Wilde Novellas

by Janelle Dennison

  When he finally lifted the flower, the lavender petals glistened with her moisture. Plucking a petal, he let it flutter to her flat stomach. “She wants me… she wants me not,” he recited playfully as each satiny petal drifted to her skin, until the last one settled on her mound and he finished with, “She wants me.”

  He splayed his hand on her belly and rubbed the fragrant petals over her skin, then leisurely moved upward to knead each breast. “Do you want me?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She moaned raggedly, and bit her bottom lip when he rolled an erect nipple between his fingers.

  “I assure you, the feeling is mutual, but I’m not through playing yet.” Unclasping the pearls from around her neck, he followed the same path he’d just taken with the rose, rolling the beads around her breasts and over her hard, straining nipples. “Do you like the way that feels?”

  She nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

  He dragged the gleaming pearls over her soft belly. “Do you want more?”

  Her hips lifted in an intimate dance of desire and need. “Yes. Please.”

  “So polite.” He let the pearls slither over her stomach and arranged a strand so it fell between her parted thighs and teased her plump outer lips with the slightest movement she made. “No need to be proper, love, because I’ll give you anything you want, and more, if you’ll let me.”

  “Yes.” The word escaped on a croak, and she tried again, “Yes.”

  “Good girl.” Walking to the end of the bed, he moved up onto the mattress and knelt between her thighs. Hooking his fingers along the underside of her knees, he drew her legs up and lowered his head. At the first touch of his lips on her skin she groaned and quivered. He skimmed his open mouth up her thigh, making a trail of hot, damp kisses that had her writhing and the pearls he’d so artfully arranged flickering against her feminine folds. The scent of her arousal teased his nostrils, making him impossibly harder and thicker than he already was. Her passion pleased him and her response fired his blood.

  He upped the stakes on their game of fulfillment.

  Knowing what he was about to do would undoubtedly shock her, he moved up and over the length of her, buried one hand into her hair at the back of her head to hold her steady, and crushed his mouth to hers. Her lips parted on a gasp, and he slipped his tongue deep into the sweet recesses of her mouth. She kissed him back, matching the wet, silken glide of his tongue while his free hand skimmed down her body, found the pearls, and rolled the smooth beads along her soft, wet cleft.

  She tensed. With a confused whimper, she attempted to clamp her legs together. He was stronger, more determined, and he had the advantage since her hands were secured. Holding her legs spread with his thigh wedged between, and deepening his kisses, he gently pushed the pearls into her sheath, one by one. Her body bucked frantically beneath his and he swallowed her soft moans. The two strands were long, filling her until the clasp, and about a dozen pearls remained as a catch.

  She wrenched her mouth from his, panting. “What are you doing?” She yanked on the silk wrapped around her wrists and thrashed wildly. “This can’t be normal!”

  “Normal? Definitely not,” he agreed, plucking one, two, three pearls from her and watching her chest rise and fall and her nipples tighten. Lowering his head, he flicked his tongue along the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Sexy, naughty, and erotic, absolutely.”

  “Take them out,” she said primly, though there was an unmistakable quiver of excitement in her voice.

  “Oh, I will,” he promised, nuzzling her neck. “As soon as you admit you’re turned on, and that you like the way those silky pearls feel against your inner walls.”

  Her skin warmed with a full body blush, but her jaw clamped shut.

  He chuckled, amused by her stubborn display. “If you won’t admit it, then I guess it’s up to me to do my best to make sure that you are turned on.” He nipped her jaw and dragged his teeth along her throat, drawing a ragged groan from her.

  “That’s it, love,” he coaxed in a low, gentle tone as his hand charted a heated path along her shoulder, down her waist, and over her hip, stroking her and pulling the tension from her body. “Relax and let go…”

  He was grateful for her bound wrists, because it gave him the freedom to explore and take his time, and savor every inch of her without any interruptions. Slowly, he inched his way down, until his lips closed over a straining nipple. His hands shaped her breasts, and he suckled her strong and deep, his mouth and tongue inflicting sensations that had her softening, relaxing, melting.

  He settled between her thighs once again, using the width of his shoulders to keep her legs apart while his finger traced the lace panties framing her femininity. “So pretty,” he said, and dipped his head for a taste.

  At the first touch of his mouth on her mound she stiffened and attempted to move away, but he anchored his arms around her thighs and ruthlessly demanded her total surrender. He lapped at her leisurely, and spent an infinite amount of time pleasuring her, drinking in her honeyed essence, lost in the taste of her and reveling in her wispy sighs of total acquiescence. With every soft, slow stroke of his tongue, she slid deeper into his spell, and he into hers.

  He built her climax gradually, waiting until he had her on the precipice before he tugged on the pearls. The strand shimmered out, tickling, teasing, cajoling her sensitive flesh.

  “Oh, God,” she groaned, husky and deep. Her head rolled to the side, her hands clenched into fists, and with a low cry and a convulsive shudder she came, sobbing, begging him for more.

  He obliged. Another gentle tug and the last of the pearls spilled out of her. He played her exquisitely with his mouth and tongue, lifting her higher and letting her soar over the edge once more.

