by Shirl Anders
As noble as he wanted to be in demanding that Joelle stay out of bringing The Order down, he could not. He could not take that away from her, even though it would likely put both of them in extreme harm’s way again. So, the entire point being that he could not say with confidence that either of them would make it out of this alive. He was not the type of man to delude himself. It was going to be dangerous, and while he could attempt to protect Joelle as much as possible, he was not a miracle worker.
Saxon angrily batted the tail end of a linen napkin sticking out over the edge of a table, then grimly he turned toward the fire. “And I will not take the chance of sending you pregnant into all of this!”
That was it, the final blow! It was the thing that he hesitated to put into words, while even becoming angry at Joelle for not thinking of it. However, he knew that his anger was really masking fear. His terror at the thought that he could lose Joelle, at the same time he did not try to stop her, but let her go along. He suddenly knew what women felt like, whom for ages watched their men go off to war.
“Put a brave face on it, man,” he muttered, adjusting the waterfall folds of his cravat. So, dressed to the nines and cloaked in evening attire that he considered dressed armor against Joelle’s sexual allure, he would put on a courageous face and live in hope for the future.
Then, Saxon heard the door opening across the room and behind him. He turned at the same moment, wondering why he did not hear his butler’s voice announcing Joelle’s arrival. Yet Joelle stood just inside the closed door. He started toward her, however her hand came up with the clear gesture that she wanted him to stop. His feet halted as he opened his mouth to speak. Yet just as before, Joelle raised a straight finger to her lips, making a shushing sound. He became aware that she still wore a deep red cloak, which was a stunning backdrop for the long waves of her richly toned black-cherry hair. It occurred to him that her hair was hanging free as his gaze traveled down the length of her cloaked body. It was unusual for her hair not to be caught upward in some style that women wore. His encompassing gaze ended its downward trail on her bare feet.
Immediate stimulation tingled in every fiber of his maleness. Bare feet, red painted toenails, and some type of gold anklet. That Joelle’s feet were bare coupled with her loose flowing hair told him something he’d not planned for was, “afoot.” That comprehension came one brief second before the red cloak sailed downward into a pool at Joelle’s feet.
Saxon resisted the urge to jerk his gaze upward to see the rest of what Joelle’s lovely bared feet promised. It was a tribute to his spying career and many intense undercover moments that he managed it all. What he did see were wisps of different colored silks floating around shapely ankles, encircled in gold bangles.
He was in trouble.
Saxon resolutely kept the small silver hook that replaced his missing hand at his side, even though he had the inclination to raise it and tug at his collar like a young man. His gaze stayed lowered as he cleared his throat, and asked in a restrained voice, “Joelle, what are you doing?”
The only answer came in a sound. The jingling of many thin metal objects in unison, then falling silent sharply. The sound so unusual, he lifted his gaze despite his effort not to. Dear Lord, he thought, with sexual awareness striking through his body, leaving instantaneous evidence arousing every nerve ending. It pooled with purpose in the eroticism of his mind, and the lust of his cock, while his gaze devoured Joelle’s attire.
Or lack thereof...
Really, he tried to think logically, it was the mystery of the delectable pieces of feminine shape that he could and could not see that were fermenting him. The bare cleavage of ripe breasts with rounded inner slopes revealed to tantalizing depths, but covered just shy of a nipple on each side. One side was barely veiled, with a single purple-colored gossamer scarf. The other breast was scantily clad in light blue sheerness.
That was the motif of the entire outfit. Skimpy! Whose origins he could barely guess, while his masculinity paid homage to whoever could be so generously creative on behalf of all men. His eyes moved from a naked and satin-smooth belly, to one rounded hip peeking through, and onto shapely shoulders, enticing feminine collarbone topped off with lush lips painted red and the kohl-shadowed eyes of pure allure.
How was he going to refuse the quite obvious intention of this? “Joelle, we have to talk!”
Joelle’s left hip rolled upward and stopped abruptly with the bangles adorning her lifting and jangling together, then falling silent with sharply cut stillness. Saxon watched Joelle’s back arching as she reached back and lifted a large quantity of her black-cherry colored hair above her head, while her sable eyes sparkled with seduction.
