“Hardly.” He took a breath and flexed himself, feeling seams give and the costly fabric tear. In a moment he was free and he flung the useless garment aside. Elisa backed up a step more as he approached her. “Nothing you could do would stop me from reaching you,” he promised.
“If only I allow it,” she returned.
His smile broadened. “We shall see,” he promised her and lunged for her.
She skipped out of his way, the hem of her gown flicking across the soft chamomile growing by the banks of pool, leaving him empty-handed.
He studied her a moment where she stood close by the flat rock where he usually lay in the sun, spinning dreams. She would be cornered if she backed up a little further, he realized. He took another step toward her and she stepped back. Quickly he moved to trap her between the rock and the trees behind it, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her to him.
She reacted quickly, but not quickly enough. Her tiny fists flailed lightly at his shoulders and she tried to push and pummel her way out of his grasp. Her wriggling put pressure on his already taut groin and the friction set up an aching, needy throbbing. He tightened his grip on her with one arm and sought to capture her chin in his hand. Her struggles didn’t subside even when he brought his lips upon hers. His fierce kiss contained little passion, for it was intended to control and subdue. Yet at the taste of her lips, he could feel his excitement leap and coherent thought start to tear apart. The need to slake himself grew swiftly stronger, blotting his mind of all other concerns.
Even the resistance of her hands and the straining motions of her body against his carried their own excitement. God, but the woman was driving him beyond endurance! So swiftly was he reaching that point…what was her magic?
Elisa’s hand lodged against his shoulder and she gave a hard thrust, hard enough to dislodge his hand from her chin and for his hold around her waist to loosen. Quickly, she pulled herself from his arms.
She stepped away, her breasts rising and falling swiftly, her breath ragged. Her eyes were a little narrowed.
“You dare…!” she murmured, but there was a hint of challenge in her voice.
“Enough,” he declared. “Play time is over.” And he reached for her.
She took another step, but he had no intention of allowing her to continue the game. His body would not allow the torture. Swiftly, he snatched her up in his arms, holding her tight. Her hands beat their small tattoo on his shoulders again, which made tackling the fastenings of her clothes more difficult.
With a curse, he bent at the knee and lowered her to the chamomile lawn, then captured her wrists in his left hand, leaving his right hand, his lips and body free to pleasure her as he wished. To quell her struggles he threw his thigh across her hips which added a delicious pressure to his groin. Her hips pushed against his thigh.
He reached up to the long row of buttons on her bodice, but his hands were thick with pounding blood, clumsy. With forced patience, he attacked each tiny button, unhooking it, knowing that the release of each one brought him a little closer to seeing the bounty he knew lay beneath. He pushed the bodice aside and grew still, looking down at her, his breath catching.
She was bare beneath the bodice. Her perfectly formed breasts, adorned by tightly crinkled nipples, were exposed to his gaze, to his hand. She was still, watching his expression, judging his reaction.
“And the skirt?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“The skirt only. One button is all that stands in your way. Nothing else.” Her own voice was just as husky.
The groan he uttered was pulled from the depths of his soul. He lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking it. She bucked hard against him, a small gasp sounding as she threw her head back. He took advantage of her movement and slid his hand beneath her waist to flick open the single button. The skirt loosened and with impatient tugs he removed it and flung it away. He removed her bodice, too, leaving her completely naked.
She was the picture of femininity. Her waist was tiny, her hips flared and curved down to long, shapely legs. He studied the thatch of blonde hair at the apex of her thighs. His shaft throbbed.
Moving quickly now, he turned from gazing at her pale, flawless figure to kiss her deeply. He tugged at his breeches. “Elisa, I cannot wait a moment longer. I must have you. Now.”
“Yes,” she breathed and the single confident whisper was another sensual stroke to his aroused emotions. He at last freed himself from the breeches and his cock jutted, swollen and proud. Feeling his heart beat thundering in his temples he slid between her thighs and probed for entry, almost clumsy in his haste.
Her sweet thighs parted and he was enfolded in her flesh. With a gasping groan he thrust into her. Her channel was tight, gripping his cock with a hard caress.
Elisa’s head fell back and her whole body lifted, her hips thrusting, as she gave a low cry of feminine satisfaction. The sound was a goad.
He was too close to the edge, he realized, with a tinge of amazement.
He clenched his teeth together, clawing for control, for finesse, as he thrust deep within her in hard, driving movements, his fingers curling over her hips. But Elisa was too powerful a goad.
With another deep thrust he climaxed, with a powerful surge of pleasure that ripped from his toes and tightened every sinew in his body. He threw his head back, as the waves of sensual delight pounded through him. His whole body was locked into stillness, wracked by the tremors.
When he could draw breath once more, he released a shuddering sigh and propped himself up on one arm.
Elisa was watching him still and he could see the signs of her own excitement in the redness of her flesh, her open mouth, the frantic pulse beating visibly at her throat, just by the sharp, delicate curve of her jaw.
He kissed the pulse, feeling heat and sampling her bouquet with a delighted in-drawn breath.
“You seemed…hurried,” she murmured.
