by Stacy Reid
Chapter Eleven
Even with her face florid from tears, the sight of Phillipa, and her heartfelt plea, aroused Anthony more than any other woman. He felt shocked she would dismiss marriage to him, under the circumstances. No woman had ever looked at him with such naked physical need, and yet it seemed she did not share the same hunger for more.
Her rejection roiled within him like bad ale.
She could not know the anxiety that had gripped him when he thought he wouldn’t reach her in time. Or the terror when he saw her in the woods, thinking he was too late. Her dress had been torn, her face stained with tears, her lips swollen and bruised. The raw relief in her golden gaze at seeing his face had been worth the relentless pace he’d punished himself and his horse to travel.
Her misery over her plight punched deep inside him. Desire flared, but he tempered it, needing to offer her comfort with his touch. He began to remove his wet clothes. He did not stop to analyze the need that seethed within him—the urge to bind her to him, to experience the fire she vibrated with. He wanted to explore every curve, taste her skin, and immerse himself in her shuddering cries.
The dart of her tongue to moisten her lips sharpened the edgy arousal he felt. He shrugged out of his waistcoat and unbuttoned his shirt with impatience.
The overlarge gown slipped, revealing perfection to his eyes. She let it slide from her shoulders and it anchored at her elbows. The sleek, graceful line of her neck and the pertness of her breasts lured him. He pulled her to him until the tips of her breasts grazed his chest. He savored the feel of her almost-naked body so intimately close to him, loving her sharp inhalation at his touch.
Desire flowed through her eyes, along with an emotion that made him halt. She shivered and swallowed, and he realized she was afraid.
She leaned into him, resting her forehead against his shoulder. The rain drummed on the roof, the wood in the fireplace crackled, and embers sparked. And still she did not move.
He grasped her chin and lifted her face. “What is wrong?”
She regarded him wordlessly, her eyes fearful. She squeaked as he swung her up in his arms and strode to the bed. He tumbled her down then captured her slender wrists and held them above her head. “Tell me. What is it?” he demanded.
Her eyes smoldered and darkened with desire, but chilling reserve crept into them trying to dampen it.
“Do not shy away from me, Phillipa.” He kissed the corner of her lips.
“I have secrets,” she murmured. “Ones that may repel you from me.”
“You speak of the impossible, my sweet,” he assured her.
She tugged, and he released her wrists. She touched him as if unable to stop herself. Light caresses danced over his neck, his face, his lips, and his shoulders.
“I am not innocent,” she said softly. Her voice was a hoarse rasp, and she trembled in his embrace.
Something primitive tightened in his gut. The ice maiden was no innocent. He suddenly understood her aloofness, the iciness with which she looked at him, even now in her nakedness.
She expected judgment. Condemnation.
He felt neither. Instead, lust coiled around his insides, dark and inviting, and he welcomed it. He dipped his head, holding her gaze. He slanted his lips over hers, nipping her whenever her eyes fluttered. He wanted them open, so she could see the honest craving for her that lived deep within him. He was gentle, lips roving with soft teasing flicks instead of the hunger that gnawed at him.
He pulled away, leaving a hair’s breadth between their mouths. “Neither am I.”
The sweetest smile curved her lips. A groan whispered from him as he pictured them stretched around his cock. The tension slowly eased from her taut frame. She slid her arms around his shoulders, and with a contented sigh, opened to him.
He groaned as he delved deeper with his tongue to twine sensually with hers. Her hand gripped his hair, her fingers combed through it as she clung to him.
And he wondered who was the one being seduced.
Desire punched him, hard and potent. He reluctantly released her mouth. “If you want me to stop, say so now.”
“No. I don’t want you to stop.” She exhaled shakily.
He went straight for her breasts. His mouth covered a nipple that was ripe like a berry. He rolled it between his teeth before sucking. Her hips undulated, and her hot whimpers raked at his control. He nudged her legs wide and settled between them. Then gave equal attention to her other nipple.
