by Gayle Eden
She was so stirred and aroused by watching their hands, she was not quite ready to stop, but he pulled back.
Shaking his hair back from his eyes, Sascha found himself shivering when she started touching him elsewhere. He invited her to do it, easing her hands over his hipbones and gliding them over his tight buttocks, then up to his spine.
He intended to focus on her entirely, but she leaned forward and that mouth, that pink tongue, started tonguing his nipples.
Cupping her soft backside, he leaned back and let her play there, until the muscles underneath were strained and every vein in his sinewy body was flushed, full, racing with heart pumping blood.
To distract her, he dipped his head and kissed her, erotic, deep, explicit, their hold on each other tightened, bodies skin to skin, with hearts pounding and arousal flaming.
Lifting her off her feet, he walked to the mattress with her hands tangled in his hair, her nipples rubbing across his own.
Putting a knee down, Sascha lay her on the covers. Raising enough to view her there, burgundy hair spread out and mussed, her rose and cream body feminine and sexual in those stockings. Her eyes were like wet emerald stones from the sexual fever in her blood.
Jo opened her legs to him.
He wanted nothing more than to plunge inside, to have her wrap them around him and to ease the painful fullness of his sex.
Teeth set hard and muscles jumping in his cheek, it was his fantasy to be driving into that wet silk. However, Sascha reminded himself of the goal, the ultimate.
Spreading her legs wide, he dipped down and thrust his tongue in her. His moan at her scent and taste saying it all. His thighs quivered a little for the urgency to have his cock in her too. He ate her sexually, with all the raw lusty intensity in his own body.
She was panting, moaning and arching slightly. He suckled between the lips, thrust in his tongue and pulled it back to tease between the globes of her backside. Doing it repeatedly, loving every gasp that echoed inside the cottage.
When she groaned low, “Sascha…please.” He felt a euphoric sense sexual power and lust.
Rising, he kissed her, laughing sexily and low when her hands pulled his hair impatiently, her trembling thighs rubbing his, reaching for what her body wanted.
Kissing her until her mouth was tender; he raised his head again and brought her backside closer to his thighs. He rubbed the head of his sex teasingly at her entry. Her pants loud, Sascha switched his gaze on her face, because if he watched himself enter, there would be no pulling out. He would blow in seconds.
It was torture. It was bliss. It was maddening, Jo thought wildly. Her skin dewed, her gaze on his, able to see his tight features and sense he was carnally teasing her. He moved his hips and gave her the crown, but did not thrust. Then, slowly dipped inside, a mere inch or two—until her teeth bore down on her lip.
Eventually Sascha had half the length inside her sex, his head bowed, and brow damp, everything in him screaming to thrust. She was tight and contracting, and though slick, he felt with each inch, her body needed to adjust. He did not want her to lose the pleasure yet.
“Sascha! My God,” Jo finally cried out. Her legs shaking, she arched her neck, almost sobbing. “Please.”
He pulled out and then bridged over her. Cupping her flushed face, Sascha looked into her feverish eyes. “I’ll have to put on the condom when we do this in earnest, love—”
“In earnest? Oh. Mercy. What are you waiting for?” she panted.
He laughed, though strained, “I’m not going to last long enough to make it count.” He sat up and brought her to a sitting position. “That’s a lot of preparation I don’t want to be doing, right off. We’ll get to it.”
“I want you,” she said through her teeth.
Her words nearly undid him. She looked wild, hungry and feverish, with skin flushed, eyes glittering, and mouth swollen.
“You’ll have me. More than you can stand,” he growled lustfully. Laying her back, Sascha began to tongue her, adding his finger to the play and laving that nub until she groaned deep, stilled, shuddered, gasping and moaning in an extended climax.
Eyes opened, still panting, Jo blinked at him through her haze of pleasure. She pushed up though, and grabbed him by the hair, kissed him wildly and husked, “I bloody want it all and soon.”
