Stories for When the Sun Goes Down (Sexy Anthology)

by Lily Harlem

  “But what is there to forgive?” I asked, pressing my fingers to my tingling lips and wondering what discord had interfered with our precious consummation.

  “I promised myself I would take it slow, stay in control. I do not want to overwhelm you tonight, my darling.”

  “But you haven’t.”

  “And I won’t… I promise. I will do everything in my power to make this more than simply tolerable for you.” He hooked a hand over his shoulder, fisted the back of his shirt and dragged it over his head. It landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.

  My mind was wholly side-tracked from our peculiar conversation by the sight of his exposed upper body. The gold and orange hearth shadows danced across his perfect flesh, highlighting every sculpted muscle on his wide chest. It licked over his tightly balled shoulders and defined the power beneath his trim waist. He had a neat carpet of coiled chest hair, spreading thinner from the centre of his chest to his small nipples and then down, in a tapered line, towards his navel before thickening and dipping below the waistband of his breeches.

  He watched me looking at him. “You can touch me, Elizabeth,” he said in a low, murmuring voice as he stepped closer again. “I am yours to touch the same way you are mine.” He reached for my clenched hand and with slow movements splayed out each one of my fingers so my flattened palm was an inch from his chest. “Touch me,” he said, his gaze boring down as his hands dropped to his side. “I want you to.”

  I nibbled at my bottom lip and pressed my hand slowly forward. As my palm connected with his fire-hot skin my fingers were instantly surrounded by dark hairs that curled around each digit, gripping me, holding me to him. They weren’t soft hairs but neither were they crisp, they were strong, well rooted, springy. I ran my fingers over them and my heart raced as I sensed the potent muscles lurking beneath. I let the hairs move like a tiny tide until my index finger found his cocoa-brown nipple, small and tight like a bead it rolled under my inquisitive circular movements.

  I heard him catch in a breath and absorbed his shiver through my palm. I snapped my hand away.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I asked, acutely worried there was an unspoken rule about touching men’s nipples.

  “No, my darling.” A hint of a smile played with his wide mouth making it all the more sensual and kissable. “It just feels so good to finally feel your hands on me.”

  His gaze dropped to the hollow of my throat. I was sure he would see my rapid pulse beating a wild tempo beneath my skin. “It’s my turn to touch you now,” he said quietly.

  His concentration dipped lower to the creamy flesh below my collarbones. I tried to control my breathing, rake in some control of my breasts which were heaving against my nightgown, shifting up and down as if bursting to be free.

  I swallowed. My mouth was dry

  He reached out and with his thumb and first finger pulled at the dewy green ribbon keeping my chest decent. Like a gift unravelling, the silk glided from skinny loops and coiled around his fingers. I felt the flimsy material slacken around my ribs and spine, in a second there would be no tension to hold my gown in place, it would gape recklessly.

  I fluttered my eyelids shut. The air of the room felt cool on the centre of my hot chest and my nipples tightened beneath the cotton, twisting into hard points.

  I heard Darcy swallow. Heat from his body radiated onto mine as he stepped closer and I was enveloped once again by his musky, male scent.

  Finally the ribbon was free. Darcy rested his hands on my shoulders, slipped his fingers under the gown and slid it down my arms. The material dropped away, falling not just to my waist but all the way to the floor, leaving me standing before him in just my drawers.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered. “You are more beautiful than I could ever have imagined—simply exquisite.”

  I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was studying me the same way I had him, absorbing the shifting mounds of my breasts, the curve of my waist and the slope of my hips. His eyes sparkled and he had a slight inclination of his head as he bestowed his entire attention onto my body.

  He reached forward and brushed over my nipples, each in turn, with just his knuckle. The little stalks bent under his touch then jutted farther as a sudden, overwhelming rush of blood in my chest doubled their weight. It was as though my whole breast was throbbing with need. I snapped in a breath and held it deep. I wanted him to touch me again. It was a real, alive need. A new want that was all consuming.

