Succumb to Me (13 page)

He moved his torturous hand to cup her
backside and draw her that much closer to him. Her thighs spread
impossibly far around him, until she could feel the hot hardness of
his manhood teasing her slit. The moment that alien hardness parted
her sex, she jolted in unbidden pleasure.

Her mouth parted but no sound could escape.
He took the opportunity to close the distance and his mouth crushed
against hers.

Savagely, his kissed her. Hungry, voracious
and exciting. His tongue probed her mouth, raping her tongue and
tasting every dark, hidden corner. He sparred with her tongue,
drawing her into battle whether she wished it or not. She nipped at
his tongue and he returned the bite with more force than she’d
evoked.

The threat of pain and pleasure was like a
heady aphrodisiac. She felt drunk and light-headed, dizzy with
passion.

Whimpers escaped her throat like hurt little
cries. He ignored her implorations, ravaging her mouth until she
was gasping and weak and clinging to him.

He tore from her mouth to nibble her lips and
chin, the line of her jaw. He met the corner of her jaw and moved
to her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and nipping the shell
of her ear. “I confess I want to bite and lick every inch of you,”
he whispered hotly into her ear.

She shuddered, digging her nails into his
arms as his member slipped enticingly in her folds, parting her
with unerring accuracy.

“I want you to ride my cock hard and not stop
until we are both panting in ecstasy. You make me lose my mind when
you whimper like that. When you resist my touch,” he murmured, then
rubbed his lips over her ear.

“Please, let me go. I cannot take this. Not
now. I beg you,” she said, nearly crying with unfulfilled longing.
She was terrified to give in to him, terrified of what would
happen. As much as her body wanted him, she could not surrender
without some fight.

He sighed hotly against her ear. “So be
it.”

It took an effort for him to release her. He
removed himself from the tub and got out, stepping onto the linen
on the floor and grabbing another to dry himself off. Winter stood
up from the tub, accepting the linens to dry herself off. She could
not avert her gaze from the erection jutting out from the black
thatch of hair on his groin. Just seeing how large and hard it was
made a shiver course down her spine.

“Do you like what you see?” he asked, rubbing
his groin with the linen, watching her blush under his
scrutiny.

“I do not.”

“You lie. Since you will not allow me to
pleasure you, why don’t you come and pleasure me. Perhaps it will
stave off the taking of your virginity for a while longer.”

She swallowed, wrapping her hair into the
linen to soak up the excess water in her hair. She regarded him
suspiciously. “What would you have me do?”

“Come, I will sit by the fire so your hair
can dry.” He moved a chair to the fire and sat down in it, naked.
He spread his legs and grabbed his shaft, stroking the length and
watching her approach.

Winter’s legs felt weak, unable to support
her.

“Get down on your knees, here. Take your hair
down.”

Reluctantly, she obeyed him, settling between
his legs.

He reached forward and cupped the back of her
neck. “Take me in your mouth.”

She gasped, stiffening as he pulled her
inexorably closer. She planted her hands on his knees, feeling
herself sinking between his thighs. A bead of moisture formed on
the tip of his cock from a single small hole in the center of the
huge, mushroomed head.

“Winter,” he warned. “Swallow my cock,” he
demanded hoarsely.

She swallowed and opened her mouth. He pulled
her head down, forcing himself inside her mouth. His hips jerked
when she closed her lips around him.

“Suck it. Suck me like a confection, Winter.
I am at your mercy now,” he said.

For some reason, the husky way he said it
made an answering call within her center. She felt the cream of her
body gather in her slit, moistening her and increasing the ache of
her womb.

Experimentally, unsure of what she was doing,
she formed suction on the bulbous head of his purpled shaft.

He groaned and jerked against her. “Wrap your
hand around me here. Stroke the shaft as you suck. Do it. Now.”

Moving to obey him, she wrapped her hand
around his girth, rubbing him as she’d seen him do at her approach.
She suckled him, felt his hand tighten in her hair. He moved her
head up and down on him, forcing her to take him deeper into her
mouth. She gagged on him, but he did not seem to mind. If anything,
it only encouraged him to move faster, jerkier.

Both of his huge hands now held her head. He
lifted his hips, pumping into her mouth with abandon. She tongued
the head, groaning in excitement as he forced himself deeper into
her mouth. Some ravenous need excited her to have him at her mercy,
needing her mouth on his sex.

An impish hunger built within her to hear his
excited groaning, to feel the tension in his hard thighs beneath
her palms. His hands bunched in her hair, tightening as he thrust
in her mouth with strong, shallow strokes.

He tasted like nothing she’d ever experienced
before. Beyond the scent of clean perfumes, she could smell him.
Male and intense, addictively exciting and wild. He groaned, long
and loud and deep. His shaft bucked in her mouth, erupting with a
salty sweet fluid that coated the inside of her mouth and shot into
the back of her throat.

She realized at once he’d found his release.
And she’d been responsible for it.

His member went flaccid inside her mouth, and
he released her head, pulling himself from between her lips.

Winter sat back on her haunches, feeling the
warmth of the fire dry her hair and skin. By the look of him, he’d
reached a place she’d never experienced before. She almost wished
she’d given in and allowed him his wicked way with her, just so she
would know what was shared between men and women.

And thinking like that was dangerous
indeed.

His ragged breathing slowly returned to
normal. He watched her by the fire, drying her hair as she pulled
her fingers through the tangles.

“For a novice, you have a way with your
mouth. I knew that sharp tongue was good for other things than
laying my hide open.”

She smiled in spite of herself, oddly
pleased.

“You need to dress. We’ve been playing these
games for far too long this afternoon. I would hate for your mother
to discover what you’ve been about.”

The reminder set off an alarm within her. It
would break her mother’s heart to know how far her daughter had
fallen from grace. “You are right,” she admitted.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Winter was allowed no respite from Logan’s
sensual onslaught. She began to realize his ultimate goal was to
divest her of her virginity. Was she willing to pay the price of
her reputation with her virtue, for some misguided sense of
injustice on his part?

She did not believe her sins were so great to
warrant his behavior, but she had no one and nowhere to turn for a
savior. Truth be told, as much as she disliked submitting to his
will, it was not a hardship.

Lord Remington was a man of powerful
appetites and immense appeal. He conjured within her a desire she
scarcely recognized. There was something freeing about being forced
to obey his perversions. It alleviated the sense of guilt that
plagued her, leaving her with an illusion of innocence.

Still, knowing that she enjoyed being forced
to his sensual delights disturbed her and provoked questions about
her morals and sanity. It was not normal for a well-bred woman to
want to be forcibly seduced.

And she should not have enjoyed giving
pleasure to his manhood with her mouth.

But she did.

When his ‘invitation’ arrived to attend
a performance of Shakespeare’s
Romeo and
Juliet
at the theater, she knew she must go. With
minimal fuss and a wealth of doubt, Winter accepted his invitation.
Not that she could deny him. The threat of the nude’s exposure hung
over her like a pall.

It was a great risk attending a public play
with him, but he assured her they would be well concealed at his
private box, and she would remain cloaked until safely inside. The
presence of a mysterious lady-friend would raise brows and
speculation, but she could do nothing else.

The night of the performance, Winter left on
the pretense of going with Sarah and her mother as escort. It was
strange how lies built themselves up, one atop the other, until one
could scarce breathe from the smothering guilt. She was losing
herself, becoming more and more confused at the tangles she’d
created.

Her heart ached at the trust her mother
bestowed on her. Almost, she
wanted
to be caught, just so the deception would be stopped ... but
not nearly enough to come forth.

She comforted herself with the thought that
the time promised Logan was nearing the end, and it would soon be
over. Her mother need never know of her deceptions. Her mother need
never suffer the shame of her only daughter’s disgrace.

Winter dressed for the night in a
crushed velvet gown and wore the offensive necklace he’d gifted her
with. The gown had a matching hooded cloak that she would wear to
disguise herself until no longer visible to the other theater
patrons. The crystalline blue made her appear cold and aloof. She
looked very much the ice princess Giovanni had painted—exactly as
she wished Logan to see her. She wanted none of his advances this
night ... or any night thereafter. He needed to know that she hated
him for using her as he did, even though it
seemed
harmless.

Winter banished the thought that
secretly, she
wanted
him to
touch her ... banished thoughts of that sinful mouth sucking her
fingers ... and imagining him sucking other things.

The images were powerful enough that her
nipples hardened in response, the peaks of her breasts tightening
against the dress until they looked like buttons beneath her
gown.

With that in mind, she looked about the
room for a piece of lace to cover her bosom ... and to take her
mind off her disgraceful thoughts. She’d outgrown the gown in the
bust somewhat over the years, and her breasts threatened to spill
out the top in abundance. She hadn’t thought she’d changed
that
much ... another embarrassment
she could add to a growing list. In a trunk at the foot of her bed,
she finally found what she sought. Taking the length of the lace,
she tucked it around her shoulders and into the front
neckline.

Satisfied her modesty was safe, she left in
the awaiting carriage after bidding her mother good-bye and
throwing the cloak over her shoulders and head.

Arriving at his townhouse after a lengthy
ride, she was ushered inside and into the parlor where he awaited.
She very pointedly did not look at the window through which she’d
crawled, hoping he would not mention that night of horrid mistakes
and humiliation.

“Good evening, Miss Stevens,” he said, his
voice deep and husky, making the simple greeting a caress on her
senses.

“Good evening, my lord,” she said, taking in
every wicked nuance of him.

Lounging in a wing-back, he held a brandy
glass in one hand as he watched her with an intensity that unnerved
her as much as it captivated and held her in thrall. His inky hair
was brushed back and tamed with a ribbon, barely diminishing his
roguish looks. He was dressed in dark gray breeches that molded to
his legs, with a matching silk waistcoat, and a black coat
stretched smooth over his wide shoulders.

A substantial bulge in front of his pants
drew her attention, and realizing she stared at his sex, she
quickly looked away up at his face, feeling her cheeks pinked with
heat. He already knew she found him attractive, she didn’t need to
encourage him in his thinking. But every time she thought she would
remain aloof, he did something to draw out her emotions.

He smiled, appreciating her blush, the fact
that he’d put it there with no effort on his part. Hungrily, he
looked at the lace covering her breasts from his sight. A wash of
anger flashed over his face, darkening his eyes, and he stood and
strode to her with purpose. Snatching the lace from her shoulders,
he balled it up and threw it into the banked fire before she could
react.

Winter gasped and covered her chest
with one arm, the other free to hit him. “How
dare
you?” The loss of the lace stung, but not so
much as his actions.

His eyes glittered dangerously. “Never hide
yourself from me, madam.”

“I should slap your face for your
impertinence,” she gritted out, though her anger slowly dissipated
at his look.

His jaw hardened, a muscle working along its
base. “Do it. But I warn you, I will retaliate.”