by Tara Wylde
So far, each time we’ve made love, he’s been the one in charge. He’s set the pace, and I’m fine with that. More than fine actually. After all, I had a lot to learn. But for the past day or two, this little fantasy has been kicking around in the back of my mind, making me blush, even as it intrigues me.
Haunts me.
Taunts me.
Right here, right now, feels like the right time to explore it. Assuming my nerves hold.
Lucas watches me, confusion marring his perfect features. “Your turn?”
There’s no way in Hell that I can put my fantasy into words. I’m not that brave yet. Besides, actions speak louder anyway. Right?
Taking a deep breath that draws Lucas’s attention to my breasts, I stalk towards him, not stopping until there’s about an inch of space between his body and mine. I rise up onto my toes and cover his mouth in mine.
The moment our lips touch, we each fight for dominance. Our tongues clash, our bodies strain. This time I’m not giving in and I’m not afraid to fight dirty if that’s what it takes.
Mimicking actions I’ve learned from him, I reach between us and unfasten his jeans, pushing and clawing at them until they puddle on the ground around his ankles. His briefs follow.
His hands come up to grasp my breast through my thin t-shirt but I pull away and glare at him.
I’m running the show. The sooner he gets the idea, the better.
Comprehension slowly dawns and his hands fall by his side. His eyes blaze with curiosity and desire. Good.
Moving in close again I slowly shove his shirt up his torso, thrilling in the slow reveal of his long lean muscles. Built more like taut, muscular middle-distance runner, Lucas doesn’t have the heavy, buff bodies that so many women fantasize about, but I don’t care. I think he’s hot.
The shirt hits the ground and I take a step back and study my handy work.
Oh. My. God.
He’s never looked more stunning. If I could paint, this is how I’d captured him. With his hair gleaming in the sunlight, shadows chasing across his bare shoulders, and his cock at full mast.
Since I can’t paint and I doubt he’ll agree to a photograph, I commit the image to memory. I’m going to need it to get me through once our marriage contract expires and I leave him and resume my former life.
I shake my head, refusing to let thoughts of the future get me down. For the next six months, I’m going to live in the here and now. And right here, right now, the thing I most want to do is enjoy my prince.
I touch his stomach, letting my hand glide over the shallow hills and valleys created by his muscles. Lucas takes a sharp breath and quivers beneath my touch. Enjoying the reaction, I grow bolder.
My hand glides to his hip, slowly sliding it over it before my fingers brush against his cock.
It jumps in response to my touch, and my pussy spasms in response. I press my thighs together in an attempt to contain my own desire, while I study Lucas’s most impressive feature.
My fingers dance across his shaft, causing Lucas to groan. His legs tremble while I marvel over how something so solid can feel so soft. Steel encased in silk.
I wrap my fingers around it, thrilling as it pulses and grows in direct response to my touch.
Lucas throws his head back. His breath whistles between clenched teeth while his hands clench into fists at his sides. I had no idea I could have this kind of effect on him. The new sense makes me giddy with power and desire.
I massage his cock and think about my next move.
Following my instincts, I drop to my knees and gently wrap my lips around the tip, delighting in the salty taste. Above me, Lucas utters a guttural cry, his fingers tangle in my hair, his nails scrapping at my scalp. He likes this as much as I like his mouth on my clit.
Lucas permits my tongue a few curious swipes, before he collapses to the ground, the movement pulling him free of my mouth as he wrests control away from me.
His mouth covers mine in a soul plundering kiss. I lose count of his arms as he frees me of my clothing, not caring when cloth tears and buttons pop.
He rolls me onto my back, spreads my thighs, and enters me in a single unbroken move.
My body responds to his urgency. I arch my back, meeting him thrust for thrust. Pleasure, so intense it borders on pain, builds inside of me. My pussy clenches hard against Lucas, milking him for all it’s worth.
His moans and cries mingle with my own.
