Gideon, Robin - Desire of the Phantom [Ecstasy in the Old West] (Siren Publishing Classic) (20 page)

When the orgasmic cataclysm had subsided, Pamela blinked
to clear her vision. She was gulping in air, her knees
pressed tight against Phantom’s ribs, her cheek against his,
her breasts against his warm chest, her pussy pulsing
around the solid cock that filled her.

“My, oh my,” Pamela whispered when at last reality
eked back into her consciousness.

She felt Phantom’s fingertips running along her curved
spine, touching her lightly from the nape of her neck down
to her buns. She raised her face just enough to look
into his eyes. What was he thinking? Had she been too passionate? Was it wrong for a woman to be that excitable? She did not know, and there was nothing in her personal
background to give her even the slightest hint of what was
right and wrong or of what Phantom might think of her
now.

His hands were at her hips, and he lifted her. She did
as he silently commanded, but then when she was about
to drop down upon him again, he held her solidly in place, the head of his cock still separating the lips of her pussy
, poised above him. At last, she looked into his
eyes questioningly. Phantom smiled, and Pamela could not resist
kissing his mouth quickly one more time.

“What?” she asked.

“My turn,” he replied.

He held her up and away from him then began moving
beneath her, filling her with his desire before moving down so that she nearly released him. Each time she
thought she had his rhythm down, he changed it slightly, and occasionally he seemed to enter her from a different
angle, adding to the friction that heightened her sensitivity
to him.

She’d thought her passion had been fulfilled, that she
could not be brought to such heights of ecstasy again, but
Phantom, moving smoothly, mysteriously, was proving
she’d been wrong.

“Ohhh,” she moaned when he grabbed her breasts, fill
ing his hands with them as his hips churned beneath her
at a constantly increasing tempo. The sound of moist flesh striking moist flesh was new for Pamela, and she found it profoundly erotic.

She could see the tension in his face, feel it in his hands
as he grasped her breasts. She wanted it all. She wanted
to take Phantom to that mysterious land of pure ecstasy he
had introduced her to. He moved beneath her, lifting his hips upward to drive the solid length of his cock to the hilt into her pussy, then dropping down to withdraw all but the tip of his knob from between her lips.

“Go,” she whispered, urging him on as he thrust up
into her, harder and deeper than before. “Go, my darling.”

As though the words had spurred him on, Phantom’s hips churned even faster beneath Pamela. She distinctly felt each plunge as he filled her and each retreat. Then his hands tightened on her hips, and he lifted her just enough to completely escape from her warm, liquid embrace. Pamela felt his cock, rigid and slippery with her juices, in the valley of her buns as her lover growled deep in his throat and his climax began. She felt the cum, thick and hot, splash against her back, leaving a slick line of cream from her shoulder blades to the small of her back. Phantom groaned as he released his passion, and Pamela shivered as she felt his cum landing on her back, her breasts against his chest, her love for him more complete now that he’d shown the decency to not climax inside her.

“Thank you, my darling Midnight Phantom,” she whispered, then kissed his sweaty shoulder. “Thank you for not climaxing inside me. Thank you for everything.”

In response, the Midnight Phantom started laughing.

Phantom was laughing, and it scared the daylights out of
Pamela.

Was he laughing at her? She didn’t want to believe such
a thing was possible. Could any man be so cold and heart
less that he would laugh at a woman just moments after
he’d taken her virginity?

He reached up to cup Pamela’s face in his hands, the light
in his eyes shining brilliantly.

“I know that was your first time. My darling Pamela,
you are a natural lover,” Phantom said softly, his thumbs lightly brushing Pamela’s soft cheeks. “You are exquisite.”

She was elated then. It probably wasn’t right for a
woman to be thrilled at such a thing, but she was—Phantom
had told her she was, and he certainly seemed to be a man who knew what he was talking about when it came
to lovemaking. His laughter, she now realized, was just at
his release of passion.

Before long, Pamela was smiling, too, and then she was
laughing. Yes, it had been exquisite, the lovemaking everything she’d ever
dreamed it would be and more.

Playfully, she slapped him on the chest, and he groaned
theatrically. The sound of her palm striking naked flesh
was a wet one, and Pamela only then realized how much exertion both she and Phantom had put into their loving.

“Was it really exquisite?” she asked, feeling mischievous
. She could still feel his cock against her buns, but she didn’t move. She wanted to keep him
there as long as possible, suspecting that she would never
again have this experience with him.

