Tomorrow's Dreams

by Heather Cullman

  He smiled with sudden inspiration. Perhaps the answer to his problem was as simple as extinguishing the light. In the past they’d always made love in the dark, and the lack of visual stimulation had done much to bridle his runaway passions.

  But would it work now that he’d had an eyeful of her gorgeous body? Desperate enough to try anything, Seth reached over Penelope’s shoulder to turn down the flame of the desk lamp.

  “It’s’ all right,” she said, stopping him. “I don’t mind if you see me naked.”

  “Well, I do mind,” he growled.

  There was short pause and then, “You don’t … like my body?”

  “Not like it?” Seth drew back, staring at her in amazement. “I like it too damn much. Just the sight of it is almost enough to make me lose myself. That’s why I need to turn down the lamp.”

  She returned his stare for a moment, then laughed, a low, husky sound. “A man of the world like yourself losing himself at the sight of a half-naked woman? Really, Seth! How absurd.”

  “Not so absurd when the half-naked woman happens to be you,” he retorted, his urgency almost peaking as she stood up and let her skirts slowly slide to the floor. The fabric of her drawers was so sheer that to Seth’s almost ruinous disconcertment, the dark triangle between her legs was clearly visible.

  As she posed before him, one hand on her sweetly rounded hip, the other resting on the tantalizing swell of her breasts, something inside him snapped.

  Sobbing with the agony of long-repressed need, he lunged forward and grabbed her, raining reckless kisses on her face and breasts as he wrestled her to the plush red carpet. When she lay sprawled beneath him, moaning in kiss-dominated submission, he rose shakily to his elbows to stare down at her flushed face.

  “I wasn’t joking about your beauty,” he croaked. “If I don’t turn down the lamp now, I don’t think I can hold back long enough to make love to both our satisfaction.”

  Smiling tenderly, she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull his face close to hers. “Remember my first morning as your valet, how I found you aroused and thrashing with desire in your sleep? Since then, I’ve dreamed of seeing you like that again, only writhing in response to my touch instead of to a dream.”

  Pressing her forehead to his to capture his gaze, she implored, “Make my dream come true. I can think of no greater satisfaction than watching your body respond to my touch and seeing the look in your eyes as you find your pleasure.”

  Inflamed as much by her words as by her nearness, Seth pulled from her embrace to straddle her hips. Knowing that he was probably going to regret his words, yet powerless to resist her sweetly whispered plea, he said, “Very well, my lovely reliever. The lamp stays lit, but only if you agree to let me pleasure you first.”

  “The lustee wants to bargain does he?” Penelope purred, running her finger across the flesh abutting his waistband.

  A gasp exploded from Seth at the resulting shock of erotic sensation. Sucking in a labored breath, he pulled her hand away and pinned it to her side. “It’s a lustee’s privilege to negotiate the terms of his relieving. Especially if he’s in love with his reliever and wants to assure her sexual satisfaction.”

  “And the terms?”

  “Are that you promise not touch me in an inflammatory manner, which includes no rubbing up against my male parts, until after I’ve given you your woman’s pleasure. I will not take my release until I’ve given you yours first.”

  She slanted him a seductive look. “And then you’ll allow me to do my duty as a reliever?”

  He nodded.

  “Then, what choice do I have? If I don’t agree, you might drive yourself mad by foolishly prolonging your lust. And since I’m not about to allow you to do that”—she stretched her arms above her head in voluptuous surrender—“I give myself over to your sensual ministrations.”

  Chapter 23

  Seth gazed down at the temptress beneath him, uncertain for the first time in his two decades of sexual experience how to proceed. Never had a woman aroused him as Penelope did, never had he been so anxious to please. What if, for all his best efforts, he failed to satisfy her?

  Stop it! his heart commanded. You’ve never failed before and you’re not going to now. Don’t you remember the times you loved her? How naturally she responded to your touch? You love her and she you. Let that be your guide, and you won’t go wrong.