  He reared up, grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and sheathed his penis, needing her with a desperation that defied anything he’d ever felt or done before. Sliding the smooth tip of his shaft along her dewy, slick flesh, he eased over her body and drove into her, riding her hard and fast, his thrusts untamed and frenzied as he strained toward his own completion.

  His heart hammered in his chest, his frantic pulse matching the throbbing in his erection. His muscles grew taut, and his lips sought hers in a searing, openmouthed kiss, completely possessing her. Their tongues touched, tangled, as sweet and welcoming as the legs wrapping around his waist and holding him tight as his hips pistoned relentlessly against her, creating a hot, slick friction neither of them could deny.

  She wrenched her mouth from his and screamed as another orgasm ripped through her, her back arching up off the bed to take him even deeper. With one last powerful thrust he came on a wild, guttural groan. When the last of the pleasurable shudders were wrung from his body, he collapsed on top of her. Trembling and spent, he buried his face against her neck as he waited for his world to right itself again, though he was beginning to accept that his world, his life, would never be the same again.

  He was falling in love with Jill Richardson.

  Chapter Five

  Still blindfolded and tied up, Jill surfaced from the sensual haze enveloping her by slow degrees after sharing such an earth-shattering climax with Eric. Her body was still intimately joined with his, their skin damp with perspiration, and her senses drugged with the heat and musky scent of the man draped along the length of her.

  After long, silent moments passed, he finally stirred, lifting up enough to take the heaviest weight off her. Warm fingers tenderly brushed damp tendrils of hair away from her face, then he pressed his lips to her throat. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone rough with spent passion.

  His concern made her smile. Despite her earlier struggles, he’d been ruthless in his conquest, but infinitely gentle in his taking. She was certain he would have stopped at any time—if she’d really wanted him too. But she hadn’t, and he’d known.

  “I’m fine, but I think I’m ready for you to untie me.” She tugged on the silk binding her wrists, aching to touch him and explore hi
s body as thoroughly as he’d consumed hers. She didn’t question her total abandon, only knew it felt so good, so right with him. “And take the blindfold off, too, please.”

  He removed the sash covering her eyes, then worked on the knot that had tightened around her hands every time she’d pulled on the restraint. She lay there as he gently tended to her, and when the tie finally fell free, he brought her wrists to his mouth. Holding her gaze, he kissed the chafed skin, soothing it with his lips and the soft touch of his tongue.

  “Did you like what I did to you?” he asked, his warm breath fanning across the erratic pulse in her wrist.

  Another fire started within her, this one tiny, licking flames that ignited in her belly and spread outward. “It was… different.”

  An amused smiled curved his lips. “Yes, but did you like it?”

  She couldn’t deny the rippling effects those pearls had on her entire body. And she had to admit that she liked everything he’d done to her. Even the pearls. Especially the pearls—the way they’d filled her with a provocative heaviness, and how they’d slid out of her in a sensuous inner caress.

  “Yes,” she replied, giving him the answer she knew he was waiting for. “It was very erotic, and sexy.”

  His eyes turned a smoky shade of blue. “You’re sexy.”

  With him she felt beautiful, and yes, alluring. “Did you like it?” she asked tentatively.

  “Oh, yeah.” His gaze held hers steadily, and his expression changed, turned more serious. “I liked the way you ultimately trusted me and at the end gave yourself so openly. And I loved watching you unravel and come apart for me.”

  She swallowed hard. She’d never bared herself to a man in such an uninhibited way. Emotionally and physically, she’d held nothing back with Eric. Then again, he’d given her no choice, and she would have given him anything to experience the exquisite sensations he’d woven throughout her body. The thought was a little thrilling, and frightening.

  He stood up, went to the bathroom, and a few minutes later returned to the bed. He snuggled up behind her, pulled her back to his chest, and wrapped an arm around her waist. She couldn’t bring herself to resist his affectionate cuddling.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I really like your house,” he murmured into her ear.

  His intimate comment surprised her, especially since they’d never indulged in personal conversation after their fantasies.

  For that matter, he didn’t usually linger, either, but at the moment she didn’t want him to go, and she wasn’t ready for the warmth and closeness to end. Not just yet.

  “You haven’t seen much of the house,” she pointed out, a wry smile touching the corners of her mouth. “Just the master bedroom.”

  He laughed, the sexy sound vibrating along her spine. “I’ve seen enough to know the house is well cared for. It shows in this room with the floral wallpaper and matching pale shade of paint on the walls, and even the antique furniture. Your bedroom reveals a lot about you.”

  She tried to see her choice of decorating style through his eyes, and wondered what he’d learned about her. “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I do. I think you’re a romantic, and a bit old-fashioned, despite trying to be a tough cookie at work.”

  It shocked her that he’d been so observant during their sexual encounters, and equally perceptive when it came to her personality. And so accurate. They’d conducted a hot, illicit affair in this room and shared many carnal fantasies, yet he’d taken the time to discover more about her than just what turned her on in bed. She wasn’t sure what to make of that, nor was she ready to delve too deeply into why he’d paid so much attention to her surroundings and what they revealed about her.

