James was waiting inside the dining room. He’d showered, too, and was now in ripped jeans and a shirt pulled taut over his toned body. He didn’t need a suit to show off his power; it was the way he stood tall, his confident expression and his body language emanated control.
If a man could be beautiful, Ballad was that man with his high cheekbones and regal nose, and that dark hair framing a perfect face. His heavenly chestnut eyes showed more than they realized; to me, anyway.
He rose from a dining room chair and came toward me. “Why are you dressed?”
“This is what evolved humans do now.”
“Take it off.”
“You take it off.”
He eased the violin case out of my grip and laid it on the long table. Then he closed the gap between us. He worked the catch of my dress at my nape. He took hold of the top of my dress and tugged it down and over my hips. A tap from him told me he wanted me to step out of it. Reluctantly, I complied, my skin tingling where his fingertips brushed over me.
With a clip he had my bra undone. With that off he moved to my panties and eased them down and around my ankles. This time his strong hand lifted each foot to get me out of them.
I wanted to say something but was too enraptured by being back in his presence. I’d seen the level of his ferocity back in London. For some weird reason I craved it. I’d also seen his kindness.
James had seen me naked before, of course, yet I still clutched my forearms over my chest to cover myself. With me naked and him still dressed I felt my power slipping away. Who was I kidding? The moment I’d walked into this house I’d relinquished all control to him.
He cupped my face, then leaned in and kissed me…
This was everything I knew it would be, passionate and loving, his tongue quickening, its movement savage and possessive. He couldn’t stay cruel and indifferent for long…this proved it. This kiss was too personal, too consistent with affection to prove otherwise.
When he broke away, I was breathless.
James backed me up until my butt hit the table. My stomach clenched when I saw his eyes glaze over as he retreated into his dark shell.
“James,” I said soothingly. “Talk to me.”
With his large hands around my waist he lifted me and sat me on the edge. He leaned over and flipped open the lid on my violin case.
“I’m not—”
“You’re not the one playing, Emily.” He reached in for the bow. “Lay back.”
I straightened my spine, refusing to move.
His hand pressed between my breasts and he nudged me back until I was lying on the table looking up at the ceiling fan with my legs dangling over the edge. He stood between them.
My nipples were taut beneath my crossed arms.
James brought his phone to his ear. “Xavier, she’s lying naked on the dining room table.” He was leaving a message. “Remember that time in here between us? It’s like that.”
“Xavier!” I called out.
James’ glare silenced me. “Arms by your side.”
I huffed out my frustration as I obeyed by positioning my arms on either side of my body.
“I’m holding her violin bow. Can you imagine the music I’ll play?”
Reaching for his wrist, I curled my palm around it to stay him. The bow strained in his grip. He was holding the bow like I did—like he was going to play.
“Call me back, Xavier. Or this continues.” James threw his phone down and it skidded past my head.
Stretching to look at my lifeline to Zavier, I felt Ballad’s silent command, forbidding me from reaching for it.
The last time I’d called Xavier his line had been disconnected. James had another number for him. One I needed in order to get a message to him.
James yanked his wrist from my grip and brought the bow to my mouth, drawing the strings slowly along my lips. Pouting, I felt the tingle of gentle pressure as it worked its way along my mouth. It was as daring as it was erotic.
He was playing me like an instrument.
The intimate way he was caressing me with the bow immediately weakened my resistance.
The scent of rosin found me as he dragged it along my lips, then downward over my nipple, causing it to bead beneath the caress of strings. He moved over to my right breast and circled the areola until it was erect. The heady sensation of arousal filled me with need. There was no fighting this. I didn’t want to.
This was the intimacy I’d craved from him.
The dark part of me that I kept suppressed was close to bursting open like a ripe fruit. My short, sharp breaths revealed how much I desired his depravity.
“James,” I said his name like a prayer—but not to stop him.
I wanted him to take me to that place of darkness and hold me there suspended because the words he’d spoken in the boathouse were right: I needed something more than the ordinary.
I saw a glimmer of softness in his expression. Then his pupils dilated as he tilted the bow and used it to tease my pubic bone, sliding it lower still. Raising my hips slightly, I tipped my sex to greet the strings as they brushed along me, exhaling sharply when he ran it along my clit, making it throb.
I couldn’t keep myself from moaning.
A brilliant pleasure erupted, causing me to shudder violently.
This was an exquisite tease. James using something I adored above all things to arouse me, reminding me that I’d put music before him and Xavier—letting me know this intimacy was what I’d lost because of my stubborn decision to perform on that yacht.
That night I’d willingly thrown us away.
Those first days with them had felt like I’d been gripped with a kind of madness…
This was true passion—what he was doing with the bow, the way he controlled each tilt, each draw of the strings that rippled along sensitized flesh, easing apart my folds to caress my clit, causing my back to arch.
James set the bow on the table to my right and leaned over me. “Stay like this. Don’t move. Keep that cunt on show.”
His words were depraved and yet my sex clenched in need because of them. James’ degradation was filling me with an aliveness I craved.
