A Million Different Ways (A Horn Novel Book 1)

by Dangelico, P.

  I grabbed the base firmly and heard a quick intake of breath. The muscles of his thighs turned to stone. He tasted clean, a trace of soap and his own unique male musk. I started sucking strongly on the sensitive tip, scraping gently with my teeth as my hand moved up and down with a slight turn of my wrist. He caressed my hair with such gentleness it was a credit to his superior control. His breathing grew rough, erratic. I pressed my tongue on the frenulum and his jaw locked, his brows pinching together in concentration. On a deep thrust, he slammed into the back of my throat and my eyes watered.

  “Thank you,” the words said so softly that I almost didn’t hear them.

  His head was thrown back, eyes shut, the look of pure ecstasy on his face. I felt a surge of triumph when he moaned; this was a man quiet in passion. All of a sudden, he gripped both my arms and hauled me up like I weighed nothing.

  “I have to be inside of you,” he demanded, breathing roughly. Then punished me with a bruising kiss. For what? For taking away his control? I nipped his bottom lip and drew blood. Startled, he pulled back, wiped the blood off with his thumb and inspected it. His expression transformed instantly. A predatory smile split his face and the air around him crackled with a charge. I stepped back, aware that I may have unleashed something I was too inexperienced to handle.

  I felt the cool scrape of rock on the backs of my legs, my shoulder blades grinding into the rough surface as I lay back. Bracing his weight on his muscular arms, he bent over and kissed me passionately, lifted my hips to his and positioned himself. The anticipation was exhilarating. I wrapped my legs around his waist, mooring myself to him. Before I could feel his invasion, he paused and looked into my eyes with an expression I didn’t understand, couldn’t fathom. The moment expanded, filled with meaning. His gaze held mine as he sank into me, the thick slide of his manhood filling me until I couldn’t take any more.

  “Jesus Christ…you have to get used to me,” he said, a trail of slurred words I could barely understand.

  My body yielded slowly to his, unaccustomed from the long stretch of abstinence, though it felt excruciatingly good––every inch of him. He teased me mercilessly, rocking deeper each time, withdrawing almost all the way. I grabbed his rear end, my short fingernails digging into his smooth skin, and pulled him closer. He shook his head, denying me. Then, just as I was on the verge of shedding tears of frustration, he hauled me up onto my feet and turned me around.

  “Put your damn hands on that rock and don’t move them.”

  There was a hard edge to his voice that made my spine tingle in excitement. His warm body cradled me from behind, and his possessive hands held me closely. Reaching around, he sifted through the soft patch of curls, and touched me where I was aching for him. I came undone in his hands, my body no longer my own.

  “Is this what you want?” The question didn’t necessitate a reply. He thrust his hips quickly and held steady, ripping a scream of satisfaction from my throat. My long hair wrapped around his hand, he pulled my head back until I could feel the warmth of his breath near my ear. “Is it?” he repeated in a seductive whisper, then licked my throat and sank his teeth into the curve of my neck.

  “Yes!”

  Withdrawing all the way, he entered me slowly this time. The pads of his skilled fingers stroked me with certainty, with dexterity that comes from experience. Even in my present state, something I didn’t fail to notice. I was bunched up, desperate for release, but he kept it from me, just out of reach. And then his whispered words reached through the drift of pleasure.

  “You can come now, Vera.”

  Knowing what I needed better than I did, he drove his powerful body into me hard and deep, buried to the root. It shattered me, the orgasm so intense I blinked repeatedly in an effort to push back tears. On a harsh exhale, he dug his fingers into my hips and pulled out, his come spilling onto my lower back.

  I was listless in his arms while he held me tightly, both of us quiet. Only the sound of our heavy breathing filled the air. He kissed the side of my neck and placed his cheek on my shoulder. I leaned back into him replete––and more at peace than I could ever remember feeling.

  We stood like that for a long time, until he turned me around and searched my eyes with a seriousness that made me uneasy. What was he looking for? Signs of distress? I was too emotionally and physically drained to think straight.

