Alex's Angel

by Natasha Blackthorne

  He was going to guess.

  Oh, God—he was going to guess that she wasn’t experienced.

  His gold brows drew together. “Does it matter, sweetheart?”

  “No.” Her voice sounded so small and husky.

  “Well, thank goodness.” He flashed her a heart-stopping smile, then lowered his head, his eyes growing dark with desire. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. Knowing that he was closer to her own age did nothing to make the situation any less intimidating. He was still so handsome, so charming, so worldly.

  And he was about to take the last of her innocence.

  He kissed her. Not in the hungry, impassioned way she’d read in his eyes but slowly, almost tentatively, brushing along the edges of her lips like a butterfly touching down and lifting off, moving until he had traversed their entirety. The sensation was so sweet that she sighed and closed her eyes, giving herself over to pure bliss.

  “Dear God, you have a lovely mouth,” he whispered in reverent tones. With his tongue he followed the path his lips had just travelled, using the right amount of moisture to create a silken, velvety slide.

  She shivered with delight. Why had she feared this? It was divine.

  “Emily.” He ran a caressing finger over her bottom lip. “Will you do something for me?”

  Wetness flooded between her thighs like nothing she’d ever known. She wanted to please him. Not just because of the money but also for some reason she couldn’t fathom at the moment.

  “Anything.” Was that really her voice, so submissive and breathy?

  “I want you to take me into your lovely mouth.”

  Chapter Six

  At Alex’s request, Emily’s heart skipped a beat and she gasped as she grasped his meaning. He wanted her to take his…his cock into her mouth. The notion shocked her. Did people really do such things? Moreover, could she do something so wicked, so perverse?

  He laughed softly. “It’s probably rather piggish of me to ask so soon, but you see…” Again he ran a caressing fingertip over her lower lip and his voice became husky and sensual. “I spent the better part of last night picturing it. I cannot wait.”

  He pulled her tightly against his body. Through his wrapper and hers, his erection was huge and hot and throbbing. Weakness washed over her and, in its wake, she began to tremble with anxiety and pleasurable excitement. Her heartbeat quickened with fear. Why had she thought she could sham her way through this?

  She didn’t know the first thing about pleasing a man. What if she did it wrong? What if he guessed that she was an untried virgin and expelled her from his rooms? She’d have to go back to the Blue Duck and find someone else. Maybe someone as repulsive and cruel as Green. Her heart began to pound against her chest wall as her panic threatened to spiral out of control.

  No, stop it. Don’t give in to fear. You’ve made it this far.

  She took a long, slow breath, trying to steady herself. She’d have to give a believable performance. She’d have to get control over her rising panic.

  He undid his belt and pulled the garment open to reveal his nakedness. She dropped her gaze to his well-muscled chest, covered with sandy-coloured hair and the nipples, his flat, hard, muscled stomach, his narrow hips where the hair tapered to a thin line. Then her gaze moved lower and her mouth went completely dry and her breath stopped. Yes, men were shaped a great deal like stallions. But even though she’d already felt it both last night and tonight—she hadn’t expected it to be so…large. So erect and rising from its nest of pale gold hair to crest high against his front.

  Her eyes flew back to his face and she found he was watching her. The moment suddenly became too intimate to bear and her face flamed. Oh dear, that wasn’t very convincing for a seasoned harlot. She reached out a trembling hand. She would grasp him and show him how experienced she was. But at the last moment her heart hopped up into her throat, choking her nerve away.

  Her hand hung there, suspended, until she re-gathered her gumption and placed it on his abdomen. She moved it along the silken hair. His muscles tightened under her touch and something hot and slightly moist brushed her hand. She jumped and withdrew her touch and jerked her gaze down. His cock twitched as if it were alive. She stared, transfixed by its pure, masculine beauty.

  He wrapped his hand about the base, holding his cock up so that it appeared even larger than it otherwise might. With his other hand, he swept her hair aside and caressed the back of her neck.

  There was a new tension between them. She sensed that he was waiting. Waiting for her to comply with his request. Her heart pounded harder still and the chamber seemed suddenly overly warm. A wave of dizziness flirted over her. But she realised something else. She was also wet—dripping, gushing down the insides of her thighs. She wanted to do this thing that he wanted her to do. Because he was so utterly male and because he wanted her to do it. Because he was so beautiful. He was the first man she’d been close to—the first one she’d wanted to be close to like this.

  And she did want this closeness. He had made her want it. But how was it properly done?

  As if sensing her confusion, he gently touched her shoulders. “On your knees, my lovely, claret-haired girl.”

  His voice was soft like a caress and her heart fluttered in her breast. She’d do anything he asked in that voice. Anything.

  Closing her eyes, she dropped to her knees. His large hand cupped her face. His touch was warm and tender. She pressed her cheek into his hand. Then she opened her eyes and caught her breath. It looked a lot larger from this vantage point. And it appeared to be leaking some kind of fluid. Her heartbeat raced on a brief but dizzying sprint. Oh God, was she really going to do this?

  Panic slammed into her again. She didn’t know how to do this!

  Gently, he moved her head forward. The crown touched her lips, wetting them with that fluid and sliding along her mouth. A thrill shot through her, rocking her to her core and her panic faded, only to be replaced by stunning excitement. She gripped his powerful thighs and held on to support herself. He groaned, then murmured something. She couldn’t hear him over the roar of her blood in her ears. He moved his cock and she intuitively grasped his desire and ran her lips down the shaft on the underside.

  He cupped his hand on her jaw, moving it to plunge into her hair. “Use your tongue.”

  She opened her mouth and complied, running her tongue along the path her lips had just taken. He groaned and tightened his grip on her hair. The dull discomfort wasn’t unpleasant but instead sent delicious chills through her, making her nipples bead. He leaked milk-white fluid in an almost constant flow now, just as her own wetness continued to flood. She put her mouth to the head and licked the juice away. It was thick and salty and like ambrosia on her tongue. She closed her eyes and focused on the sheer pleasure of licking his smooth, silken flesh, learning his every contour and crease with single-minded intent.

  He released his hold on her hair, touched her shoulder and pushed her back. “That’s enough of that.”

  The abrupt loss of his closeness shocked her. She sat back on her heels, reeling. “Did I…did I do it wrong?”

  He laughed, cupped her jaw again and brought her face to his thigh. “You did it very well—too well.”

  She pressed her cheek against the lightly furred skin of his thigh, breathing in his musky scent. She’d never smelt anything so intoxicating. She caressed the back of his thigh and moved up along his hard buttock. He was so muscular, so very masculine. Beautiful all over. She wished he hadn’t asked her to stop. She ached to please him but had no idea what else he might want. Her bashfulness about sex seemed silly now. If this was sex, then it was the most heady, wonderful thing in the world.

  “Come, now.” He helped her to her feet.

  She gazed up at him tremulously, then gasped as cool air assaulted her body. The dressing gown pooled at her feet.

  She was completely, utterly naked. Heart thudding, she began to tremble all over and immediately covered her pitiful
breasts with one arm. Her other hand covered the red triangle of hair between her legs.

  He took her hands and moved them away from her body. Eyes glued to his face, she let him. He quietly studied her, his gaze roaming slowly down her body. What was he thinking? His expression gave no hint. Her legs quaked so hard she feared she’d fall over.

  How she wished she had regained her previous curves. She wanted so badly to be beautiful for him.

  “Go lay on the bed,” he said.

  Suddenly, her lungs burnt, and she released her breath all at once, then nodded. She retrieved the dressing gown and pulled it about herself. On somewhat wobbly legs she went to sit on the bed and watched as he approached.

  He shed his own robe, giving her the first full view of a naked man. But he didn’t look like she’d ever pictured a gentleman looking. Dressed, he appeared powerfully made, yes, but more elegant. Unclothed, the rugged strength of his body became markedly apparent, from his broad chest, layered with muscle, to his flat, hard mid-section, narrow hips and long, powerful-looking thighs.