How long would he leave me like this?
Raising my head, I looked over at my underwear on the floor and considered hopping off and getting dressed before he came back.
Yet my body refused to move. That stickiness between my thighs revealing just how aroused I was. Those ripples within proving what I hoped might happen when he returned. My mind racing with what he and Xavier had done in this very room.
My gaze snapped over to the phone that was within reach.
And then James kicked the door open. He carried in an open bottle of Dom Perignon and two crystal glasses, giving a nod of approval when he saw I hadn’t moved from how he’d left me. He poured champagne into two glasses and set one of them on the table next to the bottle. I made a mental note not to thrash around and knock them over.
James took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes in appreciation. Then he dipped his fingertip into the bubbles and brought it up to my lips.
I suckled his finger, tasting the sweetness, my lips parting to let him press in further and trace along my tongue. Then he lifted his glass and poured a trickle of champagne over my chest and leaned in to lap it up, his tongue circling my nipple.
I watched him tip his glass and pour the entire contents over my sex. It splashed and went everywhere. He placed the glass down on the table and then grabbed my thighs to pull me toward him. Leaning low, he began suckling up what he’d poured and ravishing me with such an obsession that the pleasure felt overwhelming.
“Oh, God!”
“I’m your God.” James’ warm breath brushed over me.
“Did you do this to Xavier?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Yes, and then…” James stood up straight. “I fucked him on this table.” His finger explored my entrance and it made me jolt.
He unzipped his jeans and place
d the tip of his cock at my pussy, easing the tip in a little. He reached for the second glass of champagne and sipped from it. With him tapping my vagina with his erection and sipping bubbly this was as decadent as it was arousing. I watched the way his mouth met the glass, the way he swallowed the sweet liquid, giving a small sigh as he did.
Remnants of the liquid trailed between my folds and then I felt the sticky dampness between my ass cheeks. One thrust and he was inside me. I gritted my teeth against the tension of his penetration, squeezing my muscles around the delicious length of him.
He took a sip from his glass, staring down at me with a curious focus. “Xavier knows I’m inside you.” His left thumb pressed my clit and circled. “I’m sure he’s also guessing that I’m preparing you for a good fuck.”
“Maybe it will turn him on,” I taunted.
“Undoubtedly.”
James shoved his hips forward and slid all the way in. “As Xavier remembers everything, he’ll be able to imagine what this feels like.”
“Only you fucked him in the ass.”
He set the glass down. “Of course.”
“It’s like he’s here,” I whispered.
James stilled. “Yet it’s my dick inside you, Emily.”
“I hope he finds me.”
“Let’s hope he takes his time.”
He looked even more dangerous…feral even, as he pulled all the way out then began a slow steady fucking. The fullness was almost too much to bear, the tension unyielding and yet blissfully sensual.
“Please…”
“Breathe, Em,” he said softly.
A wave of arousal caused me to reach low and begin rubbing my clit, flicking it faster to match the pleasure inside, causing me to tremble.
He nudged my hand away and took up strumming my clit for me. “Hands above your head.”
Doing as he asked, I raised my arms and rested them above my head, surrendering to him…to this…my thighs easing farther apart so he could have his way with me.
“Close your eyes.”
I obeyed, letting the sensations ripple through me, my channel squeezing and milking his cock. A part of me was missing. A part of us. Surely James missed Xavier too.
“Keep your eyes shut,” he demanded. “Don’t open them until I say.”
Managing a nod, I tried to exhale through the lightheadedness.
“Good girl.” James leaned along my body and planted a kiss on my mouth, and I opened my lips to greet his, my tongue lapping his and tasting champagne as his kiss reached into my soul, devouring my will to resist.
His body lifted and he picked up the pace of his thrusts. “You’re soaking wet, Emily.”
“Because of you.” I writhed beneath him.
“Do you want me to rub your clit again,” he asked huskily.
“Yes.”
“How’s this?”
“Don’t stop,” I managed, eyelids burning with the effort of keeping them squeezed shut when what I wanted was to see his expression of lust.
He shifted his body a little so he could go deeper and faster and still match his pounding with rapid flicks of his finger. His firmness grew harder as he buried himself inside me, his low growls proving he was nearing his release, too.
A climax gripped me and I was lost in my desire, struggling to inhale as my body surrendered to this unrelenting ecstasy.
“James!”
I blindly felt for his arms because it was too much, and at the same time it wasn’t enough. I wanted to see his face when he came.
Beneath me the table shook violently in response to our lovemaking. The dampness of my juices mixed with champagne and the sweet scent mingled with his cologne. The heady aroma wafted over me and absorbed into my being.
James roared as he spilled his heat inside me, his cry of release thrilling to hear as he stilled and then began a leisurely pace of grinding against me so, so deep, the warmth of his cum sending a shiver through me.
“Come again, Emily.” He set about playing with my clit, flicking it with his fingertips even faster than before.
“Can I open my eyes?”
“Not yet.”