He raised his hand to her, in a half-hearted halting gesture. “No, really, Joelle. This is serious!”
With each single word that he spoke, Joelle’s hip rolled and the bangles sounded as she moved toward him. It was as though she spoke through her body to the bangles sound. No! No! No! No! To each word he tried. What could he do?
He backed up, and Joelle followed, speaking extraordinary and carnal things with her body until the back of his legs hit the settee by the fire. Transfixed, Saxon realized he’d never known a woman’s bare belly and hips could move with such overt and riveting male enslavement. He felt flushed and that almost embarrassed him, the part of him that could still think at all beneath the thralldom of Joelle’s lush and supple female body moving like sex.
Sex was the only way he could describe it. It was the most sexual thing he’d ever seen, and being in love with the woman performing it only exacerbated his seething inner reaction. Well, his visible outer reaction too. His cock was quite simply saluting the effort with hardened cheers. The buttons on his evening trousers were about to bust. It did not help matters that he’d been sexually denying himself for a long time.
So when Joelle stood two paces from him, shimming her breasts and belly, bangles ringing songs of lust into his ears, he only stood there, ogling her like a lecherous idiot, while she lifted the end of one scarf and placed it in his hand.
He noted that the scarf was crimson, and it had been covering the area between Joelle’s succulent thighs. But with his gaze so interested, he did not see Joelle’s hand raise to his chest. However, he felt the shove and unguardedly he fell, to end up sitting on the settee with the crimson scarf clutched into his fist, pulled free from Joelle’s scant attire.
His gaze filled with pussy, moving pussy, pussy eliciting erotic rhythms from the rolling and undulation of Joelle’s rounded hips. His heart literally pounded. He’d shaved Joelle’s pussy once at the forced behest of The Order. Be that as it may, all the dark luxurious curls had grown back. Now, he wanted to bury his face in her lavish muff. He wanted to find the crease with his tongue. Damnation, he wanted to plunge his fingers deep into her hot sheath, searing them with the juices she was effusing, readying for his cock. Saxon lifted his hook to his cravat and he tugged, pulling at it until the restrictive feeling around his throat eased, and it lay undone with his throat bare.
Joelle circled her hips, listening to the music of the bangles. She could slow it into seductive beckoning or hasten it into urgent tempos. Then she slowed, snaking her hips languidly as she lifted one bare foot to the arm rest of the settee, bending her knee as she surged her hips in slow motion. She had never done a dance this outwardly raw and sexual before, exposing her sex, even lifting her leg to reveal where the puffy lips could be seen.
She watched Saxon’s gaze attach to this display like a hunter. A sexual hunter. A mating stalker and exactly what she wanted! She could feel the excitement of attracting him thrum deep into her sex, building. After this extravagant overture, if Saxon did not grasp another scarf soon and start unwrapping her, she was going to thwack him. Just like her animated mother use to do to her, “full-of-life father,” to get his attention going into her prescribed direction.
Saxon appeared ensnared, with an aura of enormous restraint stretching him to the snapp
ing point, but to her vexation, he did not snap. He looked like a proud and virile male predator, with his long mane of maple-colored hair flowing unbound down his back and his brown eyes showing mahogany tinted flames. She could see he lusted ... tremendously, and it tensed his body and stilled him to chiseled male. Yet, he would not leap, even as she turned her back to him and bent forward slightly shimming her barely concealed buttocks at him.
Spirits! He was so stubborn, nearly as stubborn as she was. “Saxon Hartley if you do not take another scarf off me this instant, I’m going to walk out of here and never return!” she threatened brashly, as she shook her head with emphasis. Her hair came tumbling down in front of her as she bent forward and looked over her shoulder at him.
Her words leaped the sparking fires in Saxon’s irises up to her gaze. She felt his restraint nearly snap and it seemed that he barely caught it back. The feeling of that bridled ardor flushed her arousal with poignant throbs building steadily in her sex.
“I will not take the chance of impregnating you! Not now. We cannot!” Saxon expelled through lips she could see were drawn tight.
At the same moment she exclaimed, “This is why you refuse to make love with me?” Joelle stopped her dance movements, straightening and turning to face Saxon with her hands braced on her hips. She might thwack him yet!
