Love's Portrait

by Monica Burns

  “What?”

  “Lay back.” His finger found the outer rim of her sex and lightly brushed over it.

  “Oh God.”

  Her whimper broke past her lips as her body melted. Slowly, she found herself reclining back against the unyielding desktop. He towered over her, an expression of raw desire on his face. In a move that surprised her, he spread her legs apart until she was completely exposed to his view.

  His eyes darkened as he studied her. “We talked about fantasies yesterday, my sweet, and I’ve had several about you. Now, I intend to experience one.”

  She tensed as his hands stroked her inner thighs and moved toward her curls. She wanted his touch. Needed to feel his fingers stroking her, pleasuring her. A small moan of delight escaped her. Her gaze met his and he smiled.

  “Let me tell you about one particular fantasy, sweetheart.”

  The thought of how his words could ignite an unquenchable thirst for his touch made her nod helplessly. She licked her dry lips and his smile dissolved into an expression of dark need.

  “In my fantasy, I get to dip my tongue into your hot cream. I lick every bit of it off these soft folds of yours.”

  “Oh dear lord.” She could only stare at him in shock as he knelt between her legs. His gaze did not leave hers.

  “I’m going to enjoy licking and sucking on you until your thick cream coats my tongue.”

  Speechless, she watched him lower his head and the sudden fire of his tongue swirling around the rim of her sex tugged a cry of wild delight from her. She tensed at the pleasure filling her belly. An instant later, his tongue stroked along her inner folds, and she melted beneath the temptations of his sinful mouth and the hot strokes of his tongue.

  The wickedness of it was exhilarating, enthralling. Need cascaded its way over her skin. It tensed her muscles until it created an ache she could not put into words. Her body seemed completely out of control, willing to do his bidding with the slightest touch. But she was beyond caring. Beyond anything but the wild sensations quivering through her body.

  “Jesus, you taste good.” His voice was husky with passion. “You’re dripping with hot honey.”

  His tongue pressed into her slick folds once more. Gently, he nibbled on her sensitive nub of flesh and she uttered a low cry of intense pleasure. She’d never been this aroused before. Was this what sex was really suppose to be like? She wanted to explode. Pressure etched its way down to where his tongue was licking and sucking on her so intimately.

  “Oh God, please,” she puffed in short breaths. “Please, Morgan.”

  “That’s it, sweetheart. You’re on fire now. You’re hot and aching to explode.”

  “Oh…yesss.” She shuddered as he stroked her deeply with his tongue. Her muscles clenched at the intimate contact. Never had she experienced anything so erotically satisfying.

  He controlled her every thought, her every reaction, but she didn’t care. If giving up control could give this much pleasure it was worth the price of making herself vulnerable for this short period of time. Her body was his to command, and the pressure building inside her exploded in a splinter of tiny shards of sinful delight. With a thrust of her hips, she arched upward and released a cry of exhilaration.

  “Oh God, yes!”

  A second later, she shattered beneath his touch. Oblivious to anything but the heat coating her body, she barely registered the fact that Morgan had picked her up in his arms. It wasn’t until he sat down in his chair with her in his lap that she realized she was no longer on his desk.

  Through the thin layers of her clothes, his hard length pressed against her thigh. Startled, she realized he was still aroused and yet his only thought seemed centered around her pleasure. The knowledge stunned her. Never in her married life had she ever been shown such sensitive consideration. It was a clear intent to put her pleasure first.

  She swallowed hard at the unexpected emotion his actions evoked inside her. If the man continued to seduce her so patiently, there would be no hope of resisting him. The man already held too much sway over her. With a glance up into his eyes, she grew stiff with tension.

  Satisfaction glittered in his gaze. He believed he had won. Well, hadn’t he? For all intents and purposes, she was a St. Claire woman. He’d branded her in the most intimate way just a moment ago. And while he had pleasured her beyond her wildest imaginings, their association was becoming far too dangerous.