With his two flicking fingers circling my sex, he alighted every cell of my body, causing me to relax and let him have his way…
I screamed when the climax possessed me; he possessed me as I willingly let myself be drawn into the shuddering place of forgetting.
I opened my eyes and lifted my head. James was still buried deep inside my pussy—and he was also holding up his phone.
No, please, no…
James had called Xavier so he could hear everything.
“I believe I made my point.” James hung up.
He pulled out of me and tucked himself away. Then he shoved the phone into his pocket and walked out of the room without looking back.
I felt the flush of heat drain out of me with the realization James had grabbed that phone when he’d kissed me. Xavier would have heard me calling out Ballad’s name.
Instead of sitting up, I remained on my back on the table. My eyes followed the spinning fan above while my thoughts spun out of control.
Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision.
Come for me, Xavier, my love.
James
Ultimate View, my forty-five-foot sailing vessel, was tethered to the end of the dock. Victoria had chosen the perfect name for our gorgeous yacht. The first day we’d sailed her out on the ocean we’d happily christened her by drinking the best champagne. There were so many fond memories…
A rush of nettles tethered me back to reality, a familiar grief choking out my joy. The kind that tore at my soul to remind me Victoria would never again climb aboard her.
Don’t, Victoria…
Don’t cloud my thoughts with sentiment.
Moving on would be the worst kind of betrayal.
I glanced back and saw that Emily had caught up with me. She stood several feet behind me on the dock, seemingly unsure whether to proceed. She had every reason to be reluctant. Xavier wasn’t here and in his place was a royal bastard with bad intensions.
She looked dazzling in her sunhat, sundress, and strappy sandals. Strands of her brown hair were blowing over her misty eyes, and she pulled her sunglasses down to shield them.
An hour ago, I’d taken her hard on the dining room table, teasing her body with her violin bow. Though she’d experienced pleasure, our sex had been unsentimental. I’d refused to show her how I really felt.
God, I could be so fucking unromantic at times.
This trip out on the water was aimed at Xavier.
If his memory served him correctly, and Xavier’s curse was that it always did, he’d remember what had happened after I’d taken him hard on the dining room table.
Six months ago, we had stood on this very spot before boarding the Ultimate View. He’d looked just as uncertain as Emily did now, with the same hope in his eyes that we could be more.
Spending time with him in Montego Bay had eased my grief for brief periods—as though he was able to hold back the tidal wave of pain. That was the only reason I’d relented to the intimacy he yearned for…
I’d yearned for it, too.
Holding my hand out, I coaxed Emily to join me and I helped her onto the yacht, pointing to where I wanted her to sit on the starboard side. I hoisted the sail and we were heading out onto the open crystal blue ocean within minutes.
The coolness of the salty breeze rushed over me as the late afternoon sun drenched us in warmth. There was nothing that came close to this feeling of freedom, the absolution of all responsibilities; though I wouldn’t be granting myself any precious leisure time. This was all business.
Glancing over at Emily, I asked, “Do you have sunblock on?”
She looked sheepish. “It’s in my bag.”
I secured the mainsheet to maintain the sail and moved toward her. “You don’t want to end up with sunburn.”
She gestured to the vast sail. “That’s impressive.�
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“This yacht is as big as it gets with one for a crew.”
“Sorry I’m not much help. You can teach me. I’ve always wanted to learn how to sail.”
“We have to protect your hands.” I cupped them in mine.
Her fingers were delicate and I explored their elegance. The hands of this woman who would one day become famous. Her talent was that profound. Emily would no doubt inspire future violinists, too, just as the renowned Diana Zane had done.
“Let me in, James,” Emily whispered. “Talk to me.”
Stirring from my daydreaming, I realized I’d been holding her hands for a little too long. Letting go, I stepped over to adjust the sail to full mast. I didn’t want Emily anywhere near the rigging. Couldn’t risk her fingers getting injured.
From the moment I’d learned to sail I’d gone out alone. My love of the ocean had morphed into a serious career—those years spent on submarines feeling like my natural habitat, despite how confined life could be.
“What’s the other boat you’re working on? The one called Liberty?”
“A hobby.” I played it down because that smaller boat I was renovating felt like it had my bloodline running through it.
I’d gifted it to Victoria on our wedding day, and it had been swept out to sea during a hurricane. We’d rescued it but the hull had been damaged. Whenever I was in Montego Bay, I worked on it a little, trying to bring the boat back to its original beauty. It was taking time to fix, though. It was a challenging boat to grapple with. Maybe it was the hull, or the design, or…
Reaching into Emily’s beach bag, I pulled out the bottle of sunblock and squeezed lotion into my palm. “Turn around.”
The touch of her skin felt as soft as silk. Gently, I eased the straps of her dress off her shoulders. She was wearing a bikini beneath. Working the cream over her exposed back, my palms tingled as they caressed her. I breathed in her faint floral perfume, and leaned down to drink in the fresh, wind-blown scent of her hair.
Emily was so real…so pure—unaffected by her talent and wistfully uncaring about her natural beauty.
Pervade Duet: Pervade London & Pervade Montego Bay Page 33