With one last powerful thrust that I feel all the way up to my eyeballs, Lucas comes, spilling his very essence into me.
It’s what my body was waiting for, and I shatter, my mind and body exploding into a thousand pieces as Lucas collapses onto me and we ride the last waves of ecstasy together.
Alexis
"You know, I could kill you right now." Tessa doesn't even look up from the box she's unpacking. "I don't even think I'd feel bad about it. What do you think Lynette? Shelly? Do you think she deserves to die?"
"What have I done," I ask as I survey the room which, according to Tessa, will eventually serve as the curator’s office, but which she's currently decided to use as a kind of base of operations while we get the museum up and running.
"You run off for a full week, are a few days late getting back, and you come back looking all ... tan and limber. Meanwhile, Shelly, Lynnette and I have been here, busting our butts trying to figure out exactly what starting a museum from scratch entails. So yes, I could kill you right now. Cheerfully."
Queen Lynette stands and walks towards me. The memory of all the different things I spent doing with her eldest child this past week flashes through my mind and I blush. There's no way I'll ever feel comfortable around her again.
She ignores my discomfort and brushes a light kiss across my cheek. "Welcome home. I'd love to hear all about the French Riviera, but I'm afraid I have an appointment I simply must get to."
With that, she drifts out of the room, leaving only a cloud of her subtle perfume in her wake.
"Okay, spill."
"Pardon?"
"Need I remind you of how I've spent the last week. The only thing that's kept me going the last few days is knowing that I'd be able to live vicariously through you as soon as you get home. So, spill. Now."
I glance at Shelly. My blush deepens. "I can't. Not right now."
"Shelly doesn't care." Tessa guides me to a chair. "She's having a rough week herself."
"Really."
She nods and Tessa jumps in with an explanation. "Don't tell anyone, but that piano master or whatever he's called. He and Shelly are doing a little more than playing piano, if you get my drift."
Thanks to my week with Lucas, I do. Probably better than I really wanted to.
I search my memory and call up a dim recollection of a narrow-faced man who'd hovered near my sister-in-law while she helped clothe me for the press conference.
"The trouble," Tessa continues. "Is that he's married."
"Oh." I don't know what else to say.
Shelly takes the chair next to me. "There’s something about him. I don’t know how to explain it. When we’re together, he’s the most romantic guy I’ve ever met. He even talks the way I imagine Lord Byron spoke. He’s never stops complimenting me, and bringing me flowers, and, oh, there’s about a hundred other things he does that are just so sweet. He’s as passionate about music as I am, maybe ever more so, and whenever we’re together, he’s just as passionate towards me.”
“I sense a but coming,” I say.
“Yeah. It’s hard to explain. When I’m with him, everything seems right in the world. But when I’m not, when I think about him something feels … off. Really off. I get a sick feeling like I’m being manipulated. I’ve tried ending things a few times, but,” Shelly rubs her forehead, “each time I try, he does something sweet and I give in. I wish I could hire someone to dump his ass for me.”
She shakes herself and pastes a force smile on her face and takes one of my hands in hers.
"
But enough about me and my depressing life. Like Tessa, I'm dying to hear how the honeymoon went. Are you and my brother madly in love?"
I stiffen. "Hardly."
The word love hadn't been spoken since that first night in the barn when Lucas made it very clear that he'd had no intention of ever falling for me.
Not that I haven't thought about love and all it means about a million times over the past few weeks. Each time Lucas did something spontaneous, such as attempting to make scrambled eggs, or sweet, like hand picking a batch of red poppies, tucking them into a vase, and setting them on my bedside table, it felt like a giant hand squeezing my chest.
With the arrogance stripped away, I really like him. I know that I'm in danger of falling love with him. And that it will – can – only end badly for me.
"This is a temporary situation," I remind Shelly and Tessa. "We're only staying together long enough for him to win this bet and for the press to be appeased. After that, we’re going are separate ways."
I don't know how I was going to get through that day. Or any of the following ones, for that matter.
"Okay, so you're not in love," Shelly says, "but did you at least make him forget that bitch, Sharon Peeters?"
"Who?"
"Sharon Peeters? Let me guess, my bonehead brother didn't tell you about her." I shake my head and Shelly purses her lips. "Figures."
"Sharon is the reason for all of his recent troubles. She's this stunning fencer who competes on Belgium's women's team. Really talented and super model hot. She's the same age as Lucas. How cousin Roderick started fantasizing about her when they were only about fourteen is beyond me. Anyway, just before the last Olympics, she makes a play for Lucas and he falls hard. Hook line and sinker."
My gut twists. I know Lucas has been with lots of other women, but the idea bothers me.
Hearing about this Sharon Peeters chick makes me want to find my husband, and plaster kisses all over his body while I work his cock deep in my body, proving to him that I'm all he needs.
Down, cowgirl.
"I didn't know about any of it at the time. After things fell apart, I found out that he told our dad that he was planning on marrying her."
"Obviously he didn’t," Tessa says.
Shelly shakes her head and tucks a lock of long dark hair behind her ear.
"Worse. The morning of the Olympic finals, she not only dumps Lucas, but also reveals that she's actually married to the guy he was about to face! Her whole relationship with Lucas was nothing more than a ploy to give her boyfriend an edge if he and Lucas faced off."
"And it did?" This must have been the scandal I'd remembered the broadcasters talking about.
"Boy did it ever give him an edge. He annihilated Lucas in one of the shortest matches in the history of Olympic fencing. I'll tell you, Sharon really did her homework and got to know Lucas because had she dumped him just five minutes sooner, he would have had time to process the what had happened. He would have killed her boyfriend, instead of just standing there letting himself get poked by a shiny stick."
"Poor Lucas," Tessa murmurs. "Women like that are the ones that ruin good men for everyone else."
"It's been over a year now, and he still hasn't recovered," Shelly says. "It's like she sucked all the life out of him. Except for fencing and marrying Alexis, he hasn't done anything spontaneous, fun, or that could be considered even a little reckless. He's all work and no play."
I don't say anything, but I wonder if I work hard enough, and really devote myself to Lucas, if I can help him recover from the heartache Sharon Peeters put him through. And I can’t help but wonder if this Sharon is the reason I can’t make my husband laugh…
I resolve that if I ever happen to run into this Sharon Peeters, I’ll let her know exactly what I think of her.
Alexis
"Hey, do you have a minute?"
I look up from a heavy oak cabinet I'm examining with a magnifying glass and smile at Lucas. "For you, always. What do you want?"
He reaches down and pulls me to my feet. I place my hands on the small of my back, stand on my toes, and arch my back, trying to work out some of the stiffness that's the result of spending several hours sitting on a hard floor while I carefully look over one piece of antique furniture.
The movement causes the thin tank-top I'm wearing to pull tight across my breasts. Lucas's eyes darken appreciatively. He continues to stare at my breasts as he reaches out and slams my office door shut.
"I came here with the intention of asking you to join me for lunch. We haven't spent much time together lately, but I've changed my mind. I have a much better idea."
That's all the warning I get before his mouth covers mine in a kiss that rattles my tonsils as it raises my blood pressure.
His big hands fumble between us, first unbuckling his dress slacks and then my work jeans. His fingers brush the soft skin of my lower belly. Shivers race up and down my skin.
I shove my jeans down my legs while he digs a condom out of his pocket and covers himself.
We're ready.
He buries his face in the space created where my neck and shoulder meet and he licks and chews at my tender flesh, igniting a fire that's now familiar, but still exciting.
I brace my hands on his shoulders and wrap my legs around his narrow hips.
He braces my shoulders against a wall, reaches between us to give my clit a good solid stroke that makes me moan while white-hot shafts of pleasure streak through my body.
“Fuck me, now,” I hiss into his ear. Part of me wonders what happened to the good little girl I was just a couple of weeks ago. But that part of me is squished in an instant.