  She could not allow it to continue. Never again would she submit to any man’s control. Once had been enough, and where Morgan St. Claire was concerned, control was everything. He lived and breathed control.

  Even their wager had been an issue of control for him. He’d seen to it that she would lose and he’d have his way. Any involvement with him could mean only one thing. She would be his to command and, at his disposal until he chose to cast her aside with only a handkerchief as a memento of their association.

  Glancing away from him, she tensed as a warm finger stroked the side of her neck. The musky warm scent of her body drifted near her nose. “Next time, I intend to come inside you, sweetheart, and I promise you’ll melt.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Oh, how she wanted to accept that offer. But if she did, she’d be lost. What was she going to do? How was she going to keep her heart and soul safe from this man’s powerful charms? She had to keep him at bay somehow. He’d already demolished her physical resistance. If she didn’t take care, it would be her heart next.

  Clarity struck at that precise moment. He wanted her in his bed willingly, and if she went to him on her own volition, then she would be free. There would be one blissful night, and then he could make no further demands of her. It was the only way she could protect herself. The longer she put off the payment of the wager, the darker her prospects became for escaping with her heart intact. There could be no other choice.

  “Morgan.”

  He brushed her hair with his mouth. “Hmm.”

  “I…I would like…would you take me to your room tonight.”

  She tensed as he grew still and silent against her. There was something disturbing about his tautness that increased her tension. Fearful that he might have found her request insincere, she trailed her forefinger down the middle of his chest until her fingers were at the top of his trousers.

  The warmth of his hand covered hers. Meeting his gaze, she saw a hunger in his eyes that alarmed her. It hypnotized her. Convinced her that no matter how far she might run, he would always be in her thoughts.

  Even in spite of her fear, the dark passion in his expression excited her, and as her hand slid down further, he abruptly set her on her feet and rose to tower over her.

  “No. Not tonight.” He shook his head as he cupped her face and kissed her gently. “I said willingly, Julia. At the moment, your body wants me, but I’m not so sure of your head. Tomorrow night if you still feel the same, then come to me. I want no regrets.”

  She flinched at the words. There would always be regrets. He wanted her in his bed emotionally as well as physically—unfettered by the past. But that wasn’t something she could do. When she went to him, it would be for one glorious night and nothing more. There was no other way. With a nod of her head, she moved away from him.

  He stood up, but didn’t prevent her from walking away from him. In a gesture of frustration, he shoved a hand through his hair before reaching for his clothing. What the hell had he been thinking to refuse her request? Hell, his cock was harder than an iron hitching post, and he ached with the need to bury himself inside her.

  What was it about Julia that intrigued him so much? She was far more complex than the woman he’d seen in the portrait. Perhaps that’s why thoughts of her seemed to fill his every waking moment. She was a puzzle he wanted to unlock. Watching her button her dress, he noted how her movements echoed with a stark vulnerability.

  Something about her request troubled him. Her eyes had darkened when he’d insisted they wait until tomorrow night. While she’d clearly be
en disappointed, he also saw a flash of confusion in her beautiful gaze. She was still holding back. Hell, had he really broken through her shell or was it an illusion.

  Watching her now, he wasn’t sure what to make of her current frame of mind. He’d pleased her sexually. That had been more than evident, and he relished knowing he’d pleased her. His own satisfaction could wait. The thought made his cock tighten in retaliation, and he winced.

  But he wanted to do more than please her in bed. He wanted to sweep away the darkness that always seemed to shadow her whenever they were together. There was a warm, vibrant woman beneath that reserved façade of hers. He’d seen glimpses of her already. What had happened to make her hide from the world? The most frustrating thing was not being able to recognize the enemy holding her hostage.

  It was damn frustrating. How could he fight something he couldn’t see? Discovering what terrified her so much was the key. The woman was an enigma. She had more secrets than a spy, and he intended to discover each and every one. But something told him that it would take longer than he expected. Much longer.