He said through his own grit teethed control. “You’ll get it.” Christ, Sascha thought, with his heart pounding and blood pumping to his cock, he had known she would demand her own, and that was half the fantasy, but in reality, she was seconds from making his control snap.
Jo got to her knees and since he was on his, she caressed his sex. “Show me how to help you feel that.”
He moved her hand on him.
When Jo was stroking him, she leaned forward to lave his nipples. Sascha grit a few explicit words she could not make out. Jo was enjoying tasting his skin, doing such a sexual thing to him. God, but he was such a hard and masculine man. Nude, he was virile and had that male animal aura about him that something in her responded to. No gentleman now, if he ever was one, he was making her mad for him.
Sascha’s fist covered her own. He nudged her back so that when his seed pumped out, it bathed her thigh. He sat heavily back when done, then recline as if spent. “That’s been building for months.”
She arose and got a cloth to clean them both. Done with that, Jo noticed the sunset was long gone. She lit one of the candles.
Sascha’s hand caressed her backside whist she leaned over. He stirred finally, refilling their glasses and sitting half up, forearm on his thigh whilst he eyed Jo, who had reclined a bit on her elbows. She had stuck a piece of chocolate in her mouth. His gaze was glued to it until the confection was consumed.
“I want to see them.”
“What?” He jerked his eyes up.
“The condoms.”
He half laughed and shook his head, then leaned and set his glass down, going to the other room and getting the satchel he had stored there. He set the tin of Con's 'preservatives' by her and opened it. Then he set back and watched her take one out, rub it between her fingers. She played with the ribbon, before putting it back. It aroused him.
Jo leaned up then; to see what else he brought in that satchel. She found a vial of liquid and examined it interestingly.
Sascha took it and held it over the flame a moment then uncorked it, pouring a bit on his finger. She bit her lip as he rubbed it between her legs.
“Makes the entry smoother.”
“How pleasant.” She agreed.
Smiling, he capped it and allowed her to look at his body, as she was doing openly sitting there, whilst he said, “There’s a shop, in Half Moon Street, some ladies frequent it. We will go there, if you like. They sell all sorts of ….widow’s comforts, I believe they are called.”
“What’s—”
“Phalluses of leather, ivory, glass, all sorts. You pleasure yourself with them, or two can play…there are other toys, and restraints….some for fetishes. Everything you can imagine.”
“I would.” Her eyes danced. “I can’t wait to go. I have seen quite a few things…My first foray into London; I met a chap who took me to a house that men and women rented by the room. They indulged their…fantasies there. Some the women were dressed like men, too. I rather thought the spa was the most interesting chamber.”
“I assumed rightly, that you were curious. There is no question that we can satisfy each other, but enhancing pleasure is something I think you will enjoy.” He finished his wine and leaned over her, forcing her back and kissing her. “For now however…” Kissing her passionately, Sascha then began to touch and caress her.
He moved from her mouth and spent delicious moments suckling her breasts, tonguing and raking his teeth over her nipples, while her hands stroked his hair and back. When he was fully hard again, she participated in sheathing him, and with the warm oil, he went inches deeper this time, his body over hers, her hands grasping his hips.
Looking downward when she arched her head back, he managed, “hurt?”
“No. just…full.” She raked her teeth over her lip.
He knew then, that she had not fully made love with Auvary.
He started moving, slowly at first, easy thrusts, but she moaned and soon arched up into them. He warned in a low growl, “Tell me if I hurt you,” but Christ his cock was squeezed and milked in hot velvet, and she was biting his neck, his chest.
Sascha groaned. She was too hot and aroused, too spirited a woman to play passive long.
Panting, breathing roughly, Sascha rode her with a dreamlike, out of his head, pleasure, stopping only to kiss her, and then stretching over her again, thrusting and thrusting.
Jo panted, “Yes. Yes.” Finding the primal act indeed fervent, in an erotic way. With Sascha’s thighs flexing against her, his sex gliding inside of her, and his scent, his dewy skin, the dark masculine breathing—it was wonderful, maddeningly glorious.
