Succumb to Me

by Julia Keaton

  Her eyes flew open. She stifled a shriek to see Logan stepping into the tub with her. Immediate danger assailed her. Winter drew up her knees and locked her arms around her legs.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, strangling on the words.

  She couldn’t help but look at him as he settled into the giant tub with her. Every inch of his flesh was the same even toned bronze. Dark hair covered his calves and thighs, even his chest and an arrow of hair led a path straight to his groin.

  His manhood stood semi-erect and enormous, looking like a great beast had been unleashed and merely rested before striking the unwary.

  “You can’t be in here with me. It isn’t appropriate.”

  Logan barked a laugh. “And you bathing in front of me is?”

  “No,” she admitted, inching as far away from him as she could.

  “I told you I wished to bathe you. I did not say I did not also want a bath,” he said, then dipped under the water to wet his hair. His legs brushed against her hips, jolting her with sensation.

  When he came up, water ran in thick rivulets down his face and chest, riveting her gaze. She shouldn’t look at him like this, shouldn’t be in the tub with him. If anything, she should have escaped when he was beneath the water, but somehow, she knew that to try and leave would only provoke him into action.

  Logan Cordell was not a man to be played with.

  His eyes glittered hotly. “Come here,” he said, grabbing a sponge off the side table and soaking it in the water. “Give me your foot.”

  Reluctantly, she released the death grip she’d held on her knees and allowed him to take her foot in his hand. The moment his hand wrapped around the arch of her foot, he pulled her closer, resting her calf on his knee as he rubbed the sponge over the balls of her foot, her heel. He traveled up her calf, the inside of her knee, to her thigh.

  She stopped his hand from moving higher. “Do not,” she said, her voice strangely husky despite her best intentions to remain aloof from him.

  “And what would you do to stop me?” he asked, picking up her other foot to continue the cleaning.

  “I might scream,” Winter said, flinching as he rubbed the pads of her toes against the bristles of his chin.

  “There is no one here who would come to your aid. My servants are under strict instructions to not interrupt under any circumstance. Including your cries for help.”

  “You blackguard!” she said, giving a little shriek when he popped her big toe into his mouth.

  The moment he began suckling her toe, all thoughts of struggling fled from her mind. He nibbled the pad and swept his tongue around it, then moved to nibble her other toes and the ball of her foot.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, choking back a moan as he sucked her arch and his hands slid up her slick calves.

  “Pleasuring you? You do like it, do you not, Winter? You like my mouth on your flesh. You like my hands touching you in forbidden places,” he murmured huskily. He dropped her foot into the water with a splash, pulling her by her legs until she was face to face with him, her thighs around his hips, her woman’s center unbelievably exposed beneath the water.

  What would it take for him to close the gap and force himself inside her?

  Nothing, she realized. And she had no one here who would aid her in escape.

  His hairy thighs felt strange against her skin, foreign and forbidden.

  “I don’t like anything you do to me,” she grit out, keeping her arms tight around her chest as he drew her closer.

  His hands settled in the water around her hips. His thumbs rubbed the front of her hip bones, moving lower.

  “You lie, Winter. I can tell by the flush on your cheeks that I’ve affected you.”

  His thumbs rubbed lower still. She could feel him play with the edges of her pubic bone, toying with the fine hair that covered her sex. Her thighs tightened around his hips, vainly trying to keep him from further exploration.

  Winter bit her lip, struggling to break his hold and knowing it was useless. “It’s the heat of the water that causes my blush. Not you. I despise you and your touch. A lord you may be, but you are no gentleman.”

  He chuckled, dropping one hand to slip against her nether lips.

  She bucked in the water and he controlled her with his free hand, his eyes holding her gaze like a steel cage. “Stop that. Stop touching me as if you have the right.”

  “Oh, but I do. You made the bargain and gave your promise. You must fill your obligation or forfeit the painting and your reputation.”

  “You bastard,” she said through clenched teeth. Every nerve seemed strained, riveting down to the exploration of his fingers in her folds.

  He grunted and parted the petals of her sex, his fingers delving into a place she’d never even dared touch herself. “Miss Stevens, where are your manners?” he said with a chuckle. “I knew you were not immune to my touch—not as you wish you were. Do you like the roughness of my fingers as I touch you here?”

  He fingered the nub hidden by her folds. She vigorously shook her head.

  “I think you do. Do you know what this is?”