  Trusting in his heart’s wisdom, he leaned down and gently kissed Penelope’s slightly parted lips. “Do you know how much I adore you?” he asked, his fingers finding and releasing the fastenings at the front of her corset.

  She reached up to stroke the long line of his back. “If it’s even half as much as I adore you, then it’s a great deal.”

  He moaned and pushed her arms back to her side. “Don’t!”

  “Our deal specified that I not touch you in an inflammatory manner, and I’m not,” she said, lifting her arms again.

  Gently, but firmly, he wrestled them back to the carpet. “Sweetheart, your every touch inflames me. So unless you want to breach our agreement, in which case we turn down the lamp and grope blindly in the dark, I suggest that you just lie still.”

  It was Penelope’s turn to moan. Didn’t the blasted man know that she found his body as irresistible as he did hers? That she couldn’t help touching him? And the smell of him …

  She closed her eyes and inhaled as Seth bent near. A heady fusion of heated male flesh and spicy soap assailed her nostrils, robbing her of all awareness but that of wanting him; a sensation that deepened as he finished removing her clothes.

  His touch was gentle, almost caressing as he drew off her undergarments; his lips soft and worshipful as he kissed each newly exposed area. So sensual were his ministrations that by the time she lay completely naked, her body was charged with an excitement that was both shocking and pleasurable.

  Breathless with expectation, she waited for Seth to transport her to the next level of passion. But to her squirming dismay, he sat back on his haunches and simply looked at her.

  Taut seconds stretched like hours as he surveyed her. Just when she was sure she could bear the anticipation no longer, he reached down and lightly trailed one finger down her torso.

  Electrified, she arched up, crying her pleasure. Smiling in a way she found indecently thrilling, he slowly retraced his tingling path, meandering upward until he reached the base of her breast. Then his hand stilled.

  Aching to be fondled, Penelope begged, “Seth … please.”

  “Please … what?” he purred, his tone provocatively baiting.

  She rubbed against his hand. “Please … touch me.”

  He chuckled. “What’s this? The reliever succumbing to the carnal wiles of her lustee?” As if testing his theory, Seth ran an experimental finger up through the cleft between her breasts.

  She whimpered and jerked in positive response.

  “Aha! As I suspected.” His grin grew very wicked. “There’s a penalty for such weakness,” he said, drawing rings around one breast, circling nearer and nearer to the hardened peak.

  “Penalty?” she managed to grasp, writhing in a desperate attempt to propel his hand to her aching nipple.

  Deliberately ignoring her efforts, he stopped just short of the rosy border to explain. “When a reliever falls victim to passion while in the line of duty, she is required to endure whatever amorous punishment the lustee deems appropriate.”

  “Which is?” she groaned.

  He stared at the stiffened crest less than an inch from his finger as he seemed to consider. Finally he replied, “I think it only fitting that a weak-willed reliever be pushed to her libidinous limits, at which point she must beg for mercy. This will show her that she can endure more lust than she suspects, and she might not be so quick to surrender in the future.” With that decree, he traced the very edge of her puckered areola.

  The resulting sensation was almost more than she could bear. Her breath coming out in sharp, trembling sob
s, Penelope did as he demanded. “Please, Seth. I’m begging you.”

  “Tell me what you want,” he coaxed.

  Emitting a quivering moan, she seized his hand and pressed his fingers against the throbbing point. “Stroke me here.”

  “Like this?” he murmured, advancing to the center to capture the crest between his thumb and index finger.

  Her breath quickened at the contact, and she was unable to do more than mew her approval.

  Alternately stroking and tweaking, he teased her sensitive peaks, rousing her responses until they hit a fevered pitch. When she lay panting and thrashing, he replaced his fingers with his lips. Just when she was certain she would die from pleasure, he pulled away.

  “Seth,” she moaned, slitting her eyes open to peer imploringly up at him. “Please … more. I need …”

  “Oh, no, my wayward reliever,” he chided in an oddly strangled voice. He, too, was flushed and breathing hard. “It’s much too early in your discipline to grant clemency.”