“Yes,” Phantom said. Then he grinned wickedly. “You’re
sure this was your first—”

Pamela slapped him on the chest again before he could finish the sentence.

“You know that’s true,” she replied, not liking the implication behind his words.

Immediately sensing the tenderness of the subject, the
smile vanished from Phantom’s face. He touched her face very lightly then let his hands glide down her throat to
her breasts to circle her nipples, hardly touching her flesh.

“Yes,” he confirmed in a whisper. “I know that’s true. And I can’t say what this has meant to you, but I can say
what it has meant to me, Pamela. It’s meant more than you know. You’ve been on my mind and in my thoughts con
stantly since I rescued you from Jonathon Darwell’s bedroom.”

She smiled, her confidence returning. “You’ve rescued me, but I’ve rescued you. Let’s not forget what happened tonight,” she replied, thinking about the guard who’d had
his gun trained at Phantom’s back.

“No, I’ll never forget that,” Phantom replied, and from
his tone it was clear he wasn’t talking about anything
but their lovemaking.

For several seconds they looked into each other’s eyes.
Then Pamela moved slightly, and his still-erect cock moved so that it was trapped between their bodies. They
both groaned, and the moment of tenderness evaporated.

“I’ve got to get up,” Phantom said. “My back is killing me.”

Pamela tossed a leg over him. Her knees hurt somewhat,
but other than that, she felt beautiful and healthy in a
dozen different ways. The pleasure she had hoped for had been
fulfilling, spiritually satisfying, the pain brief, minor, in
significant. Best of all, he’d shown the self-discipline to not climax inside her.

As Phantom got to his feet, she sat on his cape, pulling
her knees up to her chest then wrapping her arms around
her legs. She watched him in all his naked, natural splen
dor as he went to the pool, cupped the cool, clear water in his hands then drank it.

He’s so beautiful, she
thought then blushed. How many
times had she thought that since she’d seen him without any clothes on? A dozen? A hundred? Too many times, to be sure.

Pamela didn’t care. She had him with her, and as long as she did, she would gladly accept every bit of pleasure
offered by the evening and the masked thief who’d stolen
her heart.

Had he really done that?

Pamela was not inclined to dwell too long on this question.
She knew her time with him was limited. She didn’t even know his name, so how on earth could she possibly have
allowed him to steal her heart?

But she hadn’t
allowed
him to do that. He was a thief, the most charming and exciting man she’d ever known, and he’d simply stolen her heart, easily and effortlessly.

He didn’t steal it. It just happened.

Pamela immediately banished this disquieting thought
from her mind. There would be plenty of time later for doubts and recrimination. Plenty of time for remorse and
regret. Tonight, she was going to make the most of it and
be damned with whatever anyone else thought was im
proper!

Phantom walked back to her, his stride easy and loose,
and Pamela could tell he was completely at ease with his own
nudity. She hoped one day she, too, could be so free with
her own body.

“How do you feel?” he asked, kneeling near her hip.

The tenderness in his voice touched Pamela’s heart. “I feel
wonderful.”

“It wasn’t painful? You’re not sore?”

Pamela just smiled.

“The only lingering effect of making love with you is
an inability to stop smiling and an overall sense of well-
being that goes to the marrow of my bones.” Pamela ran a
hand over her leg and grimaced. She had perspired during
the energetic lovemaking. “And I need a bath.”

Phantom leaped to his feet so quickly that Pamela at first
thought Darwell’s gunmen had found them. But Phantom never
lost his grin, so when he extended his hand down to her,
she just looked at the offer questioningly. She wasn’t feel
ing at all energetic, preferring to sit quietly in the afterglow of their lovemaking in a quiet conversation with
him a rather than frolic about this oasis with him.

“You need a bath, and a bath awaits you,” he said, his
smile still in place, though fading. “I’m afraid I’ve made quite a mess of you.”

She looked at the long-fingered hand extended to her
then up into Phantom’s face. Pamela sensed that, by taking his
hand, she would once again be submitting her will to his,
and there might be ramifications to that, which at present
she could not see.

“You’ll feel most refreshed afterward,” Phantom said, his
hand still extended. “I always take a dip when I come here.”

Pamela wasn’t certain exactly why she took his hand. Be
fore long the light of a new day would be upon them. She wasn’t sure what she actually felt now about having made
love with him.

“Sooner or later, I’m going to have to learn to say no
to you,” Pamela said with a self-deprecating smile, taking his
hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet.