by Joanna Shupe
She ran her hands over his shoulders, her eyes tracking the progress. “You are quite handsome yourself.”
He slipped his hand under the light material of her chemise and stroked the top of her breast. Smooth and supple. Irresistibly soft. “I cannot rush this. I feel as if I’ve been waiting years for you.”
As if ready to move things along, she untied her petticoat and then her bustle. When she stepped free, he quickly spun her around and unlaced her corset. Thankfully she had the cumbersome thing half unfastened by the time she turned back around. When it fell to the floor he bent and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed and placing her on the crisp bed linen.
She didn’t let go. Small fists clenched in the material of his shirt and she pulled him down atop her, where the heft of her breasts met his chest and his cock ground into her thigh. They both inhaled sharply. “You minx,” he growled against her cheek, rolling his hips as his body screamed for friction. “This is not going slow.”
Her hands moved to his throat, where she focused on his collar and then his shirt. “You have on far too much clothing.” She pushed the suspenders off his shoulders, gathered his shirt in her fists, and shoved it higher. He whipped the white cotton off and let it fall. Her fingertips traced his chest through the tight undergarment he wore. “You look nothing like the other American gentleman of leisure.”
Instead of offering an explanation, which would reveal far too much, he began nibbling and sucking on her skin, moving steadily downward, over her collarbone, sternum, and the slope of her breast . . . Her back bowed, eyes falling closed in sweet surrender, fiery red hair tumbling free of her coiffure, and he suddenly wanted to bite her, to mark her again. God, what was it about this woman that brought out the primal beast in him?
Her chemise was off in a blink, leaving her magnificent breasts exposed, pale mounds that were full and round, topped with the prettiest pink nipples. Bending, he teased her with his tongue, fingers kneading the supple heft, until she writhed beneath him, her hands clamped around his head. Then he wrapped his lips around one of those peaks and drew it deep into his mouth, relishing the moan that rumbled out of her chest.
It wasn’t enough. He wanted to bury his face between her thighs, taste her sweetness on his tongue, but didn’t wish to scare her. He broke off and loomed over her, pushing a lock of hair from her forehead. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she answered quickly, not even requiring a moment to consider it, and something in his chest turned over.
“I plan to remove your drawers and pleasure you, but I don’t want to frighten you.”
Lines creased her forehead. “I had assumed that would be included.”
He nearly laughed, her answer so forthright and Eva. He leaned down to gently nip the lobe of her ear. “A bevy of delights, my lady. As promised.”
“Then you’d best get busy,” she rasped, turning her head to meet his mouth with her own. They kissed for a long moment, during which he tried to keep his wits about him. He was painfully hard and nearly delirious with need, but he’d promised to take care of her. Watching her come had been the highlight of that damned sea voyage and he couldn’t wait to taste her pleasure on his tongue this time.
He rose up on his knees and went to work. Removed her boots, then untied her drawers and slid them down her hips, taking the stockings as well. This left her exquisitely bare, a feast for his eyes with her pale, unblemished skin, long legs, and red thatch of hair on her mound. Sweet heaven. He ran his palms over her calves and along her thighs, pushed them apart to make room for himself.
Now on his stomach, he used his thumbs to part the outer lips of her sex, revealing every delicious part of her. She was wet and swollen . . . and he hadn’t even touched her yet. His lids drifted shut as he inhaled, the sharp scent of her desire more arousing than any perfume ever created.
“What are you doing?” She shifted, trying to see him and close her legs at the same time. He didn’t move, just kept his shoulders squarely between her thighs.
“Patience, my dear.” Using the flat part of his tongue, he gave a long lick through her folds to the treasure beneath. She squeaked, a noise he definitely hadn’t expected but didn’t deter him in the least. Another long swipe and she dropped onto the mattress. “Oh, God,” he heard her whisper before he continued using his mouth, his tongue, his lips . . .
After a few seconds she no longer formed words but uttered sweet, incoherent sounds of pleasure that had his cock throbbing. When he began sucking on the little bud at the top of her sex, her thighs started to quiver so he worked a finger inside her, then two, and pressed the sensitive spot on her inner wall. The result was instantaneous. She shouted and her muscles clamped down on his fingers, her body rocking and shaking as she came, and he used his tongue to prolong her pleasure as long as humanly possible.
Forever. I could do this forever.
When she pushed on his head, too sensitive for him to continue, he fell onto his back and closed his eyes. Christ, he wanted to shove deep inside her so very badly. He’d never craved a woman like this, with a blinding, all-consuming need to have her. But he couldn’t. She was an innocent and he could not first take her like a brute.
Without thinking, he opened his trousers and took his cock out of his undergarment. He began stroking himself, fast. The familiar feel of his hand, the right pressure, her tangy sweetness still on his tongue . . . It wouldn’t take long—and as soon as he came he could function once more.
Movement registered beside him before gentle lips pressed to his throat. Her hand swept down his belly and covered the hand flying over his shaft. “Let me help you.”
He was burning alive, desperate. “Eva,” he groaned and bucked his hips. Fuck, he was so close but he didn’t want to scare her. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.” She began pulling on his erection, moving with him, trying to learn. “Show me what you like.”
All his common sense, his gentlemanly instincts, disappeared like smoke. “Harder,” he panted. “As hard as you can—and faster. Yes. Like that.” Pressure built between his legs, his balls tightened, and he switched places so her grip was against his skin with his hand on the outside. He kept the pace, her soft hands on his erection, and his muscles clenched.
That was when she released his cock . . . and climbed on top of him.
Chapter Ten
He was the most beautiful man, rumpled and wild with pleasure. Eva couldn’t resist him or this need to ease the ache deep inside her. She knew the basics of intimacy between a man and a woman, and she was desperate to experience it with him.
Throwing a leg over his hips to straddle him, she lined her core up with his erect shaft. His eyes, half-lidded and dark with lust, focused on her face. “Are you certain?”
Instead of speaking, she nodded. Her palms found his chest, nails digging in as she rocked her hips experimentally. The slipperiness between her legs helped her glide over his hardness, and they both gasped.
“God, I want you. So badly, Eva.”
He reached between them and positioned himself at her entrance. With his other hand, he found her hip and nudged her slightly. The blunt crown pressed inside, then more, a thick heat that scraped over her sensitive tissues, stretching her slowly. When the fullness became too much, she paused and he waited, agonizingly patient as her body adjusted. He gave her time and she took it, knowing the reward was soon coming. After all, why would anyone engage in intimacies more than once if it were such a terrible experience?
She sank down, bit by bit, her breath labored and choppy. Sweat broke out on her forehead. Everything clenched in anticipation as she enveloped him, the deep invasion hitting sweet spots she hadn’t known existed. He massaged her breasts and rolled her nipples, his strong, capable hands arousing her with every caress. When their hips joined she let her lids fall and threw back her head, taking a moment to feel.
It was so much more than she’d ever imagined. He was inside her, a part of her, connected i
n a way she’d never been with another before.
“You are gorgeous,” he murmured, leaning up to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked and stroked the tip of her breast, until she was compelled to roll her hips, her body urging her to move.
“Yes, more,” he breathed against her skin. “Just like that.”
“What does it feel like for you?”
He dropped onto the mattress and gripped her thighs. “Tight. Hot. Like absolute heaven. Move, Eva.” He showed her how to rock and slide to bring them both the most pleasure. She ground down, the pressure building as she rubbed over his pubic bone.
“I want to see you.” Her fingers began unfastening the remaining tiny buttons of his undergarment, the ones he hadn’t bothered to undo earlier. He reached to help and soon he’d slipped both arms free and pushed the cloth to his waist. Her breath caught. God above, he was . . . solid. Corded muscles gleamed with perspiration and shifted with every movement. Hollows and ridges outlined bone and tendon. Silky dark hair covered his chest, leading down toward his groin. She’d never seen anything more beautiful in her life.
Not that she planned to tell him. Undoubtedly, he was aware of his effect on the opposite sex, Mr. I’ve-never-had-a-woman-resist-me.
Instead, aroused beyond belief, she quickened her pace. Phillip grunted his approval, then slipped a thumb between her legs to rub the swollen nub waiting there. A rush of pleasure started in her toes, white-hot sensation overcoming her, limbs trembling as the orgasm dragged her under.
Dimly, she felt him driving upward—hard, powerful thrusts that jolted her entire body. He shouted, jerking and shaking as he came, his shaft thickening and pulsing inside her. She loved his desperation, this loss of control in such an otherwise rigid man.
Then they were panting, limp and exhausted. Eventually, she collapsed atop his heaving chest, and his softening penis slipped out of her core. Shadows cloaked the dark room—a place Eva would never forget. She felt sticky and sweaty . . . but utterly transformed. Knocked down and then rebuilt, stronger and wiser, as if she’d been let in on one of life’s biggest secrets.
Bringing her to his side, he held her in the crook of his arm and she stroked the soft mat of hair covering his wide chest. A peaceful moment, the quiet said more than words. Though she was tired, she couldn’t ever remember being happier.
“I should not have finished inside you. I apologize.”
Oh. Yes, that.
Tranquility shattered with very real consequences, she rose up on her elbow to see his face. “It never occurred to me.”
He winced, his expression twisting with true regret. That hurt more than anything else he could have said right then. Not that her virginity was any sort of gift or prize, but she had allowed him inside her. Him, no one else. And already he regretted it.
No doubt her inexperience offended him, quite unlike the ladies he normally bedded who knew how to prevent conception. Women who need not be shown how to please a man. In this lazy post-coital glow, she’d expected praise and affection . . . not contrition.
Lady Unlucky. How could she have forgotten?
Ignoring the swift pain in her chest, she pushed off the mattress and sat, her legs swinging over the side as she tried to collect herself. Casual and professional, Eva. There’s no need for an emotional scene. It’s an affair, not a relationship.
“You needn’t worry,” she said in an attempt at bravery. “I’m quite certain no complications shall result.” Where was her chemise? She peered into the darkened room, moonlight her only guide.
“No one can be certain,” his deep voice said behind her. “Not at this point.”
Rising, she bent to grasp her stockings. “Well, I am.”
“Eva, I am attempting to express concern over your well-being, about something that affects us both. The least you could do is look at me.”
No. What she needed to do was leave. To put distance between them and regain her equilibrium.
She yanked on her stockings and garters, then her drawers. As she tied the strings, Phillip stood in front of her, hands on his hips. “Eva, stop.”
Ignoring him, she spun to retrieve her crumpled chemise on the floor. Strong fingers wrapped around her shoulders and forced her to stand. “What is wrong with you?” he asked, not letting go. “You are rushing out of here as if the building is on fire.”
Wasn’t that what he expected? This was no love affair, like in the romantic novels, with tender affection and words of everlasting devotion. No, tonight had been about his promised bevy of delights, which had been quite thoroughly demonstrated. “I assumed you would prefer to leave now that we are finished . . .” She waved her hand in the direction of the bed.
“Finished?” His mouth flattened into an unhappy line. “You are completely shutting me out. I am trying not to feel—”
“Trying not to feel what?” she asked when he cut himself off.
Releasing her, he dragged a hand through his hair. “I’ve never . . . Well, I didn’t expect you to want to escape me so soon.”
She thought of the way he’d winced earlier. His regret. Shore up your walls, Eva. Build them high. Protect yourself. “You are being silly. This was lovely but I must now return home. I’m expected for dinner.”
He made a sound of disbelief and stared out the window. Tall and broad, he’d pulled his trousers up but hadn’t fastened them. They hung off his hip bones in the most sinful manner. Even annoyed, he was delicious.
“And,” she continued, “I’d say we both got what we wanted. No one was hurt.” Except my pride, of course. “Isn’t that how these things work?”
“Yes, I suppose so. I just . . . I normally have some sort of understanding with a woman. There are practical matters to be discussed ahead of time.”
“Such as?”
He bent down and plucked her chemise off the floor. “Here, put this on. I cannot think straight when you’re half-dressed.”
She lifted her arms and he drew the material over her head and down her hips. “Better?” she asked when he finished.
He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you . . . ? Would you like to do this again?”
“With you?”
Dark eyes narrowed, his jaw hardening. “Yes, with me.”
She liked that spark of anger. A hint of emotion that eased her bruised heart. Perhaps he hadn’t regretted every part of tonight.
She considered his question. Did she want to engage in sexual congress once more? Even with her body sated from the most recent bout, she already craved his touch. What was the point in resisting him, especially now that the deed had been done?
She answered honestly, “I think I would, yes. Would you?”
“Most definitely yes. As often as possible.”
Well, that was flattering. Still, she could not allow this man to overrun her life. She had a job to do—jobs, if one took into account his mother’s cottage—and she did not have time to bow to his whims. At least not outside the construction site.
Most important, she could not develop feelings for him.
“Perhaps we should come up with a schedule. To make things easier.”
His brows lifted, as if the suggestion surprised him. “I was about to propose the same thing.”
“Convenient we think so alike, then.”
“Yes, quite.”
He stroked his jaw, regarding her, and her heart beat faster. She busied herself by slipping into her shoes. “So once a week? Every other week?”
“What am I, fifty years old?” He chuckled. “No, Eva. I’m thinking three times a week. Perhaps more.”
More? More than three times a week? No wonder men were always so busy, rushing about the city as if on important errands. Who’d have guessed a majority of those “errands” were lascivious in nature?
Still, she didn’t presume to think she was the only woman currently in his orbit. The idea of him with another twisted her stomach, but she had to ask. “Are there not . . . others?”
/> His mouth opened, then closed. Reopened to ask, “Do you want there to be? I had assumed we would be exclusive.”
Exclusive was good. Exclusive worked for her. She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Nevertheless, I believe twice is sufficient for now.”
“Twice? Come now. I know you enjoyed yourself with me. Think of how much better it will become once we sort our likes and dislikes.”
Goodness, if this got any better it may very well kill her. “Twice, Phillip. I am quite busy these days, but we may revisit the schedule if we both feel it’s insufficient.”
He cursed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Stop acting like . . .”
“Acting like what?”
“Like such a man. I feel as if our roles are reversed.”
Her first instinct was to apologize . . . and she suppressed it. She did not owe him an apology for being logical and careful, especially when she had the most to lose. “Then you must understand how I feel.”
“Yes, I rather think I do,” he muttered. “And it is certainly putting these matters into a very different light for me.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant, so she brought them back to the issue at hand. As today was Thursday, that made sense to include it as one of their days. “So we’ve agreed on twice a week. How is Monday and Thursday?”
“Fine. Where?”
“I . . .” She trailed off. Where, indeed? A hotel was too risky. Their houses were out of the question.
“Forget it,” he said with a slash of his hand. “I’ll take care of it. Now, I assume you do not use any kind of sponge or syringe?”
She shook her head wildly. What were those things? Did all women know of them?
“No worries. I will procure some condoms.” Her face must have shown her confusion because he said, “Rubber sheaths that encase a man’s erection during intercourse. It will protect you from conceiving.”
Heavens, this was complicated. “Thank you. I assume that means you have no unwanted children running about New York?”
“You would be correct. I am always careful, which is why tonight was such an aberration.”