  “Come on.” Another demand, although his voice had softened. Taking my hand, he pulled me into the lake and proceeded to wash the evidence of his lovemaking off of me with such tenderness I could hardly breathe, a heavy weight suddenly sitting on my chest. I felt him trace the rough scratches the rock had inflicted on my back. “Does it hurt?” he murmured.

  “No,” I answered, meeting his gaze over my shoulder. “It feels good.” Because it did. I felt alive, anchored in my body.

  “You’re coming back to my room.”

  I blinked in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? There’s a house full of people, somebody could see us.”

  The relaxed sated look of a man well pleasured vanished. In its place there was an imperious scowl. He grabbed my hand. I tried to resist but he held on firmly and tugged it to his lips. His eyes never left mine while he kissed my palm, each knuckle on each finger, and bit my thumb. I sighed, my legs trembling as heat converged bellow my waist again.

  “You’ll come back to my room, or I will follow you to yours. And Vera, I promise you, I won’t be quiet.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  We snuck in through the French doors of his office, padding alertly through the halls like couple of amateur thieves. When I stepped into his bedroom, it started to hit me; what we had done, what I had started. I turned around and found him leaning up against the closed bedroom door, his arms tucked behind him, bringing all the well-developed muscles of his shoulders and chest in startling relief. A smile teased the corners of his mouth and his eyes were hooded with a sensual sulkiness.

  My God, you…are…stunning.

  “You look nervous. Having second thoughts?” he asked, dry amusement in his voice.

  “Second, third, fourth. I shouldn’t be––”

  He pushed off the door and reached me in two strides. Lifting me off the ground with ease, he held me tightly to the solid mass of his chest and hid his beautiful face in the curve of my neck. He was breathing hard. “Nothing has ever felt more right to me.”

  My body started a slow slide down that outlined every swell and curve of him, and brushed against the impressive erection tenting his athletic pants. He gripped my head and held me in place for more of his passionate kisses, trying to convince me with his body and his mouth of how he felt. Dazed by lust, I barely noticed when he grabbed my much-abused nightgown and lifted it over my head. I followed without objection as he pulled me towards the bed. But when he sat down and his glazed eyes roamed over my nakedness with an all-consuming hunger, I stiffened self-consciously. I felt vulnerable, at his mercy. He held all the cards and I had declared myself along for the ride when I followed him to the lake.

  “Please turn the lights off.”

  His gaze returned to mine, measuring my discomfort. “Why are you embarrassed with me? I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I could stare at you forever.”

  There it was…the absolute truth, shining openly in his eyes. And it robbed me of the ability to speak. This man had enough women lining up for him to wrap around the planet. It seemed absurd that he would choose me. I know I’m attractive but I’m also a particular type. Too skinny, large eyes and lips (sometimes too large depending on my weight) to be considered classically beautiful. So if one likes that ‘look’ then I’m your type. And if not, then I’m as far from attractive as the Sahara is to the Amazon.

  He gripped my hips and pulled me between his legs. But instead of kissing me, he closed his eyes and placed his lean cheek on my chest, over my heart. It shocked me. I stood there with my arms suspended in midair, unsure what to do. I was prepared for scalding, take-no-prisoners
sex from him. This vein of tenderness though…I didn’t know where it was coming from. There was a stabbing sensation in my stomach and a dull ache near my heart. I wrapped my arms around him. One hand grazed up and down his spine while the other scraped gently through his hair. He squeezed me tighter and shivered under my touch.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this since I found you crawling along the floor of my house,” he said, exhaling deeply.

  My smile wouldn’t stay down. “This? Really?”

  “Among other things.”

  “As I recall, you weren’t too pleased to find me ‘crawling around your house’.”

  “Darlin’, I found you on hands and knees. It’s a good thing it was dark or you would’ve seen exactly what I was thinking.” His loose American accent had an immediate effect on my female parts.

  “Sebastian?”

