“No!
” It came out almost a shout and she winced. Jack felt sweat trickle down his back. “No,” he said again, more softly, working to make his tone normal through the sudden tight
ness in his chest. “Look, we can do without a rub—a condom. I can be careful.”
I hope
, he thought.
He’d always had complete control over his cock, though right now he was holding on to that control by his fingernails.
Caroline was silent, looking him up and down. She was struggling with something, and he gave her the time to do it. “You look healthy,” she said finally.
He blinked. “Absolutely.”
Healthy? Well, yeah. He couldn’t be more healthy. Right now, in fact, his rude good health was practically bursting through his pants. “Outside of injuries, I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”
She had turned a light shade of pink. “Because, um…well, the story’s this. I was under a lot of stress this fall. My brother was very ill, and I was so worried I sometimes forgot to eat and—” She stopped suddenly, her pretty mouth closing with a snap, as if realizing she was babbling. “Well, the upshot is that my doctor put me on the pill,” she said finally. “So we could—”
Whatever else she was going to say was lost in his mouth. Jack plunged both hands into her hair, to cradle her skull and hold her still for his kiss. Deeper, hotter than before. He licked his tongue inside her, dying for her taste, holding her head tightly as he angled his head for a deeper taste of her.
Her hands came up to curl around his wrists as he continued kissing her, almost desperately. He dropped a hand down to her narrow waist and pulled her tightly against him, widening his stance to bring her closer. She jerked a little as she
came flat up against his rigid cock. Jack broke the kiss though he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay here forever, his tongue in her mouth.
If it were up to him, they’d drop where they were, right onto the hardwood floor. He wouldn’t even strip her. Just rip a hole in her stockings and panties and shove his cock right into a cunt that would be as warm and wet as her mouth…
Jack groaned. He opened his eyes to look down at her lovely face. Her mouth was wet and slightly swollen from his, a light flush along her cheekbones. His hands had torn her hairdo apart, and her hair lay in gleaming ringlets along her shoulders. Her hair was the color of the red-gold flames in the hearth. He was vaguely surprised that her hair felt cool to the touch, the color was so like bright golden flames. The skull beneath the hair was warm, though. The rest of her was warm, too, now—finally. His arms were full of warm, willing woman.
His arms were full of Caroline.
He had to fight to keep his breathing under control.
They were going to fuck. It was official. He was going to fuck Caroline.
Bareback
, no less. He’d never had sex without a rubber in his life. The way he felt right now, he was probably going to die of sensory overload the instant he entered her.
“I think we’d better take this into the bedroom.” His voice sounded hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in days.
Her eyes searched his. “Okay,” she whispered. “The bedroom.”
Oh, yeah.
The quickest way to get her to bed was to carry her. He
swung her easily up in his arms and tried not to run for the stairs.
He had the instincts of a cat. He’d done a lot of mountaineering with the Colonel and in the Rangers, and he had superb balance. But when he held her in his arms, he felt his knees nearly buckle. It was insane. She couldn’t weigh more than 115 pounds. Going into battle he’d carried more weight than that in gear. Hell, he’d jumped out of planes carrying more weight than that. But it was as if a fever affected his system, making him weak and shaky.
He needed to get them to bed, fast, before he toppled to the floor with her and made a fool of himself.
Jack took the stairs two at a time and turned right at the landing. Lucky thing her bedroom door was open because he would have kicked it down if it wasn’t.
Putting a boot through her door was probably not a good way to start this.
Jack stopped by the bed and let her slide slowly down his body. She had to feel his hard-on, quivering with eagerness, leaping at the contact with her body. Probably people across town could feel his hard-on. He was probably interrupting radio reception with the waves of lust emanating from his cock.
What was she feeling? He couldn’t tell. Caroline stood quietly, passively, like a beautiful little doll, not moving from where he put her down.
For the very first time in his life, Jack wished women could be more like men. He wished Caroline had the female equivalent of a cock that would show him what she was feeling,
show him how much she desired him.
If
she desired him.
He wanted something big and obvious like a stiff dick, to signal clearly what was going on inside her—like maybe a red light on her forehead that blinked on and off.