Her cries became more frantic, her hands kneaded his shoulder, and nails dug into his skin. He released her nipple and trailed his fingers down her throat. He shifted and trailed them farther down, resting on her stomach. She quivered beneath him with restless hunger. He skimmed even lower, and her hands tightened painfully in his hair. He combed through her curls and delved into her with two fingers. “I knew you’d be this wet for me,” he murmured against her lips.
He thrust slow and deep, preparing her. Her eyes widened when he opened his fingers inside her, stretching her. Her folds were swollen and slick, and she felt impossibly tight. He trailed his fingers down the crack of her buttocks.
Her tongue darted to her lips hesitantly. “Anthony?”
He reined in the desire that twisted at his gut. He needed to slow down and introduce her to his darker passions gradually. He would take her in every way imaginable, but tonight he would start by riding her into boneless pleasure.
He stroked and caressed her until she was as needy as he was. Her hips squirmed on the bed, demanding his possession. He grabbed a cushion, easing it under her hips, then rose above her.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
He drew her up so her buttocks rested on his thighs. He parted her with his fingers, lodged the head of his cock against her entrance, and sank inside an inch. She felt incredibly tight, too snug for someone who professed experience. She rewarded him with a pulse of silken wetness and a provocative mewl. He sank a little deeper, and she stiffened.
“Relax,” he soothed. Her tightness had him gritting his teeth savagely.
The pale creaminess of her stomach quivered as she met his gaze. Her body resisted despite her slickness, so he ruthlessly stamped down the need to take her in one swift move. She claimed she was not innocent, but he guessed she had no knowledge of what innocent truly meant.
She thought the loss of a virginal barrier meant anything. As her lover he would devastate her sensibilities, and he would not hold back. He wanted to explore all his desires with her for he knew he wanted her as his wife.
He would not allow his bastardy to taint her or their children. He would crush anyone who threatened to allow it to surface.
He groaned as he sank another inch into her. He had never before felt the incredible sensation that arched up his spine and bowed his back. Hell, he was not even a quarter way into her, and he was perilously close to spending. His hips jerked and he sank deeper than he intended.
“Anthony!” Her nails bit into his arms and her hips recoiled into the bed.
“It will be quick.” He forged forward inexorably, needing to be surrounded by her heat.
Her cry echoed in the chamber, and he froze instantly. Sweat rolled down his forehead. He slowly glided out of her, his breath hissing between his teeth. His desire heightened as he saw how her juices glistened on his thick length.
He dropped his forehead against hers, trying to cool his raging hunger. He was not a small man, and he’d always been rough in his desires. But he wanted to give her more than pleasure. He wanted her to know that she would always be comforted, protected, treasured.
That she would always be safe in his arms.
…
Phillipa had never felt such yearning from mere kisses. Yet, she felt instinctively that Anthony restrained himself. The vitality he exuded seemed leashed, and even now she could feel the tension radiating from his muscles.
His girth made it hard for her to relax. The bite of pain with the pleasure when he entered her f
ully had enthralled her. She rolled her hips, undulating to a need she did not fully understand.
“Anthony,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t want to be a lover you have to hold back with.”
He froze and looked down at her.
So, she had been right. Her heart stuttered. She was swamped in carnal pleasure and he had been holding back?
Her nipples hardened even more at the look that darkened his eyes. She shivered as his hands tightened almost painfully on her hips.
“I have never felt the way I feel now,” she said with a gasp. “I can feel a heat from you, a craving, and I want it. I want it all.”
His eyes hooded, and she gasped again as he pulled out and shifted down her body. He dipped and sliced his tongue along her slit. His teeth grazed roughly over her aching nub, spiking a deeper desire into her body. He cupped her buttocks in both his palms, tilting her hips and pressing her core to his mouth. His kiss was deep and erotic. He held her under the lash of his tongue, soaking up the hot cries she could not rein in. He feasted, curling his tongue deep inside her, and she spasmed against his mouth.