  “Hmmm.”

  “How did you know…I was in the library that night?”

  A long pause. “Roses. But something deeper, sexy.”

  “You could smell me?”

  “Hmmm, It’s been making me crazy, couldn’t work, couldn’t sleep at night thinking about it. What is that stuff anyway?”

  “Body oil. It’s just…body oil.”

  I could feel his smile on my skin, the soft shadow of his beard brushing my breast, the warm suction of his mouth on my nipple. I inhaled sharply. “Are you sore?”

  “A little.”

  He lay down on the soft quilt and pulled me down with him, my pliant body sprawling on top of his. I stared in wonder while he played with my hair. Who was this affectionate man? I didn’t recognize him at all. “How long has it been?” He held onto my chin while his eyes searched mine. He wouldn’t let me look away, leaving me no place to hide. I was an easy read for him.

  “A long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Long enough that I’m a little sore.”

  “How long?”

  The bossy aristocrat was back––at least it was the kinder version. I blew out a resigned breath. “Six years.” The last time I saw Aleksander, before he boarded the train for Brussels and left me at the mercy of a pack of wolves. Sebastian’s hands stalled on my shoulder blades.

  “Vera…how many lovers have you had?”

  I struggled, tried to escape the steel circle of his arms, but he was an immovable force. “How dare you. That is none of your business. Let me go! A thousand…four hundred and fifty five! How many have you had?!!”

  He had the effrontery to chuckle as I struggled in vain. “Too many to count––and it is my business. You are my business. Besides, I already know you’re inexperienced,” he claimed, a hint of smugness in his voice. His sensual lips returned to the delicate skin of my throat, soothing me into submission, until I ceased to struggle. Frankly, I couldn’t resist him if I tried. One touch, one sweet word, and I was putty in his hands.

  Breathless, I asked, “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve never seen anyone blush so easily.”

  I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Great.”

  “Makes me hard as a rock. If you had any idea what I want to do to you every time I see it, you’d run out of here screaming.”

  His audaciousness made me laugh and his expectant gaze coaxed an admission out of me. “One…before you,” I grumbled. Nothing I was proud of––I was practically thirty years old for goodness sake. Clearly, I had quite a bit of living to do.

  “So… I’m two?”

  “Yes.” The heavy silence that followed had me wondering if it bothered him.

  “I’m honored.”

  I glanced up again and found him staring with the same profound intensity that always made me shrink away, afraid that he could read my thoughts. But he captured my lips before I could, and kissed me until sense and desire stopped waging war in my mind.

  “I need you,” I said practically whining.

  He worked me up quicker than I wanted to admit. Until I was begging him to ease the emptiness––before I actually expired from it.

  “Shhh,” he whispered, and let the weight and warmth of his body calm my nerves. “Slowly, or you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” There was no arrogance in his tone, only tenderness and concern. When he flipped me onto my back and pried my thighs apart, I tensed, instantly shy again.

  “Let me.” This was not a request.

  It was impossible to hold onto any sense of modesty. He arranged me spread open for his inspection, tasted me in licks, and nibbled the tender skin inside of my thighs as he worked his way north to where a fever of epic proportion was growing. His skill and stealth chased away all rational thought, all my awkwardness. My muscles tensed and bowed as he feasted on me, licking and blowing on the sensitive nub still tender from all his attention earlier, and finally drew an orgasm out of me so violent I thought my heart would stop; my uninhibited scream echoing throughout the room. I heard a drawer open and close, the sound of foil ripping. My eyes fluttered open to find him standing with his legs spread apart and his sex jutting up aggressively. He looked larger than life, determined…hungry.

  “I need to be inside of you,” he said as he rolled on a condom.

  It was a simple statement of fact. Absolute. As was his need for oxygen or water. There was no negotiating and no doubt. Yes, yes, my mind begged silently. I breathed a sigh of relief when he positioned himself between my thighs. Pieces clicked into place naturally; a familiarity that comes from time shared we didn’t have. I wanted to melt into him, disappear altogether. I felt strangely complete––odd, because I’d never noticed that part of me was missing. He shunted deep and exhaled harshly, my aroused body welcoming him.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t,” I reassured him, urging him on with a nudge of my hips.

  His lust filled eyes squeezed shut for a brief moment. He rocked his hips gently, gradually increasing the force of his thrusts. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him deeper. His eyes, drunk with pleasure, watched me closely, capturing every twitch and moan. “Open your eyes. I want to see you when you come for me,” he purred. The intoxicating sweetness of his lovemaking made it impossible. Every time my body quivered, on the brink of rapture, he held steady, leaving me coiled tightly on the edge of release. “Don’t come yet,” he ordered. I was strung out, exhausted. A tear escaped my eye and ran down my temple. He kissed me and licked the tear away. “Mine,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Sebastian, please.”

  Driving into me deep and steady, he pushed me over the edge. I broke apart with indescribable pleasure, my body vibrating from a seismic climax. In an unguarded moment, a look of amazement swept across his face. And then he joined me, reared up and came hard, the sinuous muscles of his backside turning to stone under my fingertips.

  “Holy shit,” he gasped between loud pants, “holy shit,” he repeated, before he buried his bewilderment in the curve of my throat.

  I wrapped my arms and legs around him, held him tightly. Because I knew what he meant. This was more than incendiary sex. This was something else altogether––something I didn’t want to contemplate. I was so spent I almost fell asleep with him still inside of me. He kissed me tenderly: my eyelids, the tip of my nose, my lips. When he pulled out, the sting made me whimper. I knew I was going to ache a whole lot more the next day. And in the drowsy afterglow, I didn’t care.

  The backs of my knees were…moist. Hanging in the air was the primitive scent of sex and sweat. A large muscular body pressed up against my back, branding me with scalding heat. Sebastian. It was all coming back to me now. His sex was wedged against my rear end, and a muscular arm thrown over my waist. I could feel the puffs of his deep and even breath against my hair. He shifted and pulled me closer, not sparing a millimeter between us.

  Surrounded by him, I had never slept better. However, I needed to get back to my room before the house woke up. I picked up his wrist and squinted at the large face of his Rolex. The darn watch had no numbe
rs on the dial. The large hand looked to be…

  “What are you doing?” Still drowsy, his voice was deeper and raspier than usual.

  “I can’t believe you let me fall asleep.” His rumpled hair and relaxed expression made him look young and outrageously sexy. “I worked you over pretty good,” the side of his mouth kicked up, “seemed like the polite thing to do.”

  “When have you ever been polite to me?” I was only teasing but his face fell, grave all of a sudden.

  “Vera…I…that’s over. I need to explain.” When I struggled to get up, he hugged me closer, his sex springing to life. My eyebrow shot up. “Be still,” he muttered.

  “I have to get back to my room!” I whispered forcefully. “What time is it?” Anxiety made me restless to get going. He checked his watch.

  “Three.”

  The rigidity left my muscles, my fretfulness allayed momentarily. I swung my legs off the bed, and almost immediately found myself on my back, pinned under two hundred pounds of aroused, hot-blooded man. His fingers cradled my skull and his erection pressed against my abdomen. My eyes fluttered as he shifted and hit me squarely where I needed him. Good God…He knew where all the buttons were. In one night he had mastered my body, knew it better than I did. I watched him struggle with something before he spoke.

  “I behaved like an asshole because…I didn’t like the way you made me feel.”

  My stomach sank, the euphoria fading fast. “Yes, I’ve heard this before,” I said with a touch of indignation in my voice. “You didn’t like finding yourself attracted to the housekeeper. Quite an inconvenience, I get it.”

  “No. That’s not it. Vera, look at me.” I turned my head and held his gaze. The disappointment, without a doubt, was apparent in my eyes. “I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. At first, it was just a physical attraction. I figured sooner or later it would just––I don’t know––go away, as I got to know you.”