Slowing, Sascha turned on his side to catch his rasping breath, lifting her leg over his hip, high, so he could still trust. He pushed her hair back from her flushed face, relishing the pleasure he saw there.
“You feel incredible. Hot, snug.”
“I like this. I like you inside me.” She grabbed his hand and bit it.
He found that sexy. He found her sensual. Those eyes were darker green, those spiral curls were clinging to her flushed skin. Her body was sensual, her sex warm, sleek, eager.
Turning her on her back again, he finished with deep thrusts and grinding moves that got her to a point of near screams.
Jo grasped him, bucked, grinded back on him. She matched him and took what she wanted, giving what he needed.
Christ. Christ, his orgasm raced through him. Sascha explode so intense he saw stars.
* * * *
Lying propped on his side, Sascha watched Jo sleep by candlelight. Shadows played over the cottage walls and sounds from the ball filtered through the windows. He had covered her with his shirt and she lay curled a bit toward him, cheek cushioned by her hand.
Even in sleep Johanna did not look the innocent, he thought amused. She looked womanly, handsome, and vivid.
Now that the initial intimacy had happened, he could plan exciting encounters for them. He had wanted to make sure there would be no pain and discomfort. He had wanted to assure himself she would let go and be pleasured, and that she lost her inhibitions during sex.
There were things he would get aroused dreaming of doing with—and to her.
He would invite her to his estate, even though he really did not want her to view it in the shape it was in. It was not a large property, certainly not comparable to Hawksmoor. He still knew he would have to let her see what his world was, its lack, and its substance.
It was not an easy thing to do. What he was building one could not see the fruits of yet, and money would be required to sustain the estate, and make those repairs. It was not impressive. It was all a gamble too. His last game of chance was winning Johanna’s heart—forever. First—he wanted to seal their lovers’ bond. He wanted to excite her as no man had. Just thinking of that, excited him.
Letting his gaze trace her face, her smooth shoulder, her curved hip, Sascha wanted inside her again. He wanted to part her creamy thighs, pet her curls, and kiss her most sensitive skin. He ran his tongue over his lips and rolled them together, his blood humming and heart in a steady and deep pound.
He wanted to take her, rough, gentle, lustful, tender…to know every sigh, move, and expression.
* * * *
Jo kept her eyes closed long after she felt him gently roll her over to her back, and part her legs. She absorbed the soft feel of his lover’s lips gently kissing her sex, then the warm liquid of his tongue licking her there. Not until the tension coiled and grew, did she open her eyes and reach down, stroking his hair.
When he peeked up at her, her heart did a double beat at the sheen of his light eyes, luminous in the candle glow. He raised his head, laved his sensual lips sexily and used his fingers to stroke her.
His rhythm was steady and firm, and in moments, she climaxed with an arch of her back, a shudder running through her body.
Jo sighed and rose, kissing him before he fashioned the condom on. He pulled her onto his hard shaft. Hands on her waist, they shared a tight, intense few moments of rocking and undulating.
“Christ. I can’t believe…” was all Sascha got out before he was climaxing too.
She loved it. Sitting on his thighs, Jo was able to see how the pleasure rolled through him, and how his skin flushed, how raw and sexual he looked.
He wanted to hold her afterwards, and Jo let him, relaxing her softness against the warm power of his frame. She tried to make nothing of his stroking her hair. However, inside, in that secret place, she would ignore come daylight; it touched all her tender spots and tempted her where she would not go.
Eventually they had to rise and dress. Johanna re-pined her hair afterwards. She sat at the scrubbed table watching him undo all the lovely romantic décor, erasing evidence, that it had been used as a lovers trysting place.
In truth, it had been perfect, the cottage, the flowers, the intimacy, everything. A voice whispered, that he had done all of that for her. He had prepared. He had wanted it right for her.
She stood and walked to the door, opening it to the night air and letting it cool her head. Do not make it more than it is. Now you know, you will be good lovers. You will never regret this. Do not do what you told him not to, and make it more than it is.