  He captured my gaze for a brief moment, then stooped, dipped his head low, and in a quick, efficient movement took my right nipple into the hot, wetness of his mouth.

  I gasped at the unexpected, new sensation and thrust my hands onto his shoulders for support, my knees and spine suddenly ridiculously weak. All I could concentrate on was his tongue rolling around my nipple and his mouth’s increasingly demanding suction. It was the most delicious feeling I had ever experienced. I pushed my fingers through his hair, mussed the thick strands further and pressed him to me encouragingly. He swapped his attentions to the other nipple and a quiet sucking noise filled the room as he treated it to the same luscious nibbling and licking. His hand found the breast he had left, cooling as his saliva dried. He took the weight of it into his palm, squeezed and moulded it with his fingers, gently pushing and releasing and filling his hand over and over with me. I released my breath in a sigh, the feeling of being so physically adored by Darcy was more wonderful than I could have ever expected.

  His kisses travelled upwards, exploring my neck and behind my left ear sending a tickle across my scalp. My hands slid to his hard chest as he loomed back above me and encircled me in a tight embrace.

  “You taste simply divine,” he murmured, giving a rare smile that tilted not just his lips but also the corners of his eyes. I had never noticed the tiny lines that shot from his eyes to his temples before, but then again Darcy wasn’t prone to outward displays of mirth on a regular basis.

  His fingers tripped down the indent of my spine and involuntarily my back arched towards him. My nipples caught in his chest hair at the same time as his inquisitive fingertips hooked into the waistband of my drawers. I gasped, suddenly besieged by nerves. This was it. Soon I would be utterly naked. I scrambled my hands to his arms and gripped hard, braced my knees and rounded my toes in the rug to secure my balance.

  “Elizabeth,” he said, seizing all movements. “Are you quite all right?”

  “Y…yes,” I managed, fluttering my eyes shut, the intensity, the passion in his face was too much to absorb.

  “You look vexed.”

  “I’m perfectly fine. Please carry on.” I kept my eyes shut and clenched my teeth, steeling myself for what awaited me.

  His arms dropped.

  His body heat disappeared.

  I flicked my eyes open, desperate, despite my hesitation, to have him physically close once more. He marched towards the chair, scooped up his cravat and strode back to me with a determined glint in his eyes.

  He held up the cravat in both hands. The flickering glow of the fire made the emerald-green shine like a molten gem, lustrous and shimmering. “Turn around,” he ordered.

  I wavered.

  “Turn around, Elizabeth,” his voice softened. “I give you my word this will help.”

  I did as he asked and spun to face the darkening windows. My heart thudded. I did not know how long it could continue its rapid beating.

  “Close your eyes again.”

  His scratchy chest touched my back but I kept my eyes open. His hands appeared over my shoulders, one on either side of my head then he sank the cravat towards my face. Soft darkness surrounded me as silk slid against my cheeks and forehead. Instinctively my eyelids dropped. “But…” I started.

  “Shh…” His lips pressed against my ear and his hot breath flooded down my neck as a knot tightened the material in place. “Just feel. Do not concern yourself with sight.”

  I lifted my hands to my face, not necessarily to remove the cr
avat but to regain some control.

  “No,” he said, quickly snagging my wrists in his big fingers. “Keep it on. I will remove it when it is time.” His lips pressed down on the top of my head and he pulled me further into his chest. “Trust me,” he murmured into my hair. “I beg of you.”

  I swallowed, though my throat and neck muscles were so tense it was quite an effort.

  “Do you trust me, Elizabeth?”

  I could never hope to free my hands unless he decided I could, but I did trust him, totally, so I nodded, once.

  “Excellent.”

  He moved around to my side, dropped my wrists then tangled our fingers. “Come to bed.” He tugged with a firm grip and I had no choice but to follow thither. My feet left the warmth of the rug and I padded across the cool wooden floor. I couldn’t imagine what a sight I must look with my green makeshift blindfold and wearing just my crisp white drawers.

  But I didn’t have time to think about image because the next thing I knew Darcy had one solid arm under my legs and the other circled around my waist. He swung me into the air seemingly without exerting an ounce of effort.