  He wasn’t sure what to make of his need to woo her as he was doing. It wasn’t something he’d ever done before. He’d charmed the ladies he’d bedded, but with Julia, it was different. He wanted something more. The word lasting flashed through his head, and he crushed the thought. A permanent relationship was out of the question. So why did it seem so appropriate when he thought of Julia?

  Tucking his shirt into his pants, he frowned as she finished restoring her appearance. He noted how she’d retreated behind a composed look of serenity. With three quick strides, he crossed the floor to stand in front of her. She didn’t retreat, and although he saw a brief shudder race through her, she met his gaze steadily. The fullness of her mouth caught his eye, and he kissed her. Lifting his head, he sent her a determined look.

  “Tonight I broke through that icy shell of yours. Tomorrow night I intend to see that shell shattered completely.”

  An indescribable emotion flickered in her gaze before she smiled. “And I shall see if the great St. Claire’s reputation is all it is said to be.”

  The cheeky words caught him by surprise, and his jaw sagged. She laughed with genuine amusement and more than a hint of triumph. The relaxed expression on her face warmed him thoroughly. With a grin, he tugged her into his arms.

  “I promise you, my sweet,” he growled. “Tomorrow night you won’t think about anything else except my wicked reputation as I intend to pleasure you until the dawn.”

  Morgan didn’t give her a chance to respond as he captured her mouth again and proceeded to give her a taste of what she had to look forward too.

  Chapter 6

  The sweet smell of new grass teased her senses as Julia trotted along the riding track in Hyde Park. It was early yet. Far too early for fashionable members of the Set to be out riding or walking in the park. She’d not slept well and instead of continuing to toss in her bed, she’d decided to go for a ride.

  Usually the fresh air was enough to clear her head so she could think straight. But that wasn’t the case today. If anything, her thoughts were all the more cloudy than when she’d still been in bed. Tonight she would go to Morgan as she’d agreed, but she wondered if he would deduce her intention never to share his bed again once tomorrow morning arrived. Something about him said he would want to continue their affair. That, she wasn’t prepared to do.

  There was no doubt the man was a skilled lover. Fire skimmed the surface of her skin every time he was near. He was a master at making her feel things no man had ever made her feel. With each touch, she wanted to melt into his arms and forget everything except the fact that he was making love to her.

  Now, in the light of day, her decision was not as clear-cut as she’d thought. The heated passion of the night had given way to the cold shadows of the morning. And fear was the primary shadow. Fear of giving herself over to his complete control.

  But even more frightening was the notion that she might not mind giving up her control. The traitorous thought had shaken her deeply. She heaved a sigh. There was no other choice really. Tonight she would go to Morgan’s bed willingly. And there would be no doubt in his mind, or hers, that it was of her own volition. But would she have the strength to leave him when morning came?

  With a nudge of her heel, she urged Solomon into a canter. A short time later she reached the end of the narrow track and turned about to return in the direction she’d come. As she did so, she caught sight of Morgan riding toward her.

  He cut a fine figure on his gray mount—so fine that he stole her breath away. She tried to check the desire that abruptly soared through her. But the moment she did so, a small voice reminded her that there was no reason she couldn’t enjoy the time she had left in Morgan’s company.

  After tonight, they would go their separate ways, and his touch would only be a memory. She would allow herself to savor the pleasure of his company, if even for just these few short hours. Her mouth went dry as he pulled alongside of her, a wickedly charming smile on his sensual lips.

  “Good morning, Julia.”

  “St. Claire.” She nodded her head in greeting as he reined in his animal to walk beside hers.

  “I think we’re beyond such formality, don’t you? Especially given the fact that I can still taste you on my tongue.”

  The audacious words made her gasp as she glared at him. “How can you mention something so…so…hedonistic in the light of day?”

  “If I’m epicurean so be it.” He shrugged. “But I confess that the taste of your delicious hot honey on my tongue has pleased me more than anything in recent memory.”

