I want…I want your cock inside me.”
Never in her life had she ever used such coarse language. It sent an illicit thrill down her spine as it rolled off her tongue. A split second later Lucien thrust himself deep inside her. Primal and exquisite, the hard stroke forced a sharp cry of pleasure from her. He filled her completely, his erection stretching and expanding her until she wanted to weep from the joy of it. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire, and she tried to shift her position beneath him when he didn’t move.
“For the love of God, Lucien.” She twisted slightly against his powerful hold. “You’re tormenting me.”
Her insides tightened and flexed around his hard thickness as he moved just a fraction. She wanted more, but he seemed hell bent on denying her the release she needed so badly.
“Am I?”
“You…know…you…are,” she panted.
“Your torment is nothing compared to the hell I’ve endured for more than three months,” he rasped as he dragged his mouth across her shoulder and down to her breast. “I’ve ached for you, hungered for just one more taste of you.”
Restrained anger filled his harsh tone, but something else echoed under the surface. Desperation? She shuddered as his mouth singed her with each word he uttered. Never in her life had she ever been so hot and needy—not even that night at the Clarendon. Raw and powerful, the craving for his touch clawed at her until she could think of nothing but the blinding ache tearing through her body.
After an endless moment of intense need, he moved inside her. She’d expected to feel relief. Instead, she trembled with a stark hunger for more. God, if only he would move faster. She wanted him to take her with the same wild intensity he had that night at the Black Widows Ball. Slowly he eased himself out of her then pressed back into her snug sheath. If she could only caress him, perhaps she could entice him not to draw out this hot, leisurely seduction.
Desperate, she tried to tug her hands free of his strong grip. It was a futile effort. Her punishment for trying to break free was the wet, hot sweep of his tongue around the tip of her breast. The lazy movement illustrated how powerless she was against his relentless strength. She could do little more than sob as he slowly slid back into her. It was a maddening pace, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make him increase the rhythm of his strokes. Her insides clutched at him in desperation as a whirlwind of blistering need raced through her.
“Lucien! For the love of God, please.”
“I’ve given you what you asked for, Isis.” His voice echoed with desire as his breath blew hot flames over her skin. “I’ve buried my cock inside you.”
“But I want more. I want…I want…”
“Say it.” The harsh command was a dark growl as he plunged back into her.
“Oh God, Lucien, I want you to fuck me.”
A gasp of shock blew past her lips as she recognized the base level her need had reduced her to. She had little time to dwell on the knowledge as a deep groan rolled out of him, and he withdrew then pumped back into her with a powerful thrust.
“And I, yâ sabāha, want you to see me fuck you.”
Darkness became light as Lucien whipped the blindfold off her eyes, and she blinked. Hovering over her, his strong features were dark with desire and a grim triumph blazed in his gaze. Her eyes adjusted to the soft candlelight and widened in surprise as she looked past his shoulder. In the ceiling of his bed canopy, mirror tiles reflected the decadent image of their entwined bodies on a large bed of red silk sheets.
Her gaze jerked back to his as he began to slide in and out of her at a faster pace. It was decadent—wicked—sinful. She’d never felt such intense pleasure before, and her eyes fluttered shut.
“No,” he rasped sharply. “Look at me. At us. Tonight there are no masks. Only Isis and the man who possesses her.”
Startled, her eyes flew open to meet his intense gaze. The desire reflected in his dark eyes was all consuming and potent. In the candlelight, their reflection in the mirrors captured her attention once more. It was wickedly erotic to see him burrowed between her legs, his strong sculpted buttocks arching up and down as he drove into her with heavy thrusts.
She knew she shouldn’t enjoy watching his strong, naked body moving over hers, but she did. She loved it. Wanting more of him, she bent her legs and opened herself wide to give him better access to her. The moment she did so, he groaned and lowered his head to kiss her hard. The pressure building inside her made her arch upward into his kiss with a demand of her own.
The first ripple of sensation she felt was breathtaking. Inside her, his hard length jerked against the tiny spasm lacing through her. Still driving into her, his body demanded and pleased at the same time. Tiny spasms followed the first, and in one split second she shattered beneath him.
As she cried out in pleasure, he plunged deep into her with one last stroke. The wild roar breaking from his lips matched hers in intensity as he throbbed inside her. For several long moments, their bodies flexed together in the ebbing tide of their lovemaking until a languid warmth filled her limbs. Looking up at him, she noted the possessive gleam in his eyes.
He’d done exactly what he’d said he would do. He’d branded her—spoiled her for any other man. She closed her eyes against the ramifications of that knowledg
e. No matter what else happened between them, this night would be a precious memory of incredible passion. As the weight of him settled into her curves, Lucien captured her mouth in a hard kiss. A kiss of possession.
In a fluid movement, he rolled off her to lie flat on his back. Satiated, she sighed softly as a warm silence hung in the air between them. She turned her head to see he’d closed his eyes, and she relished the opportunity to study him.
Not only was he handsome, but there was great strength and power in his features as well. Slowly, her gaze slid down over his body. Hard and sinewy, he possessed a devastating masculine appeal that both alarmed and excited her in one fell swoop. What would it be like to wake up each morning with this man at her side?
Appalled at the direction of her thoughts, she closed her eyes against the reflection of the two of them lying side by side in his bed. Sweet Mother of God, how could she even contemplate such a thought? The moment he learned about her ability, she’d be subjected to his ridicule and scorn. It was madness to entertain such an arrangement. Biting her lip, she realized how ridiculous all of it sounded. She’d just made love with the man—there could be no other arrangement more intimate than that.
“You were late.”
Steel edged his quiet statement as he remained on his back with his eyes closed. His observation startled her for a moment until the context of his words sent warm pleasure flowing through her. She’d kept him waiting, and he hadn’t like it. He’d been impatient for her to arrive.
“Yes, your grandmother delayed me.”
“My grandmother?” He turned his head and fixed his startling blue gaze on her.
“I walked with her to her room when she retired for the night.”
Rolling onto his side, he traced the line of her jaw with his thumb. “She likes you very much.”
“Yes, I like her too. She’s so sad and lonely. If I’d realized sooner, I would have—”