  I let out a shocked exclamation which he silenced with a hard, closed mouth kiss. I reached for his shoulders but as soon as I had purchase I was lowered onto the meltingly soft blankets of our marital bed. Deep and luxurious the silken sheets embraced me and moulded to my behind as several velvety petals tickled my skin.

  “Lie back,” he ordered.

  I did as he asked this time. Shifted a few pillows so I could settle then listened as first one then the other of his boots banged onto the hard floor. I heard the rustle of material and guessed his breeches and undergarments were also being discarded.

  An uncontrollable shiver rattled deep in my body. It had nothing to do with temperature for the room was perfectly warm. Jane and I had never talked about anything like this before, never discussed having a sense removed during the act of lovemaking. Was this odd desire something Darcy would always insist upon or was it simply for our first time together?

  The edge of the bed dipped and my body naturally rolled towards his heavier weight. Again my lack of vision caused me to gasp in surprise.

  “Shh,” he said, his lips a whisper above mine. “No need to be uptight, darling. It will be quite all right now.” He kissed me, like he had by the fireplace, sensually, thoroughly, with a deep, confident tongue which searched the depths of my mouth.

  I felt the tremble reduce and in its place the hungry tug in my belly began to grow again. I wanted him to touch me, satisfy the need I couldn’t describe in eloquent words. I arched towards him, sought his body out with mine. As if reading my unspoken signals his hands explored my breasts once more, teasing and tweaking my nipples until they were as hard as they could possibly go.

  I let out a small moan; I hadn’t meant to, it just erupted from my throat. He stopped his kissing and I sensed another infrequent smile. His hands travelled lower and his weight shifted down the bed. Once again he curled his fingers under the waistline of my drawers but this time I didn’t shake or quiver.

  “Lift,” he said into the quietness.

  I tilted my hips and with ease he removed the thick material of my new undergarment, dragging it over my knees and looping it from my ankles. Air circled my hot skin and I pressed my thighs together, acutely aware of my exposed female hair and a newly released lavender scent which swirled around us.

  I waited for him to touch me, or say something, but he didn’t. Instead he settled back down beside me and pressed his lips to my cheek. “Just feel,” he said. “Let your body dictate what it desires.”

  With effort I lay still. My toes curled, knees clamped and fingers flexed. I registered the fire spitting as a log shifted. A stable dog barked in the distance. Then suddenly, out of nowhere a floating tickle attacked my belly. It wasn’t his finger, it was too thin, too light, it was something else. I scooped in my muscles, parted my lips and went to flick it away.

  “Hey,” he said with amusement in his voice. “It’s only a feather.”

  “Oh.” I forced myself still and pictured him dangling one of the long, diaphanous black feathers over my pale naked body. He began to draw lazy patterns, swirling and tickling his way across my stomach. He floated it to my breasts and rotated the tip around my eager nipples. I felt a smile take shape on my lips, the sensation was quite pleasurable. He could do this for as long as he wanted.

  He tracked it higher, over the sensitive skin of my neck, breezed it across my cheek and top lip and then down my arm to my hand.

  From my fingertips the feather travelled southward. Twirling past its origin on my belly, it laced over my left hip and onto the swell of my thigh.

  My muscles froze.

  He kissed the tip of my nose and murmured, “Listen to your body.”

  I reached up, found his face and pulled him down for a kiss. My action didn’t interrupt the feather’s movements and it continued its investigations. It dipped down onto my sensitive inner thighs then up and over the other leg. It swirled towards my intimate hair, brushing over soft curls in a gentle combing action. Then it dipped, just the curious tip, straight down into the tight juncture between my legs.

  Its unexpected, impossibly light touch there, in my secret place, sent a shock wave through my body and I couldn’t suppress the shiver that snaked up my spine. The sudden whack of desire for more sensation took over entirely. My tongue must have stilled because Darcy stopped his kissing and I sensed him observing me; though I couldn’t be sure if it was my flushing face or my trembling body that had captured his attention.