“I do not refuse you!” he said, in the first angry voice she could remember him using on her. That was besides the first time after they were initially kidnapped, and she’d basically raped him to destroy her virginity, which The Order coveted. “I deny us, as I think you would do also!”
That struck Joelle a little too close to sounding condescending and as if she was not intelligent enough to have thought about this. Truth was, she had not. However, she adamantly thought the cause was her lusty Gypsy blood, not her intelligence. Desire had simply distracted her.
How dare he! “Oh such a great master spy, and you cannot even figure out that we do not have to have intercourse to make love and fulfill each other!” she cried, with a touch of anger.
Suddenly, Saxon rose. One moment he was seated and the next he was in front of her. Her hands lifted from her hips as though she would steady herself in the same instant Saxon crushed her within his embrace. His lips descended, just as she lifted hers upward to exclaim at him. Their mouths collided. The kiss he wrought devastated her senses and magnified her desire. The kiss was not the gentle promise of more courting, but the lusty surety of sex.
Only now, she was angry and overturned and she pushed on his chest, tugging her lips from his. “No! I do not want this. I’m not sure!” Joelle even thought to herself that she sounded like a petulant child.
“Joelle, Joelle.” Saxon wrapped her weak struggles into his embrace as his hands smoothed warmly on the sides of her bare waist. “I have no excuse, but that I was trying to do the best for us.”
“Oh,” Joelle uttered with drawn out vowels of reluctant understanding, while worrying her nose and mouth over the base of Saxon’s throat. He was sincere. She knew he was. “We need to open up more. Talk more.” She pushed back and looked up into Saxon’s rich mahogany eyes.
“Yes we do, Firefly. This time I was just afraid to admit to myself my fears, until I looked closely.”
“Oh, Saxon, I did not even think of it, and you are right, I should have. We should have!”
“Well we complement each other, Lady Firefly, because I never thought of your, quite erotic might I add, solution.”
Joelle grinned with impish fire in her dark eyes. “What I want to know is if it is possible to do it to each other at the same time? There must be a... Oh!” Joelle squealed as Saxon lifted her upward, then with a sort of dancing tumble, they ended on the settee with her on the bottom and his strong body blanketing hers.
“We will have to experiment,” he said from above her. His arms held her arms clinched inward, which pressed her breasts together. Looking down, they looked like two big mounds ready to pop. There was her cleavage finally. Saxon looked down at it and purred a male sound of pure approval as he swayed from side to side moving her over-plump cleavage with him as he watched.
His long hair fell all around them. She certainly had his interest now. All masculine interest and he was going to culminate this time. Joelle could feel where Saxon’s very ridged cock lay, the impression from as far at the bottom of her sex as it could go, upward past her belly button. There ending where she was surprised to feel the head bared against her bare belly. It was hot and fat feeling, with something wet drizzling on her skin. It must be so hard and long, it had grown out of the waistband on Saxon’s trousers, she realized.
That set her to more sensual quivering as Saxon slid his body lower and with his teeth, he grasped the scarf over her right breast. Her mind was split with sensations. On one hand, she was aware of the head of Saxon’s exposed penis, now lowered into the crease of her sex, rubbing more arousing heat, and on the other hand, Saxon tugging free the scarf over her breast, baring it with his teeth. His lips followed closely on the removal of the scarf to kiss her breast, then nip, then lick.
“Ooh, love,” she moaned, arching her back to raise her breast into the heat of his mouth as she grasped his buttocks and used this leverage to grind her sex against the head of his cock.
She was not certain that she could last through Saxon’s determined and slow sensual tortures. She had withheld her desire for so long, along with bringing it to teasing peaks just in Saxon’s company so often without repletion, so that now, the urgency for release was consuming her body.
Saxon suckled Joelle’s nipple tip to a tight peak, feeling it prod against his tongue, as she moaned, “Please, Saxon, we will go as slow as dripping honey next time. This time I cannot wait. I cannot!”
Joelle’s nipple point left his mouth to stand turgid and wet as he raised his gaze to the dark urgent need in Joelle’s eyes. Then suddenly, she shoved on his chest, with a great amount of force for such a little package. He could have stalled his tumble, but he grinned instead, going with it, taking her with him as he landed on the floor on his back with her now on top of him.