  “But I ache so badly,” she protested, dragging his hand from his side back to her breast.

  Sensual fire flared in his eyes at her confession. “You ache do you? Hmm.” His hand skated from her breast, moving lower. “Shall I guess where?”

  Her only reply was a breathy sob. He was drawing tight, looping lines down her torso now; exciting, tickling manipulations that sent molten spurts of desire rushing through her veins. When he paused to tease her navel, her belly muscles convulsed with a violence that rocked her entire body.

  “Let me see, now. Where do you ache?” His hand rounded the contours of her belly, gliding down until it brushed the dark triangle of her intimate hair. “Am I getting warm?”

  “Hot,” she gasped, a searing ache exploding low in her belly. He dipped lower. “Very … h-hot.” Her thighs parted instinctively.

  Her panting breath now punctuated by moans, Penelope waited for him to reach her core, to stroke the pulsating bud of her need. With maddening leisure he inched nearer and nearer. Then he was at her nether lips. His touch delicate, he outlined the needful swollen edges, occasionally grazing yet not quite touching the moist, burning flesh within.

  Sobbing her torment, Penelope strained her legs apart, frantically thrusting her hips in a desperate attempt to guide his fingers to the fiery center.

  “Please, Seth,” she begged. “I can’t stand any more.”

  “Tell me what you want,” he purred.

  “Touch me,” she moaned. “I’m begging you.”

  “Where?” His fingers hovered just over her core.

  She reached down and crushed his hand against her. “Here. Touch me here … the way you used to.”

  Laying on his belly between her legs, he gently separated her passion slickened flesh and blew on her hardened bud.

  White-hot sensation streaked up through Penelope, sending another rush of moisture flowing to her already soaked womanhood. Bucking her hips impatiently, she wailed, “Seth … touch me!”

  Ducking his head, he examined her closer. “You’re beautiful down here.” He briefly touched her inflamed nub.

  She shrieked, her body jerking in savage response.

  Moving away to stroke her wet folds, he continued, “You’re like a newly unfurled rose with your soft pink petals open like this to expose your nectarous center.” She whimpered with exquisite shock as he returned his finger to her pulsating core.

  Over and over again he caressed her, sometimes with unbearable gentleness, others with a firmness that almost drove her over the edge. Just as she mounted the crest of her rapture, he pulled back, leaving her writhing in heated agony.

  For a moment he lay motionless between her legs, watching her feverish twisting, his labored breathing echoing hers. When her frantic gyrations had calmed a fraction, he inched his face nearer to the tormenting source of her need.

  Fixing her with a smoldering gaze over her womanly mound, he mused, “I wonder if your nectar, like that of a rose, is sweet to the tongue?” He eyed the object of his speculation thoughtfully. “Shall I sample it to find out?”

  Just the suggestion was enough to make Penelope moan. Taking that moan for the yes it was, Seth dipped his tongue into her scalding depths, tasting her deeply and intimately.

  Screaming her pleasure, she rocked against him, eager to accept every thrilling motion of his mouth. The sweeping sensation of his private kiss was everything she remembered and much, much more. Repeatedly he drove her to the edge, only to retreat and begin again. When her ache was so intense that she wept with need, he at last released her.

  Screaming at the rapturous violence of her climax, she shoved hard against his mouth, the stimulation of his tongue against her core heightening a hundredfold as spasm after powerful spasm jolted through her. Never had her climax been so intense, never had she felt so alive. And by the time the lingering bliss of the last contraction faded, she was certain she’d died and gone to heaven.

  As Penelope lay in the aftermath, too glutted with contentment to move, she murmured, “That was …” but words failed her. How could she possibly describe what she’d just felt?

  Grinning, Seth covered her body with his, drawing her into his embrace. “Learned your lesson, did you?”

  She slanted him a wicked look. “For the moment, yes. But I’m certain I’ll need frequent refresher courses.”