“Ready?” Sascha appeared beside her.
She nodded. She could stay here forever.
They were walking down the path, ever closer to the rowdy guests, who were apparently chasing each other through a hedge maze. The moon was up, shadows of clouds passing over it on and off. By the iron gates, Jo paused, her hood up but well able to see him, and he likewise.
He cupped her face, kissed her tender mouth. In her ear he murmured, “Send me a note of your schedule.”
“I will. Although, I decline and accept more on mood than any feeling of obligation.”
“I know.”
His arms went round her tight a moment. What was supposed to be a final kiss, turned hotter when he bit her neck, his strong hands feeling her body under the cape.
“This is…”
“Yes,” he agreed roughly, suddenly afire for her.
Her kissing him back, aggressive and hungry, did not help. Breathing sharp, quick, the hunger took Johanna by as much surprise as it did him.
She heard him mutter, “I’ll take care of things,” before she found herself led to the dark wall and turned. Her cape and skirts up, her backside exposed, there was hot breathing and her long moan, his groan—before he was inside her.
His scorching sex glided in easily thanks to her own arousal. However, staying silent was impossible.
He thrust into her, upwards, deep, and repeatedly. Her cries were passionate, hands grasping the wall and body absorbing the primal pleasure hungrily.
Quick, tight, intense, it seemed a shock when he cursed and pulled out, and then his warm seed bathed the outside of her buttocks. She was still breathing arduous when he cleaned them up with his handkerchief.
Turning, she fell back against the wall. Gazing at him as he braced his palm beside her shoulders, Jo saw him breathing roughly too.
“I have the scent of you on me,” he told her in deep tones. “And you smell of me.”
“I know.” She laughed softly. “I need a bath.”
He sighed, took another kiss and then had her hand in his as they left to find a hack. “Any more images of you nude in my head, and I’ll never see you home.”
Chapter Seven
Sascha arose from his chair at the coffeehouse, surprised to see Edmund coming toward him.
“I didn’t know you were back.” Sascha shook his hand smiling, noting how good his friend looked.
Edmund was looking over
him too. “I wouldn’t have recognized you. You have changed, ole boy. Aged and matured.”
Laughing, Sascha offered him a seat.
“Can’t stay. Just wanted to hunt you down and invite you to dine with us tonight. We are doing just family and friends. Alexandria’s family has not spent time with our son. And well, I get to boast and brag a bit.”
“Fatherhood seems to suit you as well as marriage.” Sascha paid his tab and walked out to the street where Edmund’s coach waited.
The earl’s tawny eyes, normally cool and aloof in public, could not help but reveal his contentment to his friend. He actually smiled after ducking into the coach and closing the door, his hand on the ledge. “I sometimes ask myself what my life would be like if my countess had not seduced me all those years ago. I shudder to think of what I would have missed.”
“You’re very fortunate.”
Edmund nodded. His eyes were measuring the changes on Sascha, and Auttenburg knew it.
“The first rumor I heard on my return was of you and Johanna.”
Sascha shrugged and shook his head. “Between us, as friends, I confess we’ve entered an affair.”
Those tawny eyes held his. “I see.”
Aware of traffic on the street Sascha said, “We’ll talk. If not after dinner—then at the club.”
“Certainly. I’ll be at Jackson’s on Tuesday.” Before the coach pulled out Edmund murmured, “You look damned good, my friend. It is good to have you home.”
With a slight smile Sascha nodded, waving as the coach pulled away from the curb.
He walked to his hotel, absently nodding or aware of people, but mulling that he would see Johanna there, but so too would the Marquis and her cousin, likely Aric and his cousin, be there.
He figured with the countess Alexandria back, Hawksmoor would have Jo help plan his usual house party. He knew they would have to figure out how to get together amid it all. Only a month remained until the family would likely go to Hawksmoor. He would have to move his visit to his estate up a week. It bloody did not look good for lover’s tryst planning. He would have to improvise.