One second later, Joelle had squirmed down his body and she had his engorged cock-head sunk into the heat of her mouth, snugging her lips tightly around it.
“Jesus!”
“Mm mm.” She licked eagerly on just the head, and he knew that she would never get the whole thing into her sweetly sucking mouth. He groaned, arching his hips and clutching masses of her hair, just the stimulation of her lips sucking rapidly over the head was so inducing that he felt the threat of ejaculation quickly rising in his cock. It was his enforced abstinence. It was his desire for Joelle. Whatever it was, he had trouble fighting it back and controlling it, when he rasped. “Turn around, Firefly love, let me taste your flame.”
Putting his mind on anything but Joelle’s lips drawing on the head of his penis, he was not certain she had heard him or understood what he wanted. However, he reached forward and bodily moved her where he wanted her. Joelle’s avidly drawing lips barely left their suctioning enthusiasm as he guided her to straddle his chest and he gazed at the luscious honey pot of her pussy. A cheer rose inside him as though he had scored the victory point in some sporting event. Hit the bull’s eye dead center.
This was a man’s nirvana. He had never experienced it in this fashion before, so earthy and lustily straddled over each other. It hit him that this was what love and relationship brought. Carnal, exotic, full-bodied adventure. He was so aroused that he forgot to undo his hook for safety purposes, but he managed to think enough to keep it to the side, as he lifted his head and touched his tongue to Joelle’s already drenched sweet pussy lips.
“Oh! Mm. Oh! Oh,” Joelle commended him with eager moans around the head of his penis as her lovely small ass quivered.
Her outer pussy lips were flushed and puffy, spreading to reveal the deep coral within, soused with her excitement. The heat coming from her pussy was humid and sweet. The scent filled hi
m, throbbing hard into his penis. He licked and kissed the outer lips, letting his tongue lave up the outside. Then, his tongue lapped back down the center, kissing and flicking as he went, until he rubbed against Joelle’s protruding clitoris.
“Oh!”
Her answering wriggling pressed this bud of ardor with enthusiasm onto his lashing tongue, as he lifted a finger to sink into the tunnel of her clenching heat. “Oh! Oh!”
Joelle’s ass rose upward as he followed with his tongue and more rapid lunging of his finger. Her mouth latched tighter over the head of his penis as her small hands climbed up and down the shaft. Her vigor bounced her tongue on the slit, sending shock-waves of bliss spiking through him. They curled inward toward each other. Their bodies seeking more divine pleasures as Joelle’s mouth lifted and lower over the top of his penis as fast as he coupled his finger inside her and played serious attentions to her clitoris.
He felt Joelle’s hair falling like feathered silk over his belly, his groin, and caressing his balls as he used the direction of his finger mating her clutching sheath to rock her clitoris against his swiftly frisking tongue. Her staccato cries grew shriller as her inner thighs clamped down around his head and he strained to hold back his ejaculation. He could feel the burn of intense pleasure moving up his shaft. He renewed his vigor on Joelle’s clitoris and vagina with sudden and needy inspiration proposing that he wrap his lips over Joelle’s clitoris and suck hard. Score!
Thank God, because he could no longer hold back, as Joelle writhed over him with her climax erupting. When he felt her juices leaching and her body contorting, with her pussy throbbing in his mouth, he relaxed the restraint he held on ejaculating. Then, he groaned with a suppressed roar into the sweet hot quivering lips of Joelle’s pussy.
Chapter Fourteen
Kit contained her teary and trembling reactions with wobbly restraint. It had not been easy to get away from Nick, to wrest herself from the hotel room and be on her way. The row she’d had with Nick, after Brynmore had deserted her, had been loud and abusive. However, she’d yelled as loud as Nick had, and finally managed to wrestle away. She felt certain after all the things she’d screamed at him that he would not be bothering her again. More likely, he would return home to lick his wounds and connive a way to declare her insane on paper or something equally as vile. Nothing was beyond Nick Ralston and his greed to get his hands on the Montoya fortune. If Clay was dead and her lawyer did not get the divorce through quickly, Nick just might manage it.