  Then the feather was gone and in its place the tips of his fingers. Gentle but resolute, they traced the path the feather had taken resulting in a trip over my thighs, a tickle into my pubic hair and then a dip into the slash of my feminine flesh.

  I squirmed and tugged at my lip with my teeth.

  He kept his finger there, exerting a gentle pressure on a spot that was crying out for more. The sensation was so new, so exciting. I fisted the sheet, squeezed my legs tighter and was glad of the blindfold for reducing my self-consciousness in the brazen act.

  “You’re so hot,” he said breathily onto my cheek. ‘So soft and so hot.’ He pressed his body into me and I was aware of the hard length of his erect manhood prodding my thigh. Silken skin on a rod of steel, I wondered what it looked like. I wondered if it was as unfeasibly large as it felt.

  “Open up for me, Elizabeth. Let me in,” his voice vibrated into my ear and down my neck.

  I forced my thighs to relax a fraction and his finger dipped further into my damp folds of flesh. He began to drag a lazy circle around the hard nub straining for his touch. The movement was as exquisite as it was teasing. It was as though all my senses had journeyed to that one spot, and they were greedy, hungry senses demanding more pressure, more speed. My back arched and I pressed my head into the pillow. I dropped my thighs apart quite wantonly and let out a strained sigh. I knew I should consider my appearance but it felt too good to be concerned by such trivia.

  The top of Darcy’s head tickled my chin as he bent to kiss my breasts again. He picked up the pace and touched me harder. I couldn’t bear the thought of him stopping. Brilliant splinters of light collided in my dark world creating an amazing display of rainbows. The sound of my breath whooshing in and out of my lungs was deafening combined with the blood pounding in my ears. He was taking me somewhere I had never been before. A great wave of pleasure was going to rip from deep within me. Any second. It was building like a stack of bricks. I couldn’t control it. How did he recognise what I needed so badly when I hadn’t even been aware of it myself until minutes ago?

  Suddenly he withdrew his ministrations. Removed his fingers from my shaking body, and shifted on the bed.

  I could not help my whimper of frustration as I searched him out with my blind eyes. “Darcy,” I panted. “Where are…”

  “Shh, my darling.”

  His voice came from dir
ectly above me and I realised he was settling himself between my legs.

  “This is the best way, I promise.” His long hard thighs nudged mine wide apart and the hairs on his hot body connected with my chest and stomach. His dense weight pressed a portion of air from my lungs as he lowered himself over me. “You can have this off now,” he murmured, lifting the cravat up and over my forehead. “I want to see into your soul as we make love for the first time.”

  I blinked in the dim light of the room as my eyes adjusted. Darcy was looking down at me, a strained expression sharpening his handsome features and hollowing out his cheeks. I reached up, cupped his scratchy jawline and smoothed my thumb over his soft bottom lip. I was still buzzing, still humming; it was as if a piano key had vibrated between my legs sending musical notes of the most beautiful resonance right to my core.

  He propped up on his elbows and shifted his hips, taking the majority of his weight off me.

  I dragged in a chest full of air and felt the smooth round head of his erection prodding at my entrance and kissing my unusually wet womanhood. My muscles wanted to spasm at the thought of penetration but I forced them to remember the delicious sensations of moments ago and cajoled them into relaxing.

  He slid into me, just an inch.

  So wide. So hard.

  I balled my hands into fists and pushed against his shoulders, a sudden panic poured into my being. This would never work. We wouldn’t fit, he was too big. If that was just the tip we were in serious trouble.

  He curled his hips under some more, entering me higher. The delectable reaction to his earlier touch departed as swiftly as it had arrived? This joining pained me, it nipped and it stung like a swarm of angry bees in the flower garden.

  “I beg you to forgive me,” he said, pressing his lips to mine as he dropped the words into my mouth. “Hurting you is not my intention.”

  I turned my head to the side, dragging my lips from his. “No more,” I pleaded, pushing harder at his collarbones. “No. I can’t.” I shoved again but it was no good, he was like trying to move a stubborn ox.