“That I was,” he assured her. “You drove me to that haste, Elisa. You, with your perfection and sensuality. You are unique. But don’t worry—I will take care of you in a moment.”
“Take care…? You mean, like yesterday?”
He smiled. “Did you think to halt here and leave me still wanting?”
“But that is my pleasure, not something that you would want.” She licked her lips, confused. The tip of her tongue touching her reddened lips was a tiny pleasure of its own.
Her coyness delighted him. She may have been married, but she was virtually untouched and completely uneducated to the joys of lovemaking. What a treasure!
“But…you have spent yourself,” she managed.
He thrust his hips a little, for he was still resting inside her. He let her feel him. He was already swelling, stirring, tingling with renewed vigor thanks to the heat and touch of her body.
“Spend myself and leave you wanting? Only a cad could consider it,” he assured her. He fitted his hands around her waist and rolled on to his back, bringing her with him, still joined.
She gasped a little as she settled against his hips. He was still buried deep inside her. He lifted her hips, showing her how she could ride him for herself and she quickly found a rhythm that made each stroke a breathless joy. He reached up to cup her breasts as they swung a little with her movements and she caught her breath.
The sight of her straddling his hips, her sweet body taking him in, her long flowing hair lifting a little in the breeze…already he could feel the inevitable moment racing closer as he watched her enjoyment mount.
He slid his hand to the juncture of her thighs, to the slip between the flesh to find the tender pearl there and stroked. She gasped, her head rolling back. Her hair trailed down to brush his thighs. Little shivers of pleasure ran through him at the light touch, a counter-point to the deep waves of excitement building in him.
Her rhythm grew faster but her smooth motion faltered a little. Her growing excitement was destroying her concentration.
She looked at him, a little startled, her eyes wide and her breath ragged. “What is it?”
“You, my dear Elisa, are far too much woman to suit my equanimity. You are a sweet tease…far too sweet.”
“I do not understand,” she confessed.
“If we were to continue, I would spend myself a second time and leave you disappointed.”
“Oh…” and she smiled a little, his meaning suddenly clear to her. “Should we rest, then?”
“Not at all.” He lay her on the fragrant chamomile and kissed her swollen lips, his tongue exploring the warm taste of her mouth. Her hands were in his hair, caressing his back and he wondered if she was aware of their restlessness, of the pressure they were applying to bring him closer to her. Elisa had an untapped sensuality—and he was responding to it with rare potency.
He kissed his way down to her belly, laving the indentations beside each hip with his tongue and her hips lifted in response. Her legs moved restlessly as his lips moved onto the creamy flesh of her inner thighs.
“Vaughn, what do you intend now…?” she began. He lowered his mouth to her mons and slipped his tongue inside the folds to stroke her heated, swollen nub.
She gasped and her hands buried themselves in his hair, clenching tight. “Oooh…!” she gasped, and he delighted at the sound, knowing from her reaction that no man but he had ever done her this service before. He caressed her with his mouth, and slid his fingers into her channel. He stroked and played the flesh there, feeling spasms and ripples of excitement pulsing through her. Her breath was coming in tight little gasps, faster and faster. Her whole body was quivering, shifting under his ministrations. He could feel the peak of her pleasure building and coaxed her to that point with every skill he had learned.
Elisa climaxed, a screaming gasp locking her throat and her body tightening into a stillness that seemed to spin out for an eon. She shuddered, waves rippling through her. Her hands tightened convulsively against him.
Her pleasure was intoxicating. He was responding to her even without direct stimulation. Once more he marveled at the effect she had on him.
Finally, the surge ceased and her body went limp. Elisa licked her lips, her eyes heavy lidded with languorous satiation.
He lay down beside her and stroked her soft skin—gently, without provocation, allowing her to recover. She rolled on her side and her legs entwined with his own. Her heart was beating a thousand miles an hour…like his own.
He looked down at her upturned face. Her eyes were closed, a soft smile on her lips. She was a woman who’d been pleased.
With a sigh she opened her eyes and smiled. “My bones have melted.”
“Good,” he murmured.
“That is what you meant when you said you could give me even more pleasure?
He smiled a little at her curiosity, which held no taint of coyness or fake prudery. “That is what I meant,” he assured her. “It will serve?”
“Oh yes!” Her lips curved in a glorious smile. “Only…” She blushed deeply. “Until this moment I believed I was experienced in the ways of men and women. I thought I was a wicked woman because what I knew of these things left me unhappy—”
“You mean unsatisfied, do you not?”
She bit her lip, considering the question. “Yes, but Vaughn, you must believe me when I say that I did not know all of it. Until yesterday, I did not know of this, that I was capable of…climaxing. Is this something that every woman can experience? Or is it just the women that men call whores that do so? Is that why they are whores? Is that why men seek them out?”
His laughter came from the bottom of his belly and it felt and sounded like good laughter—bereft of any of the cynicism that had colored it of late. “Elisa, my sweet, I believe that all women are capable of what you just achieved, but many, many of them will never experience it because they will not open their minds to the possibility. They think it wicked and will not consider it.”