She rocked against him, wrapped in steaming sensuality, breathless cries echoing from her lips. His teeth closed over her, and she moaned in complete abandon. He nipped her once, twice, three times, then sucked. Her back arched off the bed. Sweat slicked her skin, and desire roared through her. The muscles in her legs strained, she trembled.
Aroused curiosity licked at her consciousness as his fingers trailed her wetness in the crack of her buttocks, rousing nerve endings to life, teasing an entrance she never knew could be touched sexually. She met his wicked gaze and his slow smile had her shaking in need.
He brought his hands down sharply on her center, ripping a wail of tormented pleasure from her. Her mind hazed in shock at the savage feeling of lust that tore through her at the stinging slap that vibrated through her core. She jerked at the delicious friction, at the landing of a second slap.
“There are so many things I want to do to you,” he growled, hot lust firing in his eyes. “Things society does not approve of.”
Dark, dangerous need rose in her, and shivers of unending sensation racked her. She hadn’t known lust could be so powerful, so all-consuming, and she dripped with want. “You know how I feel about their rules.”
“I do, thank God.”
He parted her thighs, mounting her again, and plunged inside her in one quick, hard movement. Her lips opened but no sound escaped. Her breath strangled and her flesh burned as she adjusted to the thick invasion of his body into hers.
“Anthony,” she moaned.
He leaned in, sinking deeper, drawing a guttural moan from her. His fingers curled around her wrists, drawing them up around his neck.
“Hold on,” he commanded, her only warning as his hips recoiled and slammed home.
She cried out at the overwhelming sensation. He held her gaze, refusing to release her, and began to ride her in a deep, hard, beautiful rhythm. It was ecstasy, the most nerve-racking pleasure she had ever felt. She writhed beneath him, hips arching, craving to get closer.
She clasped his shoulders; her head thrashed. Her teeth sank deep into his biceps as exquisite sensations sliced through her body. He changed the angle of his thrust so he drove against her knot of pleasure. Her muscles clenched in desperation, and the need for something more fired in her.
“Anthony, more!” she cried. The pleasure was immense, consuming her control. She was tethered on a precipice of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. He slammed harder, deeper.
And then she screamed, splintered, and fell.
A relentless need burned Anthony’s eyes upon seeing her walls completely shattered. She couldn’t stop the whimpers and moans that burst raggedly from her lips. He groaned with each whimper, with each of her nips and bites, when she clenched and bathed his length in her pleasure. He arched her hips higher, and drove into her with even more hunger.
She exploded again, screaming and bucking into his thrusts, and he did not stop.
“Again,” he snarled.
He opened her wider to his thrusts, and she wrapped her legs higher around the middle of his back. Again ravenous desire filled her, and she sank into it. He drowned her in pleasure. He took her lips roughly; his hips thrust harder with every stroke. He swallowed her renewed cries, her second surrender, and held her tight as she trembled and spasmed. Then his orgasm hit, surrounding her, enveloping her, more powerful than anything she had ever felt, and a savage roar tore from him as their releases merged.
Chapter Twelve
Phillipa awoke slowly, her senses alive. Her skin tingled, and an erection prodded her from behind. The embers from the fire in the hearth barely sparked in the dimly lit bedroom. She started to turn and face Anthony but his hand stilled her. She remained on her side curved into his heat. He eased one of his legs between hers, and a finger probed at her core.
She winced. She felt sore. She bit her lower lip as he started to push into her. His hand snaked across her waist and delved through her curls. His thumb gently circled, and languorous pleasure swept through her body, making her flesh more pliant.
He forged in deep and sure, hips rolling to the rhythm of the rain that pattered against the windows. She should be cold with the fire dying in the room, but she burned. The pleasure was softer, sweeter than it had been over the past few hours in his arms. One hand caressed her breast, with fingers teasing her nipple, while the other remained rubbing her pleasure spot. With a final push, he sheathed himself to the hilt inside her.