  Again, she shook her head. “It’s your clitoris. I like to call it your clit. Would you like me to play with it?”

  “Noooooo,” she cried. She released her breasts to grab his arms, digging her nails into his biceps.

  He ignored her and pinched the tiny bud without mercy. Blood rushed to the area, engorging her flesh in the hot water. Her heartbeat thudded between her legs, centering in a place that had never received stimulation.

  “I hate you,” she whispered, closing her eyes to his knowing gaze as he plucked and tortured her clitoris. She jerked against him. A moan tore from her throat when his head dipped and his kissed her collarbone.

  The situation was escalating out of control. She felt her fierce resistance to him slipping out of her reach.

  “Please,” she begged.

  He nibbled her collarbone, sweeping his tongue across her wet flesh as he evoked immense pleasure from her core. “Please what? Continue? How about if I touch you here?” he emphasized his question by rubbing his thumb across her clit and moving a finger to her tight hole.

  “My lord,” she said, choking on the words as he fingered the hole with a thick digit.

  He glided his free hand up her back, eliciting a myriad of sensations within her as he pressed her closer against him, until her breasts met his chest. His sun darkened skin made a heady contrast to her light, creamy skin. His dark eyes were heavy with sensual promise as his hunger rose inside. He lowered his heavy lashed lids halfway, looking drunk with passion.

  Her nipples pebbled under the unfamiliar sensation, the heavily muscled, rock hardness of his chest crushing against her.

  Was this the moment when she would lose her innocence? She could feel her virtue slipping away from her, and she was powerless to stop it.

  His fingers worked on her center as his closed his hand at the hair on the base of her skull. He tugged at her hair, arching her head back. She moaned at the erotic bite of pain along her scalp.

  “Would you give in to me, now?” he asked, heavy lidded, rubbing her sensuously.

  “No,” she whispered, continuing her resistance.

  “I could end your suffering and give us both great pleasure,” he murmured, pulling her hair harder, making her meet his eyes when she would have looked away in shame. “You cannot deny your response to me. How easy it would be to impale you. You would enjoy it, I promise.”

  “I would not,” she said, feeling the lie burn her throat.

  He moved his torturous hand to cup her backside and draw her that much closer to him. Her thighs spread impossibly far around him, until she could feel the hot hardness of his manhood teasing her slit. The moment that alien hardness parted her sex, she jolted in unbidden pleasure.

  Her mouth parted but no sound could escape. He took the opportunity to close the distance and his mouth crushed against hers.

 
; Savagely, his kissed her. Hungry, voracious and exciting. His tongue probed her mouth, raping her tongue and tasting every dark, hidden corner. He sparred with her tongue, drawing her into battle whether she wished it or not. She nipped at his tongue and he returned the bite with more force than she’d evoked.

  The threat of pain and pleasure was like a heady aphrodisiac. She felt drunk and light-headed, dizzy with passion.

  Whimpers escaped her throat like hurt little cries. He ignored her implorations, ravaging her mouth until she was gasping and weak and clinging to him.

  He tore from her mouth to nibble her lips and chin, the line of her jaw. He met the corner of her jaw and moved to her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and nipping the shell of her ear. “I confess I want to bite and lick every inch of you,” he whispered hotly into her ear.

  She shuddered, digging her nails into his arms as his member slipped enticingly in her folds, parting her with unerring accuracy.

  “I want you to ride my cock hard and not stop until we are both panting in ecstasy. You make me lose my mind when you whimper like that. When you resist my touch,” he murmured, then rubbed his lips over her ear.

  “Please, let me go. I cannot take this. Not now. I beg you,” she said, nearly crying with unfulfilled longing. She was terrified to give in to him, terrified of what would happen. As much as her body wanted him, she could not surrender without some fight.

  He sighed hotly against her ear. “So be it.”

  It took an effort for him to release her. He removed himself from the tub and got out, stepping onto the linen on the floor and grabbing another to dry himself off. Winter stood up from the tub, accepting the linens to dry herself off. She could not avert her gaze from the erection jutting out from the black thatch of hair on his groin. Just seeing how large and hard it was made a shiver course down her spine.

  “Do you like what you see?” he asked, rubbing his groin with the linen, watching her blush under his scrutiny.

  “I do not.”

  “You lie. Since you will not allow me to pleasure you, why don’t you come and pleasure me. Perhaps it will stave off the taking of your virginity for a while longer.”

  She swallowed, wrapping her hair into the linen to soak up the excess water in her hair. She regarded him suspiciously. “What would you have me do?”