  Above his waist his skin was tanned a dark golden colour, telling of his time at sea, where perhaps the all-male company and warmer climates made shirts and waistcoats optional. And all of him was covered in a fine dusting of pale gold hair.

  Having seen naked males only as statues in certain art instruction books, she was fascinated by having the actual article so close for inspection. Such an excellent article, at that.

  He didn’t seem discomfited by her perusal. He sat beside her and reached for her.

  Shaken out of her transfixed fascination with his naked body, she grew suddenly afraid. She backed away. “Must we have the lamps?”

  He frowned as if incredulous. “Are you shy, darling?”

  “A little…the first time with someone new.” She added the last to make her hesitation seem less damning.

  “It’s never the expected with you, is it?” He stroked a fingertip along the back of her bare shoulder.

  “What about the lamps?” She tried without success to keep panic from her voice. “Must we really have them?”

  He caressed her back with a light touch. “There’s always a certain intimacy lost in the dark.”

  “I have never found it so.” She held her breath, cringing at the way she’d faltered over the lie.

  Fine lines crinkled around his eyes, which were so dark with desire they seemed to take on a purplish hue. What had put those lines on the face of such a young man? His exposure to sun and sea air during his privateering days?

  He took the edges of her wrapper. She gripped them more tightly. He laughed softly and tugged insistently at them.

  “This is our first time.” The silken persuasion of his voice sent pleasurable shivers deep into her insides. “I’d dearly like to see every inch of your delightful, delicate little body.”

  Warmth blossomed in the centre of her heart. Delightful, delicate little body. Did he really think so? Could any man really think that about her thinness?

  She studied his expression and could find nothing but sincerity. And his pale eyes were darkened by pupils dilated with desire.

  She loosened her grip and the dark blue velvet slipped through her hands.

  He bent his head and put his lips to her collarbone as he pressed her shoulders gently. “Lay back, sweetheart.”

  She let him push her back. The downy softness of the feather bed cradled her as she fell into it.

  Slowly, he kissed his way to her hardened nipple, circling it. Pleasure like nothing she had felt before jolted through her. He let his large, broad hand drifted to her belly.

  He brushed her most sensitive place. He moved down her body, his lips touching here and there along her lower rib cage, her stomach, leaving little sparks of fire in his wake. He went lower still, kissing her mons. Her heart began to hammer in her chest.

  He was going to do to her what she’d done to him.

  This she hadn’t imagined.

  Not ever.

  Oh God. He could see every part of her. Up close. Heat suffused her face as frissons of apprehension tingled through her, making her breath hitch. What would it be like when he pushed himself inside her, the way Anna had told her men did to women? In moments now, he would do it. And she must pretend to be experienced, to accept it. Only by the strictest exertion of self-discipline did she lay there, passive, exposed, waiting…

  His breath blew over her flesh, the softest, warmest caresses imaginable. She shivered in response. His tongue traced along the seam of her outer lips. Heat blossomed in her core, provoking the most unbearable desire to feel his touch. Her wetness flowed, an uncontrollable deluge. She moaned, her hips pushing up of their own accord. She slid her hands down her body then skimmed over his head, wanting but not daring to pull him closer.

  His hair was silken, warm against her fingertips. She opened her eyes. His head was there…between her legs, his golden tresses falling over the shocking red of her mons. Dear heavens, he possessed the most gorgeous masculine face she had ever seen and he was pressed to that part of her.

  Her mouth fell open with the wonder of it.

  Who could have ever have possibly even dreamt of such a thing!

  She’d imagined bedding a man. She’d pictured it as very direct, very basic. She had never dreamt of such subtle intimacies.

  He parted her and swept his tongue into her folds. The wet warmth of it sent sparks of shock tingling up through her tummy and down her legs, to her toes. Her hips jerked forward of their own accord and her shriek echoed in the chamber. The sound of it surprised her.

  He explored her with delicate flicks along her inner lips. The flow from her core became a flood and he licked with increasing greediness as if he were seeking to consume every drop she could give.