“Mmm…” she murmured.
“Feel how hot and incredibly slick you are,” he muttered at her ear, his voice husky with arousal. “I love your sensuality, your passion, how wet you get for me.” He pressed a kiss against the base of her neck, soothing and arousing at the same time.
She whimpered, unsure how he knew. Even though so gentle, he went deep, and her core ached for him. His hip surged, and he picked up a rhythm that had her body weeping with delight. Sweat slicked their skin, and she gasped as he shifted his legs between hers, widening her a little farther, sinking deeper still.
She groaned, trembled, and pressed into his heat that curved behind her so deliciously. Hours seemed to pass as he rode her in the darkened bedchamber. He never increased his tempo and the heat spiraled slower, but was vicious in its intensity. Her release swept over her, scorching in its immensity.
He gently pulled out from her, her flesh almost unwilling to let him go. He was still hard and he shifted, adjusting himself.
“Are you not going to…?”
“No, I am contented.” He lifted her hair from her shoulders and pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder.
“Are you sure?”
“Phillipa, I know you are sore after our excessive night.”
She still wanted to please him, but she knew he was correct. He’d already loved her four times, and her thighs and inside her ached, and her flesh felt incredibly tender.
“Is there no other way to please you?” she asked.
“I am pleased. Sleep,” he ordered.
She thought about it, her brows furrowing in concentration. “When you place your mouth between my legs, I felt waves of pleasure. Would it be the same for you if I took you in my mouth?”
“Hell!” His muscles went rigid around her.
The idea unfurled within her and a smile bloomed. He said nothing save his curse, but he went harder behind her.
She turned and shrugged off the sheets. His eyes hooded, and she grinned. He did not stop her removing the coverlet. Fascination held her as she thought about him feeling as aroused as she did when he kissed her there. For the long night he’d been the one in control. He had kissed, licked, and pleasured her in ways that left her limp but always wanting more. And he’d always given her what she needed.
Now it was her turn.
Phillipa skimmed her hands over his firm abdomen, loving his body. His stomach and chest were rigidly sculpted. Hi
s body was beautiful. She kissed his stomach, reveling in his strength and heat. Anthony’s erection stood heavy and hard. She had thought to kiss his lips, neck, and body as he did hers, but instead she went straight for his length. She shimmied down, her hands resting against his muscular thighs. They bunched, and she felt pleased that he anticipated her touch.
Oh, yes. This would be as pleasurable for her as it was for him.
Phillipa licked him, a slow, sensuous glide that had Anthony’s stomach rippling. A groan slipped from him as he savored the wet heat of her mouth on his cock. Her hands fluttered to his chest, and she reared up as she touched and learned him. He inhaled deeply, to restrain his need, so he would give her all the time she needed to indulge her pleasures. And his.
She started tentative, curious. He watched, enthralled by the heated sensuality that darkened her eyes. Her tongue stroked over the broad head of his erection, and she suckled him slowly. She released it from her mouth with a wet, sucking sound, and he groaned.
Her lips trailed down the rigid length. His balls ached, and he almost shouted as her wet tongue caressed them. She noted his reaction and her feminine smile of lasciviousness enraptured him. She was bloody perfect. With his reaction guiding her, she licked his balls in broad, wet sweeps. Lust shivered into him and tingled up to the tip of his cock, flexing it. Her hair cascaded over her face, obscuring his view, and he gripped it, wrapping it around his hand.
Hell. He was drowning in the wet heat of her mouth. She scorched him with her carnality and beguiled him with the innocent greed she took him with.
With innate instinct, she released him from her mouth and crawled on top of him. Her body swayed with lush eroticism, and she straddled him with her hips. She straightened, and her hair rippled from his hand in fiery tresses.
She stole his breath.
Her nether curls glistened, and wetness seeped along her inner thighs. She gripped him in her hand, and he saw no reserve as she held his gaze and slowly sank onto him.