Passion Over Time (9 page)

His head lowered, his lips blazed a trail of fire over her collarbone and down to capture a pebbled nipple. His tongue circled the stiff peak, hot sweet moisture that melted every bone in her body. Her head fell back against the wall. Another mewling, pleading sound escaped her and her hips thrust forward, her sex pressing against his well-muscled leg of its own volition.

He suckled her and she clutched his head, moaning uncontrollably. The weight of his erection pressed her belly, making her achingly aware of how empty her cunny was. Her channel clenched and her honey flowed, drenching her, preparing her for him. For his hardness, his bigness.

The warmth of his mouth left, and cold air hit her nipple with painful effect. He lifted his head. An urge to beg his return rose to her lips but she bit it back. Balling her fists, she resisted reaching out for him.

The conquest should have been hers. She should be on her knees at this moment, with his cock nestled in the back of her throat, driving him mad with pleasure. Imprinting herself indelibly on his memory for all time. Instead, she was the one quivering with overwhelming need.

She hated him for this. Indisputably, she did.

“Beth, you’ve a choice to make. You can go and get dressed and I’ll see you sent home.” He set his hand on the base of her throat. “Or you can stay where you are and be thoroughly fucked against this wall.”

At the power he displayed, heat pulsed through her body with such stunning force, nothing else mattered. There would be ample time, later, to hate him.

“Look at me, Beth.”

She opened her eyes. For God’s sake, must he talk it to death? Why didn’t he just do it?

“What’s your choice?”

The nervous flutters in her belly released into a laugh as he backed away. The unhurried motion of his fingers moving along the buttons on his fall set her trembling with anticipation.

“Now, Beth,” he said, as he worked the last button undone.

She swallowed hard. Her heart hammering harder than ever against her ribs.

He lunged for her.

She gasped and backed against the wall.

His hands cupped her bottom, lifting her away from the wall. Lifting her up until her legs rode over his arms. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms tight behind his neck. Pray God he didn’t drop her. Fear tingled through her, heightening the excitement as he throbbed against her wetness.

“Plead for me,” he said hoarsely.

“Yes, you arrogant bastard, fuck me. Now. For God’s sake,
now
.”

He nipped at her earlobe. “Use my name.”

“Fuck me, Grey, please fuck me har—
ah!
”

Hands on her bottom, he pushed her wet heat down on his cock. Hard like iron, his erection filled her, stretched her. The suddenness, the sweet satisfaction of it made her cry out. He pulled her up until he came all the way out. The loss of fullness and pressure was devastating and she tried to push down but he held her firm. Then, ruthlessly, he pushed her down again, repeating all the intensity of that earlier moment. Delicious pleasure made her weak and she lay limp as a shudder passed through his body.

“God,” he breathed. His cock throbbed within her while he held still. Then he lifted and pushed her down and up on himself, slowly.

Just when she expected him to tire and rest, his movements built in speed. Over and over and over. Fucking her like no one else ever had. Using her. Controlling her. Providing her with the sensation of flying wild and free.

After a long interval of mindless sensation, she made an abrupt landing against the wall, her heart hammering so loud, she couldn’t hear his panting breaths that convulsed his body. He shifted and then thrust, his pelvic bone making maximal contact with her nub. White-hot sparks of pleasure exploded within her. His mouth covered her as she cried out.

His thrusts came shorter and faster until with a sudden, sharp inhalation, he withdrew. His cock pressed to her belly, surging as warm wetness jetted against her. An immediate sense of loss assailed her. She clutched his shoulders and sobbed softly. Her relaxed internal muscles tightened with a wistful regret because he had not spilled himself inside, leaving her all soaked and slick with his seed, marked and claimed. As his.

What madness.

He braced her against the wall. Moments passed with nothing but their panting breath. Her cooling sweat made her shiver and his lips grazed her temple. He murmured something. Against her belly, he remained hard. She hadn’t known it could be so for a man.

“Let’s lie down,” he said. Tightening his grip on her bottom, he carried her to the bed and laid her on it. He moved away and stripped his clothes off. Naked, he looked somehow taller, leaner, his shoulders and chest wider, his hips narrower. As he approached the bed, his face was all angles and hardness in the waning light that filtered in through the curtains.

“Where’d you learn something like that—like what we just did?” she asked, watching as he reached under his pillow and pulled out a linen towel.

He sat beside her and began wiping his seed off her belly and where it had rolled down the front of her thighs and mons. “You don’t really want to know.”

His light teasing tone practically begged her response. “Yes, I do.”

He grinned and a devilish light entered his eyes, making him look positively boyish. Then he shook his head and folded the towel over to a new, dry side and wiped her upper thighs.

“Are you going to tell me?” she demanded impatiently.

He traced circles over her stomach with a fingertip. “From a Russian princess, years ago when I was not much younger than you. She liked to play games, too.”

“Princess? Ha, she was not!”

“Well, now, she said she was…if she wanted to be a princess to me, who was I to gainsay her?”

A princess, indeed. Beth bristled all over. “Well, you needn’t sound so pleased about the matter,” she blurted.

She wished she’d have bitten her tongue clean through rather than said that.

He laughed softly. “Why do women ask questions they really don’t want answers to?” He lowered his head and kissed her belly. “Don’t fret yourself. You’re more beautiful than any princess I’ve ever seen.”

His tongue found her navel, flicking and teasing. She gasped as renewed lust flashed through her. But the import of what he’d just told her sank in. “You’ve really been to Russia?”