  “Come, I will sit by the fire so your hair can dry.” He moved a chair to the fire and sat down in it, naked. He spread his legs and grabbed his shaft, stroking the length and watching her approach.

  Winter’s legs felt weak, unable to support her.

  “Get down on your knees, here. Take your hair down.”

  Reluctantly, she obeyed him, settling between his legs.

  He reached forward and cupped the back of her neck. “Take me in your mouth.”

  She gasped, stiffening as he pulled her inexorably closer. She planted her hands on his knees, feeling herself sinking between his thighs. A bead of moisture formed on the tip of his cock from a single small hole in the center of the huge, mushroomed head.

  “Winter,” he warned. “Swallow my cock,” he demanded hoarsely.

  She swallowed and opened her mouth. He pulled her head down, forcing himself inside her mouth. His hips jerked when she closed her lips around him.

  “Suck it. Suck me like a confection, Winter. I am at your mercy now,” he said.

  For some reason, the husky way he said it made an answering call within her center. She felt the cream of her body gather in her slit, moistening her and increasing the ache of her womb.

  Experimentally, unsure of what she was doing, she formed suction on the bulbous head of his purpled shaft.

  He groaned and jerked against her. “Wrap your hand around me here. Stroke the shaft as you suck. Do it. Now.”

  Moving to obey him, she wrapped her hand around his girth, rubbing him as she’d seen him do at her approach. She suckled him, felt his hand tighten in her hair. He moved her head up and down on him, forcing her to take him deeper into her mouth. She gagged on him, but he did not seem to mind. If anything, it only encouraged him to move faster, jerkier.

  Both of his huge hands now held her head. He lifted his hips, pumping into her mouth with abandon. She tongued the head, groaning in excitement as he forced himself deeper into her mouth. Some ravenous need excited her to have him at her mercy, needing her mouth on his sex.

  An impish hunger built within her to hear his excited groaning, to feel the tension in his hard thighs beneath her palms. His hands bunched in her hair, tightening as he thrust in her mouth with strong, shallow strokes.

  He tasted like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Beyond the scent of clean perfumes, she could smell him. Male and intense, addictively exciting and wild. He groaned, long and loud and deep. His shaft bucked in her mouth, erupting with a salty sweet fluid that coated the inside of her mouth and shot into the back of her throat.

  She realized at once he’d found his release. And she’d been responsible for it.

  His member went flaccid inside her mouth, and he released her head, pulling himself from between her lips.

  Winter sat back on her haunches, feeling the warmth of the fire dry her hair and skin. By the look of him, he’d reached a place she’d never experienced before. She almost wished she’d given in and allowed him his wicked way with her, just so she would know what was shared between men and women.

  And thinking like that was dangerous indeed.

  His ragged breathing slowly returned to normal. He watched her by the fire, drying her hair as she pulled her fingers through the tangles.

  “For a novice, you have a way with your mouth. I knew that sharp tongue was good for other things than laying my hide open.”

  She smiled in spite of herself, oddly pleased.

  “You need to dress. We’ve been playing these games for far too long this afternoon. I would hate for your mother to discover what you’ve been about.”

  The reminder set off an alarm within her. It would break her mother’s heart to know how far her daughter had fallen from grace. “You are right,” she admitted.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Winter was allowed no respite from Logan’s sensual onslaught. She began to realize his ultimate goal was to divest her of her virginity. Was she willing to pay the price of her reputation with her virtue, for some misguided sense of injustice on his part?

  She did not believe her sins were so great to warrant his behavior, but she had no one and nowhere to turn for a savior. Truth be told, as much as she disliked submitting to his will, it was not a hardship.

  Lord Remington was a man of powerful appetites and immense appeal. He conjured within her a desire she scarcely recognized. There was something freeing about being forced to obey his perversions. It alleviated the sense of guilt that plagued her, leaving her with an illusion of innocence.

  Still, knowing that she enjoyed being forced to his sensual delights disturbed her and provoked questions about her morals and sanity. It was not normal for a well-bred woman to want to be forcibly seduced.

  And she should not have enjoyed giving pleasure to his manhood with her mouth.

  But she did.

  When his ‘invitation’ arrived to attend a performance of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet at the theater, she knew she must go. With minimal fuss and a wealth of doubt, Winter accepted his invitation. Not that she could deny him. The threat of the nude’s exposure hung over her like a pall.