  Unable to respond, she stared at him in shock while the heat of embarrassment burned her cheeks . His obvious amusement only enhanced his good looks, and he grinned with almost boyish delight at her appalled expression. Unable to think of a suitable reply to his decadent statement, Julia prodded Solomon into a trot. She should be furious at him, but his words, as wicked as they were, had pleased her. Had he really liked tasting her as much as she’d enjoyed the pleasure he’d given her? He appeared at her side again, his expression unrepentant.

  “Come now, my sweet. I thought we had disposed of that prim and proper shell of yours last night.”

  “What occurred last night is not a subject for discussion here.”

  “I see. Then I shall call on you later this morning to further elaborate on the finer qualities of your honey pot, and the plans I have for filling it completely.”

  “Morgan.” She shot him a scandalized look while she struggled to maintain control of her growing arousal.

  “Say that again.” There was almost a note of tender possession in his gruff command.

  “What?”

  “Say my name as if I’d just made your honey flow hot and sweet.”

  “Dear Lord. Will you please stop?” His hot words warmed her blood, and the muscles below her stomach clenched then shuddered with a tiny spasm. She shot him a glance, and when his blue gaze met hers, she could see the passion glowing in his eyes. He narrowed his eyes then reached over and pulled her horse to a halt.

  “Sweet Jesus. You’re hot and slick for me right now. Aren’t you.”

  She swallowed hard at the desire tightening his jaw into a harsh line. Glancing away from him, she tried not to squirm in the saddle. Already her nether regions were screaming for his touch. If only she could make him ache the same way he was arousing her.

  With a daring she didn’t know she possessed, she slowly raised her gaze to meet his. Deliberately, she wet her lips with her tongue, her eyes meeting his boldly. His jaw went rigid at the action.

  “Yes.” She saw him swallow his tension. “Isn’t that how you like me? Hot and wet on your tongue?”

  He stared at her in amazement. She bit back her smile. It wasn’t often one could silence Morgan St. Claire twice in less than twenty-four hours. His eyes narrowed on her as he shifted uncomfortably in his saddle.

 
“Take care, Julia. There are plenty of places here in the park for more than just a slight tryst.” The hoarse sound of his voice thrilled her. He was as painfully aroused as she was.

  “Indeed. Then I must guard my honey well until we meet again tonight.”

  Not waiting for his response, she lightly tapped Solomon’s hindquarters with her crop and cantered away from Morgan. She’d actually matched wits with the man and bested him. Or at least not allowed him to think of a rebuttal. Invigorated by her daring, she smiled.

  For once, she had gained the upper hand with Morgan St. Claire. She liked the way it made her feel. Powerful, witty and feminine. Something she’d never felt before in her life. She’d shared control of their conversation and even managed to arouse him with her words.

  Tonight, no doubt, he’d make her pay dearly for her behavior. The thought excited her almost as much as it surprised her.

  Chapter 7

  Morgan surveyed his bedroom. Everything was ready. All that was missing was the beautiful, seductive Julia. Earlier in the day, he’d sent her a note inviting her to dinner at seven. While she’d not replied, he’d considered sending another note demanding a reply. Then he recalled the memory of their conversation in Hyde Park, which eased some of his misgivings.

  The memory of her words from earlier that morning made him inhale sharply. Damn if the woman hadn’t made him rock hard with just a few choice words. He grinned. Tonight he’d extract a delicious punishment from her. But he’d ensure that it was just as pleasurable for her as it was for him. Tonight was the night he’d been waiting for since he’d first set eyes on her nude portrait.

  It had been a long time since any woman had captured his interest the way Julia had. Despite everything he did to push her out of his thoughts, she was always there. He tried to convince himself it was only lust talking, but it was becoming more difficult to think of her just in terms of his bed. Too often, he’d visualized her waiting for him when he came home from a long day at the office.