But women weren’t like that. Their bodies were secretive, the arousal tucked away inside where you couldn’t see, hidden away in the recesses of their bodies.
The only way he could know what point she was at would be to touch her cunt, run his fingers around her opening, probe her.
Jesus, what if she wasn’t turned on? What if she wasn’t very wet? What would he do then? He already knew she’d be tight. A woman who hadn’t had sex for six years would be small.
It might be a problem. God, he hoped not.
He had a big cock. It wasn’t anything he was particularly proud of, it just was. Since he wasn’t the kind of man to compare dicks in locker rooms, he didn’t get any bragging rights about it. He just took it as a physical fact that pertained to him, like being tall. But his size and the fact that he was as turned on as he’d ever been in his life meant he’d have to be careful with her, though his self-control was shredding, turning more insubstantial by the minute.
Like right now, looking at her in the dim light of the bedroom. He’d left the lights in the corridor on, but hadn’t turned on any lights in the bedroom, so it was as if they were underwater in a faraway ocean.
The first thing anyone noticed about Caroline was her coloring, which was exquisite—from the ivory rose of her skin
to the golden fire of her hair and the silver-blue of her eyes. Now she was leached of all color, a vision in shades of gray in the soft, dim light. It didn’t detract from her beauty. If anything, it highlighted her pale, smooth skin and delicate bone structure. Her eyes were pale, almost colorless, as she watched him.
What was she thinking? He couldn’t tell. Her features were still, like a portrait of a beautiful woman instead of the living woman herself.
He was holding her by the shoulders, feeling the delicate bone structure beneath the soft silk of her dress. He moved his hand to the back of her dress, tugging on the tab of the zipper, pulling it down. It sounded loud in the silence of the room. He unzipped slowly, trying to gauge from her expression what she was feeling. The zipper ran to below the waist. Caroline stood as still as a doll while he opened the back of her dress.
With a slight movement of his hand, Jack had his palm inside the parted material, resting against the small of her back, where the skin was smooth and warm. Exerting a little pressure with his hand, he urged her forward.
Watching him, she obeyed the silent touch and stepped forward. She had to tilt her head back and as he looked down, he marveled at what life had brought him. Her eyes weren’t blue but silver in this light, wide moons he could drown in. Her mouth was slightly open, and her breathing was fast. He could feel the little puffs of air of her breath against his throat. She moved an inch closer to him, without his having to press against her back.
Yes!
He bent his head to her, stopping when she put a small hand to his chest.
“What?” he whispered, nearly in a panic. She wasn’t stopping him, was she? If this was a no, he was going to howl at the moon. He was swollen with longing for her. Not being inside her as quickly as possible was unthinkable. If he couldn’t slake his lust for her right now, it would probably cause him a permanent injury, leaving him hobbled for life.
“How did you know which room was my bedroom?” she asked softly.
Oh
fuck.
This was precisely the kind of mistake that could get you killed in the field. Jack had been undercover in dangerous places and with dangerous people. Keeping your cover story straight was a life or death necessity. Fuck it up and you die.
He controlled his breathing and gently removed her hand from his chest. His heart had given a huge leap at her words. He hoped she hadn’t felt it. He was thinking frantically, trying to will some blood back up into his head so he could reason it out. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Each time he touched her skin, it was a little shock to feel how incredibly soft it was.
She was looking up at him, unsmiling, waiting.
Jack pasted a sheepish smile on his face. “By smell.”
Caroline blinked. “By…I beg your pardon?”
“I have a very keen sense of smell.” It was true. He could smell explosives almost as well as the Labradors the service used. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone, down over the
long line of her neck. He bent his head and kissed her under her ear, sniffing loudly, like a dog. “You smell wonderful,” he whispered. “Like roses and heaven. I just followed my nose. The whole house smells a little like you, though there are food smells in the kitchen and dining room and the living room smells of lemon polish and woodsmoke.
“But this room—it smells like you and only you. I stopped where the smell was strongest.”
