Persuasion (18 page)

had her belly quivering and with a shaking hand, she clasped him about the

other shoulder and pulled him closer to her.

A sigh slivered from her throat as he began to mate her with his mouth and

she responded in kind, with a quickening of her tongue against his. Even

though her senses felt almost inebriated, she focused on his actions and

gestures, wanting to please him as he pleased her.

Any thoughts of the outside world had now disappeared. With one simple

touch, he had her in his web and she never wanted to leave it.

His hand roughly swept away from her throat and down over the curve of

her body. Out of nowhere, she heard the rip of fabric and knew that the

chiffon dress, which when fully illuminated looked like an over-kirtle rather

than an actual robe, had been torn. He tugged at the heavier linen of her

chemise and pulled it from her body and then released her mouth from his

captivity and quickly shucked the whole covering from over her head and on

to the floor.

Nerves returned now and with a fierceness that had her shaking in his hold.

If he noticed, he did not mention it, merely gathered her tighter in his arms

before almost frightening the life out of her by pulling out of the chair and

then dropping to his knees with her in his embrace.

She shuddered as he half-crawled to the hearth and laid her before it like

some Roman offering to the Gods. The chiffon, now in rags, lay about her

limply but he did not remove her from its confines. He just looked at her,

but she could not watch him do so. She closed her eyes and let him have his

fill.

Only when she felt the faint touch of his hand against her breast did her

eyelids flutter open. She watched with parted lips as his fingers, so large in

comparison to her own, rimmed the shapely circle of the peak atop her

breast and beneath her gaze and his, it puckered strangely. Naturally, this

was not the first time it had happened but never before a man. She was not

sure if this was supposed to happen, but he did not appear to be disgusted

and so she relaxed a little and kept her eyes trained on him and his moving

hand.

Slowly, it shifted from her breast and down over her belly, where he

explored the silken expanse before trailing his fingers along the curve of her

hip and down along the line that led to her inner thighs. When his hand was

almost between her thighs, she had to fight everything that was in her to

relax and to not clasp and restrain his hand so as to forbid him entry. It took

every ounce of will power and somehow she managed to let him touch her.

She slowly released her pent up breath on a quivering sigh as he touched

the bristling hairs at the apex of her body and then, down . . . down . . .

down . . . .

Lily gulped. She could not help it. Her eyes were trained on the paneled

ceiling of the room as he touched her intimately, explored her most secret

parts and she found it difficult to be responsive when every part of her

longed to snap her thighs closed and hide this part of herself from him. No

matter how hard she tried, she could not relax into this new and strange

sensation.

Releasing deep exhalations every few seconds, she focused on anything but

his touch and only when he stopped and paused, did her eyes flicker from

their study of a rather pretty Oriental vase and back to his face. There was a

deep concentration there and he caught her eyes as he grabbed her legs by

the ankle and slowly but surely separated them as he simultaneously lifted

them upwards. She blanched and wondered what on Earth he was doing, but

he merely moved closer to her and then crouched down and on to his belly.

She frowned down at him and again wondered what he was about, and then

she noticed where the position put him, down there. She closed her eyes

and wished she could hide as Lily felt the petals of her sex being separated

by his blunt fingers and then came the . . . a stifled whimper escaped her as

something touched her and in a place she had not expected it. Curling

upwards on to her belly a little, she studied him with shocked eyes and

realized it was his tongue! His tongue!

Unsure of whether to be disgusted or aroused, she sank back to the floor

and sucked in another breath, which was quickly released on a moan as he

touched a special place that sent shards of pleasure through her body in a

most discomforting way. She flinched as his teeth nibbled that same place,

which she could only describe as a small hillock at the center of her

womanhood, before he suckled it.

Sweat began to bead along her forehead and more than that, it began to

course around her body. The combined heat of the close fire and then

sensations, the strange and unnerving sensations this man was inspiring in

her body, pushed her into perspiring. Lily felt quite disgusted at her body's

reaction, but not enough to protest or to tug his head away. Indeed, not.

She instead and shockingly spread her legs a little wider and rocked her hips

upwards. Almost as though it were the invitation he had been waiting for, he

sucked harder at that hillock, then darted it back and forth between his

teeth and tongue. His fingers explored her intimacy once again and this

time, there was moisture that eased their path. She felt him . . . his fingers .

. . inside her body. She was not sure how, all that she was aware of was the

sensations he was inspiring inside her.

Quivers and shivers and shudders racked her frame almost incessantly until

she felt almost as though she were being rattled to High Heaven! Her head

thrashed back and forth and her belly and hips undulated against his mouth,

against what he was doing to her. Suddenly, tension shot through her. From

where it came, she did not know but she fought it and it disappeared and as

it disappeared she mourned its loss.

It came again and her body instinctively fought it but her mind told her to

accept. Her heart told her to welcome it. But her body won. As his tongue

and teeth and mouth and lips worked in conjunction, that tension

reappeared and this time her mind and heart conquered. Delirious glee and

pleasure shot through her with the power of star burst and her thighs

clamped around his head as she arched in sheer abandoned excitement as

this powerful burst of sensation darted around her body.

Almost as though she were in another world, he pulled away from her and in

her heightened state, she cried out for him. Within seconds, he returned but

no longer at such a low height. He was directly above her. Where his head

had been between her thighs, now his hips were quite firmly entrenched

there. She cried out as another dart of ecstasy imploded in her belly and

suddenly, quite suddenly, there was hardness at the center of her being. Her

body reacted and stiffened but his penetration coincided with that ecstatic

burst of delirium and he thrust into her until she felt quite sure he had

pierced her belly.

Her body, now confused, rolled and undulated all the more as she fought to

accept this thing that was inside her. Her insides quivered and fluttered as

she battled herself and only when he began to kiss her, could she relax even

a little.

His hips rocked against hers and she whimpered, her eyes flaring with alarm

as she realized that there was more of him to push inside of her. Terror

fought with the lax pleasure that had once roiled through her, but his mouth

pressed her to distraction. Within seconds, he was panting heavily against

her shoulder, his . . . she was not sure what . . . completely embedded

inside her belly.

She felt slightly resentful that her pleasure had been so swiftly disregarded,

but the selfless part of her nature argued that he had caused her to feel that

wonderful, powerful, crest of passion . . . did he not deserve it too?

Biting her lip at the thought, she concentrated on relaxing around him, but

the more she attempted to relax, the more he groaned and she thought that

she must be hurting him. Hurting him quite dreadfully if the sounds were

anything by which she could go!

Lily herself started to pant, but with fright! She did not understand why she

should be causing him pain, but suffering he was. His mouth was biting

down against her shoulder and while it hurt, it was a pleasant sensation. Her

brother had bitten down in a similar way, when a physician had been called

to re-set his leg after a tumble from his horse . . . was she hurting him in a

similar way?

In apology, she stroked his back. Up and down, up and down. Massaged the

taut muscles clustered around his spine and then, rather daringly she

thought, the equally tautened and hardened planes of his buttocks. A flush

covered her cheeks as she did this, but she continued, wanting to do

anything to please him.

When it did not seem to work, she stared up at him, her eyes filled with

tears that were not of the crocodile variety! "Oh, please Dorian, I do not

wish to hurt you.”

The heaving torso suddenly stilled and his mouth relinquished its fierce bite

on her shoulder. She felt him readjust and his weight was redistributed to

his arms as he looked down at her.

What emotion was deep in his eyes she did not know, but he licked his lips,

then bobbed his head and licked hers.

"It is a good pain,” he replied with a voice that was deep and gruff.

“You promise?” she asked, biting her lip.

He nodded. Somberly. “A very good pain. Desist,” he commanded as she

continued to nibble at the flesh of her mouth. “It’s my lip to bite.”

She smiled faintly at him and as their eyes met, his hips rocked. Tension

ripped through her again. Her neck arched and her back tautened as she

reacted to the move. Pain fluttered over her face like a death mask and he

grunted at the sight. She stifled a shriek as he grabbed her shoulders to him

and spun them around so that he now lay on the floor and Lily atop him.

Her body readjusted to this new position and her eyes widened at the bare

torso that she was looking at. With wondering fingers, she traced her hands

along the curved muscles and the hardened flesh. She had never seen a

torso like it. It was . . . quite, quite beautiful. Almost as though it had been

carved by Michelangelo! As she traced her fingers along the muscled flesh,

she sat up and this movement had her closing her eyes for a moment. It

seemed . . . his hardness, well, it seemed almost deeper inside her!

How she wished she were free to ask him questions! If she were married to

him, then she would do naught but quench her curiosity. But she wasn't his

wife and the thought flashed pain once more along her features.

His hands came up to cup her breasts and they pinched at the taut tips. She

laughed and wriggled her hips at the sensation that flooded through her, but

then he ceased and dropped his hands to her hips. "Ride me like you would

your horse,” he commanded.

She jolted at the suggestion but did as he bade, as his hands instructed. Her

own fingers spread out against the breadth of his chest as she began to ride

him as he had suggested. Lily bit her lip. As she did so, a frown creased her

brow as the sensations that tore through her threatened to rip her asunder.

Shallow breaths escaped her mouth as she felt him rub tortuously against

every part of her insides and then, she cried out. For his hand had returned

to its earlier playing ground and that hillock, that strange little hillock, was

once more being caressed. Almost as though that fed her body, she began

to move faster. Faster and faster until her flesh glistened in the firelight from

the sweat that her exertion bore, until her breathing was labored and her

face stiffened as she sought that earlier tension that had been the harbinger

of such pleasure the likes of which she had never even known existed.

When it came, she cried out. Her own cries in tune with his as he grunted

and groaned, as they shared that blasting bolt of power that sizzled through

her body as though it were a lightning bolt. Their bodies tense and taut as

they strained against the other, she clung to him and he to her and then she

sank. Down and down until she collapsed against his chest and rested.

Moments later, his body relaxed and she sank deeper into him. His breathing

grew smoother, more regulated, and more even as he drifted into sleep.

But he still managed to tear her pride asunder.

"Camille."

That was his last word before he completely succumbed to slumber.

****

The latter had her panicking, but her body was far too languorous to move

swiftly. As she wriggled her hips a little, she realized that they were no

longer joined and felt grief at the thought, for she had enjoyed their

'joining’, far more than was right or decent and more than she had ever

imagined possible.

Slowly, she lifted herself away from him and managed to roll from his body

without overly disturbing him. He rolled on to his side and faced the now-

dying fire and as he did, she realized that was the source of her cold. The