  He glided his tongue incrementally up along the underside of her sensitive nub. That nub swelled, growing firmer, aching for his touch. Longing pressed her. Longing so strong she trembled with it. On a long, low moan, she closed her eyes and tightened her hands upon his head. Pushing his face closer to her heat.

  Finally, he reached the tip of her nub, teasing it with light touches of his tongue. Fire burnt through her and she shrieked again. He swirled around his target. She entwined her fingers in his hair and couldn’t keep herself from pressing his head even closer. Couldn’t keep from pushing her hips up higher. She wanted something else, something firmer, something… He drew her nub into his mouth and sucked.

  Fire pulsed through her. Over and over.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Her cries echoed loudly in her ears. But she couldn’t keep from repeating herself.

  He didn’t stop, even when her contractions ebbed. Instead, he kept stimulating her with soft little licks. The flames of her hunger rose again. Everything inside her contracted, fire consumed her, the waves of pleasure coming harder, lasting longer. So long that she was sure the intensity would kill her.

  But when they ebbed again, she wanted more.

  Her whole body shook. She pressed her fingers more firmly, her nails digging into his scalp. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  “Please, please, please.” She chanted the word over and over. Her heart pounded in her ears at a deafening pitch. She was going to die. She knew it. But she didn’t care.

  He cradled her bottom with his large hands, lifting her pelvis up, holding her even closer to his mouth and he gave her more, sucking her steadily, firmly, rocking her hips against his mouth with his hands.

  Her screams burnt her own ears.

  Her hands dropped from his head and lay limply at her sides. The feather bed cushioned her abrupt fall to earth. She lay there, her breath coming hard and ragged. Her throat was afire. Every part of her was weak. Spent.

  “Stop, stop… Oh God, stop,” she panted.

  As if from a distance, she was aware of his movements, the weight of him, as he travelled up her body. He cupped her face. His eyes were like twin flames, burning her. “I knew you’d be a greed
y little vixen—but you have exceeded my wildest hopes.”

  His kissed her and she tasted her own salt on his mouth and tongue. It was too unbearably sensual. Too intimate.

  Her body still hummed and ticked with the after effects of such sensual indulgence. Elation filled her, lifted her spirits higher than she’d ever known.

  He gently but firmly nipped her neck, then growled deeply. Despite her exhaustion, the vibrations rocked through her, sending tingling waves down to tighten her nipples and put quivers in her insides.

  She laughed at the sensation and the thought that a gentleman would do such an animal thing. But at this moment everything seemed pleasing.

  Though his hardness throbbed insistently against her leg, he merely held her, slowly stroking his fingertips over her breast and belly in a constant, lazy motion.

  She closed her eyes and let herself continue to float on the honeyed bliss.

  Eventually, his hand drifted between her thighs.

  New, sudden, strong desire stabbed up through her sex. The shock of it made her moan. A fresh surge of wetness flowed over her inner lips. His finger traced her outer lips, parted them and probed into her slick inner folds.

  He was pressing. Pushing. Stretching her too much. It became pain, radiating up from her core. She inhaled deeply to smother a cry of shock.

  “Darling… You’re so very tight.” His voice sounded almost like a prayer.

  Oh Lord, what if he should guess? Covering her panic, she laughed softly. “Everyone tells me that.”

  “Then you should be a wealthy woman already.”

  He pulled his finger out and she gasped with the relief. Immediately, he plunged back in, this time with two fingers, moving and distending her. Fiery sparks of pain shot through her again. She balled her fists against it.

  “Christ, your cunt feels divine. Like tight, wet silk. Do you get this wet every time?”

  Holding back her pain, she couldn’t answer. It didn’t matter. He didn’t seem to expect an answer, for he was crawling on top of her. Parting her legs. He touched her intimately but it wasn’t his fingers this time. Silken heat slid over her sensitive nub sending sparks of delight to her core. Her inner muscles clenched and she ached with need. Need to be filled. She wanted him inside her. Now. Anything she wanted this badly had to be good. Perhaps a woman wasn’t built for having fingers put up there but she instinctively knew his cock was exactly what she needed.