  His hand idly stroked over her bare hip, soothing her from the inside out. “I’ve also been up close and personal with the landscaping while sneaking through the backyard,” he went on, humor infusing his voice. “They don’t build the kind of stone walls surrounding this house anymore, so I’m guessing the wall was constructed thirty or forty years ago. And most of the plants, shrubs, and trees look like they’ve been here a very long time and are well tended to. All that landscaping adds a lot to the character of the house.”

  She was amazed that once again he’d noticed so much more than superficial details. “My parents moved into this house when it was brand-new and before I was born. My mother loved to plant flowers and shrubs, so many are the original ones she planted. I used to help her when I was a little girl, and I still enjoy gardening.” That was more than she’d intended to reveal, but the words came easily with him.

  He buried his nose in her hair and she heard him take a deep breath of the fragrant strands. “So, the house belongs to your parents?” he asked.

  “Technically, it’s mine now.” She closed her eyes, her body pliant against his, and her mind just as mellow. “A few years ago they moved to Florida to live near my mother’s sister, and they put the house in my name. This place is all I’ve ever known and these walls hold a lot of fond memories for me. I hope to raise my own children in this house one day.” The secret she’d always held in her heart slipped out before she could stop the words, as if she were talking to a close friend rather than a man who was in her life for only a few more nights.

  He was quiet for a few moments, then said, “I can understand why it’s such a special place for you. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No. I’m an only child.” Feeling as though there was too much focus on her, she turned in his arms, glanced up at him, and put him in the spotlight instead. “What about you? Any siblings?” she asked, admittedly curious to know more about him, too.

  They were face-to-face, with his head resting on her spare pillow and his hair rumpled so enticingly around his head. He looked all male and as though he belonged there in her bed. His gaze held hers, warm and inviting, and the awareness between them increased. “I have two older brothers. There’s Steve, who’s a private detective, and then there’s Adrian, who the family has dubbed ‘The Wilde One’.”

  She laughed, amused by the cute play on words that included their last name. “I think the title fits you just as well.” She playfully poked him in the chest with a finger.

  He grabbed her hand and placed a lingering kiss in the center of her palm. “Not as much as it fits Adrian. Trust me, I’m tame in comparison.”

  She lifted a skeptical brow. After her firsthand experience with just how untamed Eric could be, she found that hard to believe.

  “Adrian has always been wild and reckless, and is always pulling crazy stunts and doing dangerous things.” His lips and tongue skimmed the pulse at the base of her wrist, then he flattened her hand on his chest. “He loves extreme sports and recently started up an extreme sporting event business. My parents swear Adrian is the reason they have so much gray hair.”

  She was all too aware of his rapidly beating heart, and struggled to keep their conversation light. “And you didn’t help to contribute to those gray hairs?”

  A wicked light shone in his eyes, matching the grin that appeared. “I might have been a bad boy a time or two, but I just never got caught like Adrian did.”

  She laughed, enjoying herself, and him. “Now that I believe.” She leaned down, meaning to give him a quick, frisky kiss on the lips, but as soon as her mouth touched his he slipped his fingers around the back of her head and held her in place for a deeper exploration.

  She expected something fast and frenzied, but he threw her off-kilter with a soft, unhurried kind of kiss filled with a languid sensuality and a hunger that went beyond the physical. His mouth made slow, sweet love to hers, his teeth nibbling, his tongue licking and seducing. She moaned and sank deeper into his sensuous embrace.

  Long minutes later, he ended the kiss and brushed his damp lips across her cheek, then settled her body against him again, spoon fashion. “Rest for a little bit,” he murmured.

  She felt his rigid shaft pressing against her bottom, and wondered why he didn�
��t just take her again and ease his arousal. Instead, his actions were selfless and tender. Intimate in a way that defied the physical “fantasy world” they’d agreed upon. Then again, so had their conversation about their families.

  Recognizing the subtle shift in their relationship, she swallowed hard, wishing she had the strength to tell him it was time for him to leave. But she couldn’t do it. She was quickly learning that Eric Wilde was one of her biggest weaknesses. While she reminded herself that there were only a few nights left before their affair was over, for the moment, in her mind, in her heart, she pretended they were more than temporary lovers.

  When she woke a few hours later and reached for Eric, he was gone. Abruptly, she sat up and glanced around the empty room, noticing that her French doors were closed. She found the silk stockings and sash he’d used to enhance their earlier fantasy, and she touched those items, remembering everything. The arousing scent of roses and the musky fragrance of sex filled her senses, evidence that he’d indeed been there tonight. She couldn’t stop the acute disappointment filling her, or the “what ifs” she didn’t have the answers for. A hot, memorable tryst with Eric was exactly what she wanted from him, and him from her. It was the only way it could be between them, she told herself for the umpteenth time, despite the fact that she was coming to realize that she was losing an integral part of her heart to Eric in the process.

  Four days and numerous fantasies later, Jill was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d somehow, some way, allowed Eric to become more than a fleeting plaything. Ever since the night with the pearls, he’d made a point of indulging in pillow talk after their fantasies, and seemed to draw things from her she’d never intended to share with him.