“My father sent me all over the world as a supercargo. I had to learn things they don’t teach at Harvard.”

“Such as how to fuck a princess?” Her words came out all snappish and inside she cringed.

He laughed and tossed the towel aside. “No, I don’t think he intended that. The only thing my father approved of was working and making a profit. I know he took an early evening at least once, or else I’d not be here, but other than that, his only pleasures were the counting house and the Exchange.”

“What did your mother think of that?”

His eyes grew shadowed. “I don’t know. She was a very frail lady and kept to her rooms. She died when I was six.”

Her heart contracted with empathy and she suddenly wanted to embrace him and cradle his dark head to her breasts. To offer him solace more tender than passion. Her mouth went dry and her belly fluttered with pure fear at this emotion. She quickly changed the subject. “I have never been farther than Baltimore.”

“If these damned wars ever end, perhaps I’ll take you for a tour of Europe.” He trailed his fingers over her cleft. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” she said, unable to keep the eager excitement at such a prospect from sounding in her voice.

He looked up at her, his eyes glittering with passion. “Then consider it a promise.”

Happy warmth suffused her and she laughed, pretending for the moment that he meant it.

They had a future together.

She could be his.

His lady.

She would dress in satins and silks and the finest muslins, make herself utterly beautiful, for him alone.

He would build her a grand mansion and together they would turn such a house into a true home together based on love and comfort.

Her secret dream.

No! I don’t care! I don’t need his wealth, or his grand mansion or to be a fine lady for him. I have no such foolish dreams!

Sudden queasiness forced her to take several uneasy breaths.

She’d never felt at home anywhere. She suspected she never would.

“When do you have to leave?” he asked, moving his hand low along her stomach.

“I should return by nine.”

“Then we still have time left.” He stroked her cunny with feathery motions, drawing her attention to how wet his gentle yet steady attentions were making her. “How many times can you come, Beth?”

“I don’t know…twice, three times maybe on the odd occasion.” Well, coming three times during the act had happened once.

She wasn’t sure she ought to have admitted this to Grey. His teasing touch distracted her though. Made her blurt things she shouldn’t.

Joshua had teased her mercilessly about the ease with which she could find her pleasure, calling her an Amazon. She had sensed the fear under his teasing tone and been puzzled by it. Deeply shamed by it too.

The message had been clear. Women, ladies or otherwise, were not supposed to find pleasure so easily or completely. Beth was unnatural. Always too wild, too impetuous.

“No.” Grey’s fingers slid into her slick channel. “I mean, how many times can you come before you can’t come anymore, before you’re exhausted and can’t move.”

“I don’t know,” she said, laughing to cover her sudden uneasiness at the question.

“There’s time. A man can make time.” He offered her a slow, sensual grin. “Didn’t you ever wonder?”

“Uh…umm…no.”

“It is a question that I’ve pondered often in the time that I’ve known you.” His fingers moved within her until her hips were dancing in tune with their motion. “I propose that we spend the remainder of the evening finding out.”

He pressed a kiss to the center of her sex, right on her most sensitive nub, and she gasped. Then he took hold of both her ankles, pulling her legs about his waist with such haste, she gasped again. His tanned hand stroked over her pale inner thigh with painful slowness, up to the soft hair at her juncture.

She realized that he, unlike her previous lovers, was giving her permission to show just him just how carnal she could really be.

He wasn’t going to be threatened.

He wasn’t going to judge.

Oh, his look of determination—he actually saw it as a challenge to see just how far he could drive her. A worthy challenge. It was his decision. He was in control.

She exhaled at length. Perhaps for the first time ever, she let down her guard fully in the presence of a man.

He traced the plump outer lips, parted them and then rubbed his cock against her throbbing bud in slow, silken circles.

But she didn't want to be teased. She wanted him as close as possible.

“Please.” She grasped his shoulders, seeking to pull him up level with her. “Please, be inside me.”

He slid to her entrance. “Is this what you need, Beth?”

“Yes…” Her breath caught for he was filling her. “Oh God…yes.
Yes!”

He took her then, the fast, furious pace driving her into a vortex of ecstasy. He put his mouth over hers and swallowed her cries of pleasure.

When she opened her eyes, he was kissing her breasts, laving her nipples with his tongue. He was still hard and pulsing within her. It began all over again. And again. Unending. He taught her a whole new meaning to the word stamina.

He took her slowly, gently. Then increased the speed and intensity of his touch and his thrusts depending on her need of the moment. He arranged and angled their bodies so that his lower pelvis stroked her sensitive nub with each downward arc of his hips. So that his shaft stroked her channel in all the right places. He drove her up, soared with her to heights of elation she’d never known. And eased her fall back to earth. He kissed and petted and fucked her until she couldn’t bear the intensity of pleasure.

She hadn’t realized a man could exert such control over his own body. That he could delay his own release so long and so well.

Despite his earlier assurances, the utter self-revelation about her own capacities and appetites became too much. When she attempted to shy away from such excesses, such ecstatic decadence, he took her by the wrists, held her to the bed and ruthlessly drove her. Until she arched up to meet him again and again, crying out his name, her whole body trembling. Until she came and came and came.

Until she absolutely could not come anymore.

Until she couldn’t move.

Having fallen back to the bed, she lay panting, her body covered in fast cooling sweat.

And she had no idea how many times she’d come. Numbers and pleasure did not seem to be compatible to her brain.

However, he hadn’t come. His harsh breaths sounded against her ear, his cock hard and pulsing within her. His scent, his taste, the feel of his weight upon her, it was so all-consuming.