Lucas doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips jerk in response to my command and his shaft drives into me with such force, my ass slams into the wall.
Even as the twin flames of passion and need turn into a raging inferno, a sense of peace and general well-being sweeps over me. Now that I’ve met Lucas and he’s taught me all about passion, the only time I really feel complete and at ease is when he’s right here with me. In me.
The rest of the time it feels like a huge part of me has been missing.
I don’t know how I ever survived before he came into my life – or what I’m going to do when our time runs out.
Someone knocks on the door. “Alexis,” Shelly calls out. “Are you in there?”
Shit!
I don’t want to get caught. That’s the only thought in my mind. The fact that Lucas and I aren’t technically doing anything wrong is irrelevant. After all, not only are we consenting adults, but we’re also married.
Still, it feels … not wrong exactly, but … I guess the better word is inappropriate. Maybe with a little irresponsible thrown in.
I need to get dressed. Maybe then I can convince her that her brother and I weren’t in the middle of … anything at all.
I unlock my ankles, letting them slide down Lucas’s legs and push against his shoulders.
He pushes back, pinning me even more firmly against the wall. The expression in his eyes reminds me of what he said in the first fencing lesson he gave me, “always be on the offensive.”
Apparently, he’s decided that they apply for sex as well as for fencing.
Keeping his torso pressed tightly against mine, he wedges a hand between us, his fingers finding my clit and slowly rolling it. My head falls back and my eye lids flutter closed. Lucas takes my mouth with his, swallowing my moan.
“Alexis,” Shelly calls out again. She reaches out and rattles the door knob.
“Strange,” I hear her say to herself, “I could have sworn I heard you talking in there a few minutes ago.”
If it were anyone else, my silence and the locked door would convince them that I wasn’t in the office and they’d go away. But this is Shelly. The one thing I’ve learned about her is that she’s nothing if not persistent. I wouldn’t put it past her to find a fire axe and cut through the door just to find out what’s going on.
> Reluctantly, I pull my mouth free of Lucas’s.
“Yeah, Shelly, what is it?” Forming words with Lucas rocking his hips and driving himself deep into my pussy until the tip of his engorged cock nearly penetrating my womb. At least that’s what it feels like.
There’s a pause. “Alexis, are you okay?”
Reaches up and rolls one of my nipples between his thumb and forefingers and my eyes cross. “Yeah, Shelly,” I swallow a moan, “I just … um stubbed … my toe.”
“Ouch,” Shelly doesn’t sound convinced. “Do you know your door is locked?”
Thank God, I think, I think as Lucas grabs my ass and adjusts my position.
“Strange. I’d open it but,” I struggle to remember the excuse I’d given.
“Stubbed your toe,” Lucas says. It’s not fair. He sounds calm and in control while I’m quickly flying to bits.
“Oh yeah. I stubbed my toe.”
“Right,” Shelly draws the word out. “That’s fine. You don’t have to open the door if you don’t want to. I just wanted to let you know that Tessa says that some things have come up missing and she’s not sure what to do about it.”
Lucas’s touches my clit, sending pleasure zinging through my body. My teeth sink into his shoulder, biting down hard until the urge to scream passes.
“Tell her,” Lucas’s body stiffens, he’s reached the point of release. My pussy quivers in response. I brace myself for the coming explosion. “I’ll be … there … as soon as I … finish taking care of my toe.”
I don’t wait for her response. Instead I turn my attention to Lucas and lose myself in the tidal wave of wanton sensation.
Lucas
“I can’t believe that just happened.” Alexis shimmies into her panties and makes a grab for the designer jeans I divested her of within seconds of finding her in her office. Alone. She gives them a quick shake, sending tiny dust particles dancing through the air.
I roll my eyes. I can put Alexis into fancy designer clothing, but I can’t keep her out of boxes of dusty treasures. “It was completely unprofessional.”