  He leered back. “Which I always stand ready to provide.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” She grasped his taut buttocks and gave the bulge in his trousers a significant rub with her pelvis.

  His breath exploded from his chest in a moan. “Don’t, sweetheart! I can’t—” he choked, frantically trying to squirm away.

  She tightened her grip on his backside, stopping him. “A deal is a deal,” she reminded him. “I kept my end of the bargain. Now I expect you to do the same.”

  Without waiting for his reply, Penelope shoved her small body against his powerful one, pushing him until he rolled helplessly over onto his back. On top now, she straddled his hips. Eyeing his magnificent body with lascivious intent, she laid her palm over his erection, scolding,

  “Careless man! You’re so aroused I can feel you throbbing all the way through your trousers. Now unless you want to further endanger your sanity, I suggest we relieve you immediately.”

  Seth snatched her hand from his hardness, his pink flushed face darkening to a hectic red. “Not … yet. I need … just give me a few minutes to”—he sucked in a whistling breath between his gritted teeth—“compose myself.”

  “Compose yourself? But why? I’m going to relieve you.”

  He closed his eyes, his face twisting in a way that perfectly conveyed his discomfort. “Because I’ve yearned for this moment for over two years, and I don’t want to ruin it by losing myself the second you open my trousers.”

  Penelope stared down at him in amazement. “Are you really that close? I mean, I haven’t even touched your ‘thing’ yet.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s been so long since I’ve had sexual relations, that the mere idea of having it fondled is almost enough to drive me over the edge.”

  “A long time?” She shook her head skeptically. “But what about that saloon girl I found you with your first night here?”

  His flush deepened to burgundy. “Nothing happened. I just led you to believe it had. I wanted you to think that I was a heartless bastard and that I no longer cared for you.”

  “But—”

  “Oh, at first I intended to make love to her,” he admitted, deaf to her interruption. “I was desperate to spend my lust so I wouldn’t get aroused every time I looked at you. But I couldn’t do it. All I could think of was you”—he turned his head away, as if ashamed—“and I simply couldn’t get excited enough over her to do anything. In truth, I haven’t been able to bring myself to have relations since I fell in love with you.”

  Penelope was speechless. Never had Seth done or said anything that touched or pleased her as much as this softly
uttered confession. That he loved her so much as to deprive himself in such a manner was more than she’d ever dared to believe possible. When she finally spoke, her voice was as strangled as his. “You haven’t had relations since our last time in New York?”

  He nodded, his cheek still pressed against the carpet. “Nor did I have any for almost two years prior to our engagement.”

  “Two years before?” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

  “Remember the ball your brother gave the night before you left for your first musical tour?”

  “Of course. How could I forget an occasion like that?”

  “It was then that I realized I loved you. From that point on, aside from the three times we were together, I’ve been celibate. Before our engagement, I forwent relations out of respect for my feelings for you. Afterward it was because no other woman could measure up to you.”

  Tenderness swelled in Penelope’s chest, making it difficult to draw a breath. Never in a million years had she expected to find a man who would love her so completely. Especially not an extraordinary one like Seth Tyler.

  Resisting her almost overwhelming urge to take him in her arms and demonstrate the depth of her emotion, she lay her hand against his cheek, murmuring, “No wonder your control is so frayed. It’s a miracle you’ve managed as well as you have.”

  “After waiting and wishing for so long, I want our lovemaking to be perfect. I want to hold you and hear your cries of pleasure as we find our release together.” He implored her with his eyes. “But I won’t be able to last long enough to do that if you don’t give me a few minutes to regain my control.”

  Penelope pressed a kiss to his lips, then crawled off him. “I won’t touch you again until you say you’re ready.”

  For a long while they simply lay there sharing dreams for their future; he on his back with his head pillowed on his folded arms; she on her belly beside him, her chin propped up on her hands. As they were deciding how to furnish the still empty mansion he had built for them in San Francisco, Seth announced, “I’m ready to continue now, provided you take it easy on me.”