He’d pleased her. She smiled uncertainly. “That’s nice. I wonder whether maybe soldiers should use smell to orient themselves instead of compasses.”
He ran the back of his forefinger down her cheek, along the delicate jawbone, then fingered the neckline of her dress. “We do. Soldiers use their sense of smell a lot. I wouldn’t let my men smoke for two days before going on a mission, for example.” He bent and nuzzled his nose against the soft skin under her ear. “Though I must admit, I’ve never smelled anything half as nice in the Army as you.”
He could feel her lips turn up in a real smile against his cheek.
She was more relaxed now and tilted her head slightly so he could touch his lips to her neck. Jack realized she must have sensed his intense lust and been a little fearful. The fact that he could make a little joke, however lame, reassured her. Made her think he wouldn’t lose control.
He hoped to God she was right.
If this hadn’t been his own personal fantasy, if she were less beautiful, less desirable, it would be better. As it was, Jack knew his self-control wouldn’t last much longer. If he were
a gentleman, he’d take his time with her. Sit on the bed with her, talk to her, make sure she was relaxed. Calm her down. Spend a long time on foreplay. Make slow, careful love. That’s what a gentleman would do.
Pity he wasn’t a gentleman. The Colonel had drummed manners in him, and they’d stuck, but it was a thin veneer. He was by nature a predator, designed by blood to prevail no matter what.
Added to that was the fact that his biological father had been a nasty, brutal drunk and, knowing his father’s tastes in women, his mother had probably been a whore. The Colonel’s courtly ideas swirled in his head, but his father’s blood ran in his veins.
Jack had no experience holding back with women. He had no idea how to woo a lady. Actually, he had no experience bedding a lady, either. If this had been anyone but Caroline, he’d have been in her, fucking her, by now.
Jack ran his hand up the line of her back, sliding upward and around to cup her bra-clad breast. Caroline jolted.
His mouth was so close to hers he could feel her breath in little spurts, the uneven breathing of someone under stress. “Are you nervous?” he whispered.
She cleared her throat. “A little,” she confessed.
“Don’t be.” In a second, he had her bra undone, and his hand was cupping the soft roundness of her breast, his thumb rubbing the nipple gently. He could feel her heartbeat, fast and light. He had to ask. “Are you scared?”
“Of you?” Caroline pulled back a little to look him in the eyes. “No.”
His breath came out in a whoosh of relief. “That’s good. Because I won’t hurt you. I promise you that.”
“No.” Her eyes watched his, mouth uptilted in a faint smile. “I believe you.”
Jack ran his hands up her back and moved to her shoulders. Slowly, he pushed the open dress off her shoulders and watched it drop to the floor, together with her bra.
She was almost naked, with only black panties and black lace-topped thigh highs and black heels. It was like some fantasy vision. Jack thought he’d built up his memories of Caroline over the years into a woman too beautiful to be true. As it turned out, his memories didn’t do her justice.
Jesus, she was so beautiful it hurt the heart. Pale, perfect, so delicately built he was almost afraid to touch her. Something about his expression must have worried her because the anxious look was back in her eyes. Though she didn’t raise her hands to cover herself, her shoulders hunched, as if to somehow hide her breasts. He needed to say something to reassure her.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, then winced. “Ouch. That wasn’t quite how I wanted to say it, sorry.”
Somehow it worked. He had made Caroline smile. “Thanks. It’s not the most elegant of phrasing but…thanks.”
What point was she at? He needed to know.
Jack knelt before her, placed one delicate foot on his thigh and slowly rolled the stocking down her leg. God, this was a fantasy scene, too, calculated to drive any male out of his mind with lust.
Her legs were long, slender without being skinny, with the
smallest most delicate ankles he’d ever seen. In a moment, he’d removed shoes and stockings.
Jesus, even her feet were gorgeous. Small, pale with an elegant arch.
Jack had never been adventurous in bed. Once he got the woman in bed, his usual style was to climb on top and put it in. Once he was in, he could stay for hours, but he wasn’t much for the fancy stuff. He rarely went down, rarely was on the bottom. Meat and potatoes sex, that was his style.