“Yes, I know many women like that. Most of the women I know are like that. I always thought…” and she paused, a frown puckering her brows. “I always thought there was something wrong with me, that because I found the little experience I had with my husband not enough to…satisfy me, that I was…perverted.”
“You are a delight, Elisa. How could that be perverted?”
“Men have tried to…seek me out.” She looked up at him from under her brow. “I know what they say of me, Vaughn. I thought that I was truly a whore and that was why they sought me.”
He could feel the distress behind her simple words.
“Yes, they call you whore and worse, but it is just a name, Elisa. Just a name that comes easy to their lips. I believe that men can sense you are capable of enjoying yourself and that makes them eager to experience it with you.”
“It does?” She was startled by the idea.
“Certainly. Oh, they may not understand this themselves, but I know that I enjoy making love with you because you enjoy it yourself. It is not an odious duty to you.”
She lifted herself up on one elbow. “Truly? You do not think less of me because of it?” She was watching his face, missing nothing.
He took a deep breath. “Truly, Elisa. I do not think less of you. More, if anything. Far more than I believed a month ago.” And he realized he was speaking the utter truth.
She continued to study him carefully for a moment, then visibly relaxed. A slow smile curved her beautiful lips. “I see,” she said.
And he knew that she did see, that she understood intuitively far more than their simple conversation encompassed.
She glanced over her shoulder towards the pond. “I believe I will bathe.” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but came slowly to her feet and walked toward the water, completely uninhibited. He stared at her backside, her heart-shaped buttocks, her long legs, her beautiful back. As the water lapped around her ankles she turned to him with a smile. “Come, join me.”
She didn’t have to ask twice.
Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, nuzzling her neck. His hand captured one breast and he rubbed his thumb over the upright nipple. She gasped, with a tiny catch in her throat, then gently pushed him away.
With a sweet laugh, she walked further into the water, then plunged beneath the surface. A moment later she emerged at the other side, her hair—dark now it was wet—slicked back off her face, showcasing her fragile beauty.
He followed her, the cold water taking the breath from his lungs. But at least it helped to ebb the fire that burned within him. While she paddled in the water to keep herself afloat, he found he could touch bottom. He pulled her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his hips, her smile wicked as she pressed her breasts against his chest. He lifted her higher, taking a rigid peak into his mouth, laving it, suckling hard.
She shifted and impaled herself on his still rigid cock, gripping his shoulders as she ground against him. The motion washed water around her neck, so he moved forward a few paces until they were in shallower water and he could control her movements. He held her hips and thrust into her with slow strokes. Despite the coolness of the water, he was responding with the same overwhelming reaction as before. Her newly released inhibition was a glorious coercion.
He thrust deep and hard, the primal need driving him to the delicious pinnacle once more. It was a powerful need that bound his body and mind. She must have sensed it, for at that moment she pushed away from him with a little laugh and climbed back onto the bank.
Water streamed from her as she turned and looked at him. She did not beckon to him, but her stance, the small smile, were beacon enough and he found himself emerging from the water, moving towards her.
He reached for her but she pushed on his chest a little. “Wait,” she murmured, her h
ands on his chest. Her lips replaced her hands. Soft butterfly kisses dotted his chest and down his stomach, which clenched tight as she fell to her knees.
She moaned low in her throat before she took him into her mouth. Vaughn’s head fell back on his shoulders. His hands drifted to her shoulders, clenching as she suckled him. She was not an expert, but she could read his responses and very quickly learned what was the most effective—her lips encircling the swollen head of his cock, slipping wetly against the sensitive ridge of flesh; the teasing stroking of her tongue against the tight ridge of flesh on the underside of the head; sucking strokes, little flicks of the end of her tongue against the tip. He opened his eyes and looked up at the blue sky. If she did not stop, he would lose control.
“Elisa,” he said, the words coming out strangled.
She clenched his buttocks with her hands, pulling him closer to her.
Finally he pushed away the slightest bit. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with a passion he was becoming to know well.
“Enough,” he said, drawing her up to him. The feel of her soft body against his hard one was exhilarating.
Perhaps sensing his eagerness, she coaxed him to the ground, to lie between her thighs. Her legs came up around his hips. She looked up at him, her expression one of complete surrender. He entered her with a single hard thrust.
Her mouth opened with a soundless gasp as he buried himself to the hilt. He began to move and she along with him.
He tried to hold on, keeping his movements slow, but it seemed she would have none of that. She clenched his buttocks, pulling him closer as she lifted her hips in a rhythm that would have him spent long before planned.
“Take me,” she whispered in his ear.
That was all it took. With a savagery he’d not known he possessed, he thrust harder and still harder, until she moaned loudly. As she squeezed him tight, he came with a ferocity that left him trembling.
* * * * *
Later that afternoon as Elisa slowly dressed and arranged her hair, she glanced up to find Vaughn watching her. He sat on a nearby rock, already dressed, his eyes dark with an emotion that she was beginning to recognize as passion.
Forbidden (Scandalous Sirens) Page 17